Elevator

Luxurious Restaurant — Entrance

Veer stood outside, exuding charm in a tailored black suit, sunglasses perfectly framing his sharp features. He glanced at his watch, tapping his polished shoe impatiently. Then he saw her — Ridhima stepping out of a car, her baby pink saree draping elegantly around her.

His thoughts spiraled. Why does she have to look this captivating?

Ridhima walked up to him, her gaze sharp.

"Why are you waiting outside?" Ridhima asked.

"Oh, I just got here," Veer lied casually.

In reality, he'd been there for 15 minutes, but he wasn't about to admit it.

They walked toward the elevator for the fifth floor. Veer extended his hand, gesturing for her to enter first.

"You don't seem like a gentleman," Ridhima remarked.

"Sweetheart, you don't know me yet," Veer grinned.

"Don't call me sweetheart. It's irritating," she warned sternly.

"But I love calling you that," Veer teased with a smirk.

The elevator doors slid open, and three men stepped in after them. Veer's expression shifted as he instinctively grabbed Ridhima's hand, pulling her closer to his side to shield her.

Ridhima's heart raced, feeling his warm, firm body just inches from hers. For a moment, she was caught off guard by his protective gesture.

Veer glanced down at her, noticing the flicker of surprise in her eyes.

"Please don't fall in love with me," Veer whispered.

Ridhima blinked, regaining her composure.

"In your dreams, Mr. Arora," she shot back coolly.

Their eyes locked, tension crackling between them until the elevator dinged at the fifth floor. Neither broke eye contact until the doors slid open.

Luxurious Restaurant — Brunch Table

Veer pulled out a chair for Ridhima, who hesitated slightly before sitting down. Veer smoothly took his seat across from her, his intense gaze fixed on her.

"So," Veer started, folding his hands on the table, "why exactly do you have an issue with me?"

Ridhima paused, meeting his gaze with a sharp look.

"I just don't like you," she said bluntly. "The way you are... you irritate me. It's too annoying, and dealing with you takes too much energy. In a professional field, it's better to be enemies rather than partners."

Veer stayed silent for a moment, processing her candid words.

"Okay," he said with a nod. "But here's the thing—we have to take this role for the next four months."

"What do you mean?" Ridhima asked, her brows furrowing.

"We don't get married until the project is complete," Veer clarified. "We tell everyone we need time to understand each other. Once the project is done, I'll call off the marriage."

Ridhima cut him off. "We'll call off the marriage. You don't need to stand for me—I can handle it."

Veer leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly. "Okay. But for the next four months, we need to look like a couple. Understand?"

Ridhima sighed. "Fine."

Veer leaned forward again, his eyes playful. "And one more thing—I'm going to call you sweetheart."

Ridhima's eyes narrowed. "No. That's not happening."

Veer grinned. "Then how will it look real?"

Ridhima took a long pause, weighing his words. "Fine."

A victorious smile spread across Veer's face.

Their tense conversation softened as they continued their brunch, a quiet understanding settling between them despite their fiery dynamic.

Ridhima turned toward the elevator, ready to leave. Veer's voice cut through the air.

"Stop," he said firmly.

Ridhima frowned, turning slightly. "What now?"

He stepped closer, his voice low and controlled. "Don't move—your blouse lace is open."

Her eyes widened. "What?" she whispered in surprise. She instinctively took a step back, only for her back to press firmly against Veer's chest. The proximity sent an unexpected jolt through her.

"Relax," he muttered softly. "I'll fix it."

Ridhima stood frozen, heat rising to her face as Veer's fingers gently worked to tie the delicate lace. His touch lingered, warm and firm, sending shivers down her spine.

Her voice was barely audible. "You didn't have to..."

"It would've been worse if someone else noticed," he said, a teasing edge to his voice.

When he finished, Veer stepped back slightly. "There. Perfect."

Ridhima turned around, straightening her saree with forced composure. "Thanks... I guess."

He smirked. "Anytime, sweetheart."

Her brows furrowed. "I told you not to call me that."

"Couldn't help myself," he shrugged playfully. "It suits you."

They stepped into the elevator, the tension thick in the confined space.

Ridhima broke the silence with mock seriousness. "You're really annoying, you know that?"

Veer tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "And you're really good at pretending you don't like it."

Their eyes locked for a long moment, the charged atmosphere lingering until the elevator doors slid open.

Without another word, they walked out, parting ways—each acutely aware that something between them had shifted.

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