Chapter # 3: The First Glimpse
The soft golden lights of the grand hall flickered against the crystal chandeliers, but Rayyan Zayd wasn't interested in the décor. His sharp black eyes rested only on the entrance.
She was late.
The party was his success—a celebration of the closed deal—but his heartbeat thudded for a reason far more personal. Tonight, Noor Khanzada was stepping into his world for the first time.
His hand tightened around the glass of sparkling water. The usual crowd surrounded him—business tycoons, influencers, board members—but their conversations blurred. Only one thought stayed clear: How will she look? How will she feel surrounded by people so different from her simple life?
Then… she entered.
Rayyan's chest stilled. The air shifted.
She wasn't overdressed, but she didn't need to be. Her modest style somehow owned the room—an elegance far more striking than designer gowns. A simple long dress in soft beige, paired with a matching hijab, her soft brown eyes scanning the crowd with quiet curiosity and maybe, just maybe, a hint of nervousness.
Rayyan swallowed, feeling the odd pull again—the strange mix of protectiveness and something more possessive, something raw.
Omer leaned in, joking about some investor, but Rayyan barely heard. His gaze stayed locked on her, watching her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear even though it was covered, a small habit he'd noticed once.
Without thinking, he moved.
Crossing the hall in swift, confident strides, the crowd parted for him as it always did, but this time… this time, he cared only about the one standing quietly by herself, adjusting the strap of her clutch.
He stopped just in front of her, catching the slight hitch in her breath as she finally looked up—soft brown meeting intense black.
"Glad you made it," his voice dropped lower, almost rough.
Her lips curved slightly, a polite smile, but those eyes—there was hesitation, maybe awe, maybe uncertainty. He liked it too much.
Rayyan stepped closer, just enough for her to feel the difference in their worlds melt into something undefined. "I wasn't interested in this party… until now."
A faint flush crept up her cheeks. She looked away, fingers tightening on her clutch. Rayyan smirked slightly—victory wasn't always about deals; sometimes it was about stolen moments like these.
Tonight, he decided, wouldn't just be a party.
It would be the beginning of something far more complicated… and far more dangerous.
Rayyan didn't give her a chance to get lost in the crowd. His hand, firm but careful, rested on her lower back as he leaned closer. "Let's go somewhere quieter," he murmured.
She blinked, a bit startled but didn't protest. Her steps followed his as he led her through the sea of people, the world fading around them.
The garden patio was dimly lit, fairy lights tangled through the tall hedges, the soft hum of music reaching them from inside. She stepped out, inhaling the fresh air, her shoulders relaxing.
Rayyan turned, folding his arms, observing her quietly. She didn't realize how effortlessly she softened the hard lines of his life.
"Why so quiet?" his voice had that teasing edge but his eyes stayed sharp on her every expression.
"I'm… not used to this," Noor replied honestly, her voice calm but her fingers fidgeting slightly. "It's not my world."
Rayyan's jaw tightened. He hated the word not yours. He took a slow step forward. "Maybe it should be… or maybe," his head tilted slightly, voice lowering, "this world needs someone like you."
Her gaze shot up, those brown eyes unsure, hesitant, and Rayyan felt the familiar wave of frustration—frustration at the world that made her feel less… and his own growing obsession to make sure she never felt that again.
Before she could respond, the music shifted inside—slow, rhythmic, smooth.
Rayyan extended a hand. "Dance with me."
Her eyes widened a fraction, nervous, reluctant. "I've never—"
"I'll lead," he cut in gently, a rare softness in his tone.
Noor hesitated for a heartbeat before placing her hand in his. His larger, warmer hand engulfed hers, guiding her back inside toward the center of the floor.
People noticed, whispers stirred, but Rayyan didn't care. All he felt was her—small in his arms, her steps unsure at first, until his steady lead pulled her into rhythm.
Her lashes lowered, breathing uneven, while his grip stayed firm around her waist. His other hand secured hers, their fingers fitting in a way that felt unsettlingly natural.
"You're not nervous of the people," he said quietly, "you're nervous of me."
Her lips parted, caught off-guard. "Maybe…" she whispered.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips, voice dropping into something more raw, more possessive. "Good," he said simply, "you should be… I'm not planning on letting you go easily."
Her cheeks flushed deeper, and she instinctively tried to glance away but his hand on her waist pulled her back just slightly closer.
The music drowned the world, but the silence between them screamed louder.
And just like that… Rayyan Zayd knew this night wouldn't just haunt his memory—it would mark the start of a hunger he wasn't planning to control.
As the song ended, Rayyan's hand lingered around Noor's waist a moment longer than necessary. She was about to step back when a few people approached—some board members, some investors, and… one man Rayyan barely tolerated: Rahim Malik, a partner from a previous collaboration.
"Rayyan!" Rahim s loud voice cut through the air, his steps unsteady, clearly a few glasses deep. "Didn't expect to see you babysitting tonight."
Rayyan's jaw tensed instantly, his grip on Noor tightening instinctively.
Rahim's eyes—bold and unwelcome—swept over Noor, lingering far longer than acceptable. "So this is the new special guest," Rahim smirked, stepping closer. "Looks too soft for these circles… you sure she can handle—"
Rayyan's arm shifted, Noor was immediately pulled slightly behind him, his full height towering, voice dropping to a dangerous level. "Careful, Zayan."
Rahim laughed, dismissive, "Relax, brother, just admiring. You know these parties… things get friendly."
Rayyan's hand fisted at his side. Noor's hand gently touched his sleeve, whispering, "Let it go."
But Rayyan's vision was already tinted with red.
Rahim, either too arrogant or too drunk, took a step toward Noor, lowering his voice, "If you ever get bored—"
That was it.
Rayyan's fist collided with Rahim's jaw, sharp and brutal. The hall went silent, gasps rippling across the crowd. Rahim stumbled backward, crashing into a table, glass shattering around him.
Noor's eyes widened in shock as Rayyan advanced, his tone pure steel, "Speak to her again—look at her again—and you won't walk out of this room."
Security had already appeared, guests moving back as Rahim's friends tried to intervene but Rayyan's glare froze everyone in place.
Omer rushed over, placing a hand on Rayyan's shoulder. "Boss, enough."
Rayyan didn't flinch, his chest rising with every heavy breath. He turned, hand circling Noor's wrist gently. "We're leaving," his voice left no space for argument.
Guiding her out through the stunned crowd, Rayyan's grip only loosened once they reached his car. His heart was still thundering, anger barely contained, but as he glanced at her—worried, startled, fingers trembling slightly—his expression shifted.
He leaned in, quieter now, but intense as ever, "Next time, you don't stand behind me… you stand beside me."
Noor's lashes lowered, cheeks flushed, but she nodded, a quiet strength forming in her eyes.
Rayyan exhaled slowly, whispering more to himself than to her, "No one… no one messes with what's mine."
The doors shut with a quiet click, the world outside fading as Rayyan slid into the driver's seat. His jaw was still tight, knuckles a little bruised, but the silence in the car was… peaceful.
Rayyan glanced sideways.
Noor wasn't trembling. She wasn't crying. In fact—she was adjusting her bracelet, completely calm, her face composed like nothing dramatic had just happened.
A breath left him in disbelief. "You're… too calm," he muttered, starting the engine.
Noor's lips quirked into a half-smile, finally meeting his eyes with a quiet boldness. "Why should I be scared? You did the punching part, I just stood there," she shrugged lightly, voice casual but sharp enough to make Rayyan's lips twitch.
He pressed on the accelerator, a soft laugh escaping him for the first time that evening. "You're impossible."
Noor leaned back, arms crossed with a smug expression, "No… I'm just not a damsel in distress."
Rayyan shook his head, stealing glances at her between turns. "You know," he said after a pause, "most girls would've been crying after something like that… maybe even fainted."
Her smirk deepened. "Most girls don't have to deal with you," she teased softly.
Rayyan's chest eased, the heaviness from earlier lifting. Swag, that's what she was—soft on the outside but steel underneath. And it hit him again why she stood out in his world full of fakeness.
As the car sped through the night, Noor turned her head slightly toward the window, then back at him. "You didn't have to hit him… but you looked good doing it."
Rayyan's fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "I'd do it again," his voice was low, honest.
Noor just smiled. "I know."
For the rest of the ride, they didn't need to talk much. The quiet was comfortable… the kind that only came when two people just… fit.
Rayyan pulled the car up outside Noor's modest home. The street was quiet, the soft glow of streetlights reflecting in the car's windshield.
Noor unclipped her seatbelt, adjusting her clutch casually. "Thanks for the ride… and the entertainment," she added, a teasing smirk pulling at her lips.
Rayyan's jaw flexed, amused. "Anytime."
She opened the door but paused, glancing back. "And next time," her tone playful, "you let me land a punch too."
A laugh rumbled in Rayyan's chest—deep, real. "Noted," he nodded.
Noor stepped out, her heels clicking softly on the pavement. She didn't look back, walking with her usual swag, confident, light… leaving behind a storm in his chest.
Rayyan stayed parked outside her house longer than necessary, eyes fixed on the quiet door Noor had just entered. The street was silent, but his chest wasn't—it felt tight, unsettled.
And then… the memory returned.
A younger Noor. Hair in a simple ponytail, big brown eyes wide and teary. She wasn't confident back then… she was small, quiet, easy to overlook. But Rayyan had noticed her.
It was in the school courtyard… boys surrounding her, snatching her lunchbox, pushing her books to the ground. She'd tried to fight back—small fists, shaky defiance—but she'd been outnumbered.
Rayyan, two years older, taller, already known for his temper, had stepped in.
He could still hear the sharp crack of his fist hitting the ringleader's jaw, the other boys scattering like frightened mice. But what stayed with him most… was her.
The way she crouched by her fallen books, tears streaming down her cheeks, shoulders trembling.
And Rayyan—young, reckless, but with a strangely soft heart—had crouched beside her.
"Hey… it's okay," he'd said, unsure, awkwardly brushing dirt off her sleeve.
She had sniffled, looking up at him, cheeks wet.
His chest had squeezed even back then.
"You're safe now," he'd whispered.
Noor didn't remember him. Of course she didn't.
Years had passed, faces changed, but Rayyan could never forget that little girl with tearful eyes and trembling hands… who somehow grew into this confident, bold woman who walked away tonight with swagger in her step.
A slow smile spread across his lips.
From tears to strength, he thought, and I saw both sides of her.
Maybe that's why the pull toward her wasn't just attraction… it was something deeper. Protective. Personal.
Rayyan shifted the car into drive, glancing once more at the house.
She doesn't know I was there then… but I do.
And I'm sure as hell going to be there now.
Inside, Noor slipped off her heels, sinking onto the edge of her bed. Her heart had settled from the chaos of the party, but something lingered… something warm.
She stared out of her window, unknowingly facing the street where Rayyan's car had just driven off.
Strange…
She should've felt overwhelmed, maybe a little shaken after the drama, the fight, the intensity of everything.
But all she felt… was calm. Like someone had been there, guarding her… in a way that felt oddly familiar.
Her fingers brushed over the bracelet on her wrist, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Why do I feel… safe around him? she wondered quietly.
Noor shrugged it off, laying back on her bed, letting her swag slip for the night, her heart unknowingly pulling toward a past she didn't even remember.