9. DESIGN DOOR

VYOM RAJPUT'S POV

I step into the Design Door studio, the hum of creativity and innovation enveloping me. As the main spotlight of the company, I thrive under the pressure.

The studio's sleek, modern aesthetic reflects our commitment to pushing the boundaries of fashion. Rows of workstations line the room, each one a hub of activity as our team of designers and assistants work tirelessly to bring our visions to life.

I make my way to my own workstation, a sprawling corner of the studio filled with sketches, fabrics, and half-finished garments. My assistant, Kiara, greets me with a warm smile.

"Morning, Vyom! Big day today. The investors are arriving soon."

I nod, my mind already racing with the presentation. "Let's get everything perfect. I want to blow them away."

Kiara nods, and together we begin finalizing the details. Our collection, "Eclipse," is a masterpiece – a fusion of dark, edgy silhouettes and elegant, sophisticated details.

As we work, the studio buzzes with energy. Designers and assistants hurry to and fro, all working towards the same goal: to showcase the best of Design Door.

Vaibhav Malhotra, our CEO, appears at my side, a look of pride on his face. "Vyom, you've outdone yourself. This collection is stunning."

I smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction. "Thanks, Vaibhav. We've all worked incredibly hard."

Just then, the door opens, and Vikram walks in, his presence commanding attention. He's dressed impeccably, his suit tailored to perfection.

"Ah, Vikram! Welcome," Vaibhav says, extending his hand.

Vikram's gaze sweeps the room, his eyes lingering on me before nodding at Vaibhav. "Vaibhav. Vyom."

I feel a shiver run down my spine as our eyes meet. What is he doing here?

"Meet him, Vyom. Vikram singh Rajvansh is going to be our new investor," Vaibhav explains, as if sensing my confusion. "He's here to review our collection."

My heart sinks. This changes everything.

Vaibhav smiles, seemingly oblivious to the tension between Vikram and me. "I'll leave you two to discuss the details. Vikram, I'm sure you'll find our collection to your liking."

As Vaibhav turns to leave, he leans in close to me, his voice barely audible. "Seal the deal, Vyom. No matter what. Our company needs this investor so bad."

His words send a shiver down my spine. What does he mean? Do I have to entertain him?

Vaibhav 's eyes flicker to Vikram, a hint of a warning in his gaze. Then, he's gone, leaving us alone in the studio.

The air seems to thicken, the silence between Vikram and me palpable. Vikram's eyes never leave mine, his gaze burning with an inner intensity.

He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Remove your clothes, Vyom."

I'm taken aback, shock coursing through my veins. "What? No! Have you gone crazy?"

Vikram's smile grows, his eyes never leaving mine. He walks over to the sofa and sits down, his movements fluid and deliberate.

"I want to see the collection on you," he says, his voice low and husky. "Then I'll decide whether to invest or not."

I feel a surge of indignation. "You can't be serious. This is a professional setting, Vikram."

Vikram's expression remains unreadable. "I'm very serious, Vyom. I want to see how the clothes look on you. Now."

His words hang in the air, a challenge, a provocation. I'm torn between outrage and curiosity.

I try to compose myself, attempting to treat this as a normal design presentation. I walk over to the rack, pulling out the first garment.

"Let's start with this one," I say, trying to sound professional. "It's a bespoke suit, tailored to perfection."

I help myself into the suit, adjusting the fit to accentuate my straight shoulders and chiseled physique. But as i wait for vikram's approval, his expression remains unimpressed.

"It's...nice," he says, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

I frown, taken aback. This suit is one of my best designs.

I try again, pulling out a sleek black turtleneck and matching trousers. Vikram's expression doesn't change, even as I highlight the intricate stitching and luxurious fabric.

Next, I present a bold, patterned shirt, paired with slim-fit jeans. Vikram's eyes scan the outfit, his face a mask of indifference.

I begin to feel frustrated, my confidence waning. What's wrong with him? Can't he see the beauty in these designs?

As I pull out the final garment, a stunning, hand-beaded dinner jacket, Vikram's expression remains unyielding.

"This is it," I say, trying to sound convincing. "This is the pièce de résistance of our collection."

Vikram's gaze sweeps over the jacket, his eyes lingering on the intricate beading. For a moment, I think I see a flicker of interest.

But it's quickly extinguished, replaced by his usual, impassive mask.

"It's...nice," he repeats, his tone dripping with boredom.

I feel a surge of anger, my frustration boiling over.

"What do you want, Vikram?" I demand, my voice rising. "You're not giving me any feedback. What's going on?"

Vikram's expression changes, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I'm waiting for something more," he says, his voice low and husky. "Something that will truly impress me."

"I have something like that."

None dates to mess with vyom rajput when it comes to fashion.

I slips on the white coat, the fabric draping elegantly over my broad shoulders. But it's the back of the coat that leaves me breathless - the intricate beading creates a dazzling display of sparkle and shine, accentuating my chiseled physique.

If this can't get you, vikram. Then I am going to kick your ass out of my office.

(Yes, your majesty)

"I am ready."

My heart starts to beat faster as he turns to face me, i back faces him, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of my bare skin. I feel my heart skip a beat, my pulse racing with excitement.

But as I look into Vikram's eyes, I see a glint of challenge, of provocation. He's pushing me, testing my boundaries.

He looking at me like a wolf ready to conquer his boundaries, his feast.

I'm not sure if I should be outraged or intrigued.

"Vikram, what are you looking at me with those eyes?" I ask, trying to sound calm.

He smiles, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm appreciating your design, Vyom. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Fuckkk, he is actually an asshole. Always getting on my right nerve.

I hesitate, unsure of how to respond. This is not what I had in mind.

But as I look at Vikram, I see the way the his white shirt hugs his body, his rolled up sleeves revealing his thick muscle, the way the his tanned skin catches the light. It's...breathtaking.

And Vikram knows it. He's using his body, his charisma, to manipulate me.

But I'm not sure if I mind.

I mean, is it too wrong to like a criminal.

Shit, what am I thinking?

His arms tho.

As I was drooling shamelessly over his body, he snaps his finger on my face.

Vikram's eyes gleam with excitement as he says, "Let's go."

I frown, confusion etched on my face. "Where?"

Vikram's smile grows, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "The party, of course. The crowning of the new mafia lord."

My eyes widen in alarm. "You can't be serious. I'm not going to a mafia party."

Vikram's expression turns persuasive. "Come on, Vyom. It'll be fun. And I need a date."

Did he just said fun!?

Like seriously funn.

I raise an eyebrow. "A date? You want me to be your date?"

Vikram nods, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yes, I do. You'll be perfect. Beautiful, charming, and...intimidating."

I laugh, incredulous. "Intimidating? You think I'm intimidating?"

Vikram's smile grows, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Oh, Vyom. You have no idea the effect you have on people. Especially me."

"Will you not be ashamed to take me as your date? Afterall I am a man."

"Why will I be ashamed, afterall you are my man."

I feel a shiver run down my spine as Vikram's eyes lock onto mine. There's something in his gaze, something that makes me feel like I'm drowning.

.

.

.

~to be continued