Chapter 1 Ignorance

Chapter One: The Untouchable Player

Few Days EarlierVenue: St. Stephen’s College, LondonOccasion: Videshi Celebration, Desi Style

The bass from the speakers thrummed through the floorboards, vibrating in the chests of everyone present. The lyrics of Party on My Mind blasted through the hall, fueled by the frantic energy of college students finally letting loose.

"Hi, handsome!" A striking blonde squeezed Arnav’s shoulder, leaning in to brush an air-kiss against his cheek.

Arnav didn’t hesitate. He wrapped a casual arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his hard chest until she was nearly spilling out of her dress. He trailed a slow, deliberate finger along the seam of her red-pouted lips, his voice dropping to a husky, seductive murmur. "Hey, gorgeous."

His eyes held the smolder of a man who knew exactly what he wanted—and exactly how to get it.

Arnav Singh Raizada was the undisputed king of the campus. Standing well over six feet, he moved with a predatory grace that turned heads the moment he entered a room. He had the kind of eyes women wrote poetry about, and a single dimple on his right cheek that made his otherwise sharp, arrogant face look dangerously kissable. He was the ultimate charmer; there wasn't a girl in the college who hadn't dreamed of being his—except for one.

Khushi Kumari Gupta.

She was the only challenge he hadn't won. Tonight, he planned to change that. He wanted to see her composure break. He wanted to see her beg for the very touch she pretended to despise.

He sipped his mocktail, his eyes scanning the crowd over the rim of the glass. He felt the blonde girl wiggling in his arms, desperate for more of his attention, but his mind was elsewhere. Why did he care so much about the one girl who treated him like roadside trash? Was it because she was the only one who remained forbidden?

He smiled forcefully at the blonde’s shrill laughter, his thoughts drifting. Despite his reputation, Arnav held a secret close to his vest. He was a "player" in every sense—the touches, the flirting, the kisses—but he had never taken a woman to his bed. He was waiting for something "special," a romantic streak he buried deep under layers of cynicism.

Suddenly, the air in the room seemed to shift.

Even over the thumping bass and the roar of the crowd, Arnav’s pulse spiked. A light breeze—impossible in a crowded London hall—seemed to carry the faint, rhythmic chime of anklets.

Khushi.

His senses always alerted him to her presence before he even saw her. He stopped his glass midway to his lips. He didn't want to look, but his body betrayed him. He turned his head, and there she was.

She wasn't wearing a cocktail dress or sequins. She was clad in a vibrant red Anarkali suit, the modest silk flowing around her as she moved. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a silver chain with a single ruby drop. She looked like an angel who had accidentally wandered into a den of sin.

Red? She’s wearing red? Arnav cursed internally. You’re a dead man, Raizada.

"Stop it, Khushi," she whispered to herself, clutching her pallu tightly. She could feel his gaze—that heavy, seductive heat—undoing her resolve. She had promised herself she wouldn't let him see the madness he stirred in her. She didn't want her heart crushed by a man who treated love like a sport.

"You're thinking out loud, dear," Lavanya muttered through a fixed, fake smile as they navigated the crowd.

"Lavanya, I'm hopeless," Khushi sighed, finally letting go of her grip on her silk scarf. "I can't escape him."

Arnav set his glass down and released the blonde from his side. He began to walk toward them, his presence looming larger with every step.

"Lav, he’s coming here!" Khushi panicked, her breath hitching. "What if he... what if he..."

"Relax, Khushi. He isn't going to kiss you in the middle of a party. Arnav doesn't touch people who don't want to be touched."

"I'm not afraid of that, duffer! What if he asks me to dance?"

Lavanya rolled her eyes. "Why would he do that? He doesn't even talk to you. Unless... do you want to dance with him?"

"No! If I do, I'll probably blurt out that I've loved him since freshman year."

Arnav reached them, his shadow falling over both of them. He licked his lips, watching Khushi’s eyes widen. He loved the way she became conscious of him, the way her breath hitched.

He slid his hand between the two women, a smirk playing on his lips. "May I have the pleasure of a dance with..." He paused, watching Khushi go pale with anticipation, then shifted his gaze to Lavanya. "...this super good-looking lady?"

Khushi let out a ragged puff of air, her heart sinking even as she felt relieved.

"Don't hit on me, Arnav," Lavanya warned.

"Someone's presence is making you cranky, little sis," Arnav laughed, pulling Lavanya toward the dance floor with brotherly affection. "I haven't forgotten we’re cousins."

As he led Lavanya away, he threw one last, sharp glance over his shoulder at Khushi. "Get yourself a partner, Miss Chasmish. Otherwise, you’ll be standing alone all night."

He walked away, enjoying the look of pure, frustrated fluster on Khushi’s face. He had won this round, but the night was far from over.