I hated these events.
The polished smiles, the clinking of glasses -it was all a dance I knew too well. My presence here wasn't optional, though. Business was built on appearances, and appearances were built on nights like this.
I stood near the bar, nursing a whiskey that was more for show than anything else. My eyes scanned the room, catching the subtle power plays unfolding in every corner. Handshakes that lasted a second too long, conversations laced with hidden motives, laughter that never quite reached the eyes.
And then, she walked in.
Avni Rajput.
I noticed her before most of the room did-though judging by the way heads turned as she stepped through the door, I wasn't the only one. There was something about the way she carried herself, an aura of control that demanded attention without asking for it.
I watched as she moved through the crowd, exchanging smiles and polite words, though her eyes told a different story. She wasn't here to charm or flatter-she was here to remind everyone who she was.
Impressive.
Most people in this room tried to blend in while pretending they were above it all. Avni didn't pretend. She stood out unapologetically. As she went to bar , we had a small talk.
For a moment, our gazes met. It wasn't planned-she didn't even look surprised. But the connection was electric, sharp. She didn't smile, and neither did I. The corners of my mouth twitched faintly, but that was it.
I took another sip of my drink, leaning against the bar as the evening unfolded around me. But my attention was drawn back when a scene broke out near the corner of the ballroom.
I saw her walking toward the scene before I fully understood what was happening. Her stride was purposeful, her eyes cold. My curiosity piqued, and I shifted to get a better view.
There was a man-a drunk man gripping wrist of young woman who looked uncomfortable. She was trying to pull away, but he wouldn't let go. Avni was on him in an instant.
Even from a distance, I could see the sharpness in her expression. Her words didn't carry to where I stood, but her posture said enough. She was commanding.
She warned man to let woman go but man denied speaking back and then....
And then she slapped him.
The sound cracked through the air, silencing the room. Conversations stopped mid-sentence, glasses paused mid-air, and every pair of eyes turned toward the scene. The man staggered back, clutching his cheek, his face a mix of shock and humiliation. I leaned against the bar, watching the way she handled herself.
It was fascinating.
The man scurried off, his ego in tatters, and Avni turned her attention to the woman he'd been harassing. Her tone softened, but her authority remained. She guided the woman to safety.
The room buzzed with whispers as she walked back, but she didn't flinch under the weight of their stares. She owned the moment, as if daring anyone to challenge her.
And then her gaze found mine again. This time, I didn't look away. I raised my glass slightly, a silent acknowledgment of what I'd just witnessed. Her expression didn't change, but there was something in her eyes-a spark, a flicker of defiance-that lingered before she turned and disappeared back into the crowd.
I let out a low breath, finishing the whiskey in my glass. Avni Rajput. I'd heard the stories, seen the headlines, but none of it had prepared me for this. She wasn't just another name in the industry. She was a storm, unapologetic and confident.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt something I hadn't expected : intrigue.
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