The Mumbai monsoon had begun, drenching the city in heavy sheets of rain. The school corridors were slippery, echoing with the chatter of students rushing to their classrooms, umbrellas dripping water on the marble floors. Amid the chaos, Aria Kapoor strutted down the hallway, her school bag swinging carelessly, hair damp but styled with streaks of caramel highlights that glinted under the fluorescent lights.
Aria had always been the kind of girl who could turn heads without trying. She had a playful chaos about her—messy charm that made her both irresistible and infuriating. Today, though, her mind wasn't on gossip or friends. It was on something far more dangerous: the new tutor assigned to help her with advanced mathematics—someone her teachers had described in whispers as "strict," "intimidating," and "brilliant."
Her best friend, Siya Malhotra, trailed behind, shaking her head.
"Aria, you're literally dripping like a monsoon puddle. Are you seriously going to charm him with wet hair and a school uniform?" Siya's voice was laced with teasing judgment.
Aria smirked, flicking a wet strand of hair behind her shoulder. "Charm him? Please. I'm going to annoy him first. That's more fun."
Siya rolled her eyes. "You and your chaos… just… don't get him to snap at you, okay? You know how scary he is."
"And you don't know me, Si," Aria shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I thrive on scary."
Meanwhile, in the tutor's room, Kian Malhotra sat silently at a massive oak desk, the kind of desk that screamed power and authority. His dark eyes scanned the papers in front of him, perfectly still, muscles taut beneath the fitted shirt he always wore—crisp, clean, and intimidatingly sharp. Every movement was controlled, precise. He looked up briefly at the clock, his jaw tightening.
"Should be here any minute," he muttered, his voice low and smooth—like velvet hiding steel.
Kian had heard of Aria Kapoor already—she was infamous among teachers for being brilliant yet chaotic, unpredictable, and often impossible to control. He had been warned to stay patient. Not that he liked being warned. Patience was not his strongest suit.
The door slammed open, literally colliding with the frame. Aria stepped in, soaked, hair sticking to her forehead, eyes wide and mischievous.
"Hi!" she said, too cheerfully. "I'm Aria Kapoor. I hear you're the math wizard?"
Kian's gaze flicked up, cool and sharp, studying her as if he were weighing whether she was a threat or a toy. The silence was immediate and suffocating, making Aria shift slightly.
"I am Kian Malhotra," he said finally, his tone flat but dangerous, eyes never leaving hers. "Sit."
Aria sat—well, more like flopped—onto the chair, legs swinging, her chaotic energy bouncing off the walls. She tried to grin, tried to appear innocent, but there was something about Kian that made her pulse race—a mix of intimidation and… something else.
"Math is boring," she said, voice playful. "Can we make it… fun?"
Kian's jaw tightened. "Fun doesn't exist in mathematics. Only answers and mistakes."
Aria laughed—short, sharp, wild. "Hmm. Sounds like my kind of challenge."
Outside the room, Vivaan Sharma peeked through the glass panel of the door, smirking. "Ooh, she's here," he whispered to Siya, who immediately groaned.
"She's trouble," Siya said quietly. "For him… and for herself."
Vivaan's grin widened. "Exactly. This is going to be… interesting."
Inside, Kian opened a notebook, precise lines of numbers and formulas filling the page. Aria leaned over, brushing against his arm by accident—or was it on purpose? Kian's dark eyes caught her movement, and for the first time, something flickered—a hint of irritation, a spark of intrigue.
"You're… chaotic," he said finally, voice low. "Do you always make a mess of things?"
Aria's grin widened, eyes sparkling dangerously. "Not always. Sometimes I make magic."
Kian's silence was the only reply, but it was heavier than words. Aria felt it—intense, magnetic, the kind of silence that could either crush her or pull her in.
And at that very moment, in the little tutoring room, a dangerous game had begun.