Through the Fire 2

The fundraiser was a resounding success, and as the night wore on, Shivaay found himself watching Anika more than he intended. She was magnetic, her laughter ringing out as she charmed her way through conversations. He hated to admit it, but her presence stirred something in him—a challenge, a spark he hadn’t felt in years.

Meanwhile, Anika was hyper-aware of Shivaay’s piercing gaze. It unnerved her how much space he occupied in her thoughts. But she wouldn’t let herself be distracted—not by his smoldering intensity, not by the way he looked at her as if she were the only person in the room.

As the event wound down, Anika finally confronted him. “Enjoying yourself, Mr. Oberoi? Or are you here to evaluate the competition?”

Shivaay smirked, leaning casually against a nearby pillar. “Maybe I’m here to keep an eye on you, Ms. Anika. You have a way of causing trouble wherever you go.”

“Trouble?” she shot back, crossing her arms. “I think you mean progress.”

“Call it what you like,” he said, stepping closer. “You always seem to have a knack for making things... interesting.”

Her breath hitched at the sudden proximity. He was too close, his cologne a mix of cedar and something distinctly Shivaay. “Don’t think for a second that flattery will work on me,” she retorted, though her voice was weaker than she intended.

His lips curved into a sly smile. “Who said I was flattering you?”

Their moment was interrupted when one of the vendors called Anika’s name, pulling her back to reality. She turned on her heel, escaping before Shivaay could see the flush creeping up her neck.

---

The weeks that followed were a strange dance of tension and familiarity. They began crossing paths more often—at meetings, community events, and even by chance at the coffee shop near her apartment.

Each encounter was a battle of wills. They argued over everything, from city planning to the merits of strong coffee. Yet, underneath their heated exchanges, there was a growing connection, a thread pulling them closer.

One evening, Anika found herself stuck outside her apartment in the pouring rain, her keys mysteriously missing. As if on cue, a sleek black car pulled up, and the window rolled down to reveal Shivaay.

“You look like you could use a ride,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

“I’ll manage,” she replied stubbornly, shivering as the rain drenched her.

“Anika,” he said, exasperated. “Get in the car before you catch a cold.”

She hesitated, weighing her pride against the very real threat of pneumonia. Finally, she huffed and climbed into the passenger seat.

The car was warm, and the faint smell of leather mingled with Shivaay’s cologne. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ignore the way his presence filled the small space.

“You could say thank you,” he said as he started driving.

“I could,” she replied, glancing at him. “But I won’t.”

He laughed, a low, rich sound that caught her off guard. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re insufferable,” she shot back, though there was no real venom in her words.

They drove in silence for a while, the rain pattering against the windows. Finally, Shivaay spoke. “Why do you do it, Anika? Fight so hard for people who can’t fight for themselves?”

She turned to look at him, surprised by the question. “Because someone has to. People like you... you have the power to change lives. But most of the time, you only look out for yourselves. Someone has to stand up for the rest.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected. He had always seen the world in black and white, measured by profit and loss. But Anika made him question everything.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “Maybe I haven’t done enough.”

She blinked, startled by his sincerity. For the first time, she saw not Shivaay Singh Oberoi, the ruthless businessman, but Shivaay, the man beneath the facade.

---

From that night on, something shifted between them. Their arguments grew less venomous, their encounters laced with an undercurrent of something unspoken. The fire was still there, but it burned differently—warmer, steadier.

One evening, after another heated debate about a new project, Shivaay found himself cornering Anika in the empty conference room.

“Why do you always fight me?” he demanded, his voice low.

“Because you make it so easy,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with defiance.

He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Do you hate me that much?”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. “I don’t hate you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you drive me crazy.”

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a blend of frustration and something else entirely. “Because you’ve been driving me crazy since the day I met you.”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was as fierce and passionate as their arguments.

Anika froze, caught off guard by the intensity of it. But then her hands found their way to his shoulders, and she kissed him back with equal fervor, pouring all her frustration, anger, and unspoken feelings into that single moment.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their faces inches apart.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” she said, her voice shaky.

“Good,” he replied, smirking. “Because I’m not sure I like you either.”

But the glint in his eyes said otherwise, and as Anika walked away, her heart racing, she knew their story was far from over.

........