Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the meeting room at Hashmi Enterprise, casting warm gold across the long conference table. The air still smelled faintly of fresh coffee and new paper—a scent that always clung to early corporate mornings.
Everyone had gathered early to discuss the launch of their new product and the projected profits. The room buzzed with numbers, charts, deadlines—an energetic start to the day. Zayn and Meher sat across from each other, both alert, focused, and dressed sharply for the morning meeting.
They shared ideas, debated strategies, and exchanged the occasional sharp glance—one that meant I disagree with you but I'm too professional to start a war in front of everyone.
Finally, after nearly two hours, the meeting concluded. Chairs pushed back, muted yawns escaped, and employees slowly drifted toward the exit, eager to begin the rest of their morning tasks.
Meher stood from her chair, her movements crisp and efficient, already planning her next steps for the day. She had just lifted her foot to take a step when—
"Miss Meher."
Zayn's voice cut through the fading chatter.
Meher turned, raising one eyebrow in question.
"The meeting isn't over yet," Zayn said, tone calm but firm. Morning light framed him, making him look far more composed than anyone had a right to be this early.
"We still have more work to do."
Meher checked her watch only briefly, then shook her head.
"We'll do it tomorrow. I have some work in my company too."
A slow smirk formed on Zayn's lips. "Why? Do you need an excuse to meet me every day?"
Meher exhaled through her nose. "I have better things to do than ruin my morning by spending it with you."
Zayn's gaze sharpened with amusement. "How obsessed you are with me, Meher Khan."
Her jaw tightened. She gave him a thin, dangerous smile. "Don't you have any work besides flirting with girls?"
Zayn chuckled lightly. "No."
Meher clenched her palm, keeping her composure intact. She arched a single eyebrow.
"Don't try to mess with me, Mr. Zayn Hashmi." She turned to leave.
But Zayn stepped forward—slow, deliberate.
"What if I want to mess with you?" he murmured.
His voice softened, dipped lower, and he leaned in close enough that she caught the faint scent of his morning cologne. His breath brushed her ear.
"Miss Meher."
Meher froze. Her breath hitched. Her mind went blank for a heartbeat.
She reacted instinctively—fisting his collar between her fingers.
"How dare you come close to me and talk like this!"
Zayn's hand hovered near her waist—not touching, but close enough to unsettle her. Morning sunlight danced across his eyes, making them look darker.
"How dare I?" he whispered, lips curving. "Should I show you again?"
Her pulse pounded uncomfortably.
"Let go of me—" she began.
Zayn raised a brow, voice cool. "First, you let go of my collar."
Her fingers loosened. She released him.
He stepped back only then, expression unreadable.
Meher pointed a warning finger at him. "Don't you dare come near me again. Be careful, got it?"
Zayn's smirk returned—soft, but far too provoking.
"And if I don't?"
She didn't answer. She simply turned and walked out.
But as she reached the hallway, his voice followed her, smooth and teasing:
"You didn't answer my question—should I come closer next time?"
Outside, Meher breathed out shakily.
What is wrong with this man?
What is happening to me? First thing in the morning… seriously?
Behind a pillar, Faqair peeked out, muttering, "That didn't look like business…"
Zayn turned sharply. "What are you doing here?"
Faqair's eyes widened. "You're right—it's not good to watch someone's… romance."
Then he bolted away.
Zayn stared after him, baffled. "Romance? With her? Are you crazy?"
But his eyes flicked—unconsciously—toward the door she had just exited.
To be continued.....