Within a year, the academy became untouchable.
Not officially, of course. Officially, we were described as promising, revolutionary, the rising face of modern choreography.
Unofficially?
We were terrifying.
Competition after competition, we dominated stages so completely that other academies had started referring to Pierre Academy as the execution ground.
Pierre framed every article ever written about us. Daniel pretended not to care while secretly correcting grammatical errors in interviews about himself. Sam thrived purely on chaos.
And me?
I finally had my own apartment.
A small seventh-floor space overlooking the city lights, filled with coffee cups, choreography notes, oversized hoodies, and enough emotional instability to qualify as a second tenant.
From the outside, my life looked perfect.
Inside?
It was complicated.
Mostly because Adithya Krishna — the prince of hell himself — had apparently decided distance was not enough to stop him from ruining my romantic life.
It started subtly.
The first guy who asked me out received an anonymous text message that simply read:
Touch her and your blood type becomes a group project.
He blocked me immediately afterward.
The second one made it all the way to an actual date before waking up the next morning covered in ant bites because someone had apparently poured sugar across his bed sheets.
The third?
Poor soul arrived at rehearsal looking traumatised.
"What happened to you?" I asked.
He stared at me for a solid five seconds before whispering, "Your friends are terrifying."
Turns out Daniel had calmly sat beside him at a café the previous evening and said:
"She cries during sad dog videos and pretends she doesn't. Hurt her, and I'll make your disappearance look educational."
Then Pierre had smiled sweetly and added, "We already know where you live."
I nearly fainted from secondhand embarrassment.
"You threatened him?" I hissed later.
"We implied consequences," Daniel corrected calmly.
"That is still threatening!"
Pierre shrugged while eating fries. "Honestly, he looked weak anyway."
And somehow… it got worse.
Because the few men who survived Daniel and Pierre long enough to actually date me inevitably turned out to be terrible people.
I would come home after dinner and find mysterious envelopes waiting at my doorstep containing screenshots, photos, and evidence of cheating so detailed it felt professionally curated.
One man had three girlfriends.
Another was secretly engaged.
One particularly horrifying individual apparently had a wife in Dubai.
Every single time, without fail, a message would arrive immediately afterward.
Wait for me, my dear princess. Your prince will soon fly back to find you.
Or worse:
My love. My life. My everything.
Those words should not have affected me anymore.
And yet every single time I read them, my stupid traitorous heart reacted like it had forgotten he was literally engaged to someone else.
Adithya Krishna had managed to become both the greatest heartbreak and the biggest inconvenience of my life simultaneously.
Which was exactly why I decided to keep George a secret.
No Pierre.
No Daniel.
And absolutely no emotionally unstable billionaire finding ways to sabotage it from New York.
George was different.
He had recently moved to India to manage a new corporate branch and somehow balanced being intelligent, kind, and painfully attractive without behaving like a walking psychological crisis.
He helped me with choreography sometimes. He listened when I spoke. He respected boundaries.
Most importantly?
He knew when to stop.
There were no dangerous smirks. No possessive whispers. No "you belong to me" energy that rewired my nervous system permanently.
George was safe.
And after Adithya, safe felt important.
Tonight was supposed to be our third date.
I stood before my mirror adjusting the black dress hugging softly against my waist, decorated with delicate white floral patterns. For once, I allowed myself to feel nervous in a normal way instead of an emotionally catastrophic way.
The doorbell rang.
Smiling, I opened it — and immediately froze.
Pierre stood outside sobbing dramatically.
"Oh my God, what happened?" I asked, pulling her into a hug instantly.
She buried her face into my shoulder for exactly three seconds before suddenly screaming:
"SURPRISE! I GOT ENGAGED TO DANIEL!"
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
Honestly? The entire academy had been waiting for this. Those two fought like divorced royalty and stared at each other like unresolved tension personally offended them.
"I knew it," I sighed dramatically before hugging her properly. "You psychos are perfect for each other."
Pierre grinned proudly. "Thank you."
As we stepped inside, I hesitated briefly before finally saying, "Pierre… there's something important I need to tell you."
She narrowed her eyes immediately. "You're pregnant?"
"What? No!"
"Tax fraud?"
"PIERRE."
"Okay, continue."
I sighed. "There's someone I really like."
That got her attention instantly.
"His name is George," I admitted quietly. "He's genuine. Calm. He actually cares about me."
Pierre listened silently while I nervously continued defending him before she even criticised anything.
"Yes, he spends too much time on his phone. And yes, he forgets things sometimes. But he's trying."
Pierre's expression shifted slightly. Something unreadable crossed her face.
Then the doorbell rang again.
I opened it to find George standing there looking devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo.
Unfortunately, he was also texting while standing on my doorstep.
Pierre looked at him once and deadpanned, "He appears emotionally committed to his phone."
I rolled my eyes. "Ignore her."
George finally looked up and smiled apologetically before putting the phone away.
That was when I noticed it.
His face looked pale. Sweaty. Tense.
His breathing was uneven despite the cool evening air.
"What happened?" I asked immediately.
"Work stress," he admitted. "My boss arrives tomorrow, and he's… intense."
Something about the way he said boss made me strangely uneasy.
"He sent impossible paperwork before arriving," George continued tiredly. "I barely slept."
Feeling guilty, I stepped closer and hugged him gently. "Can I help somehow?"
"No."
The answer came too quickly. Too sharply.
And before I could react, he carefully pulled away from my arms.
That hurt more than it should have.
The date ended early after that. George apologised repeatedly before leaving, clearly distracted by something bigger than work stress alone.
The next morning was graduation day.
Freedom tasted incredible.
No more exams. No more deadlines. Just dance and whatever came next.
George texted me again that evening.
Business party tonight. Be ready by 7.
I smiled despite yesterday. Maybe he was trying to make up for it.
By 6:45, I was ready. George arrived exactly on time, handsome as ever in another dark tuxedo.
Everything felt normal.
Until the car stopped.
My blood ran cold instantly.
Justin's house.
Every instinct in my body screamed danger.
"Why are we here?" I asked quietly.
George looked confused. "The business party is here tonight. My boss personally selected the venue."
Something felt horribly wrong.
The house glowed with golden lights, luxury cars lining the driveway beneath the night sky. Music drifted softly from inside while elegantly dressed guests moved through the enormous entrance.
George stepped out first and opened my door.
And the moment I entered the mansion—
The entire room went silent.
My breath caught.
Because standing at the center of the ballroom beneath crystal chandeliers was Adithya Krishna.
One year later.
And somehow he looked even more devastating than I remembered.
Black suit. Broad shoulders. Dark eyes. Power clinging to him like a second skin.
The prince of hell had returned.
His gaze landed on me instantly.
Everything else disappeared.
The room. The music. The conversations.
Gone.
Shock flashed across his face first. Real, genuine shock.
Then confusion.
Then something far worse.
Because George stepped beside me.
And Adithya realised exactly what it looked like.
Adithya's POV
For one entire year, I stayed away from her because I thought it was the right thing to do.
Because my father collapsed.
Because the company nearly fell apart.
Because every time I picked up my phone to call her, I remembered the engagement announcement forced onto me by families, investors, and board members waiting like vultures for weakness.
The engagement had never been real.
Not to me.
The woman behind the "mystery fiancée" headline was simply a corporate arrangement waiting to collapse quietly once the company stabilised.
Shreya never knew that.
And maybe I deserved that punishment.
But tonight was supposed to fix everything.
Tonight was supposed to be hers.
The moment I stabilised the company, the first thing I did was fly back to India and plan the surprise myself. Justin's house. Her graduation celebration. The academy. Pierre and Daniel helping behind the scenes.
And the ring in my pocket.
Because after one entire year away from the love of my life, I was finally going to ask her to stay.
Then she walked in.
Beautiful enough to stop my breathing entirely.
And another man walked in beside her.
George.
My assistant.
My employee.
My loyal, painfully nervous assistant.
Who was apparently dating my girl.
The world went silent around me.
George looked seconds away from cardiac arrest. Smart choice.
And Shreya—
God.
One year. One entire year and she still looked at me like she was simultaneously furious at me and trying not to fall apart because of me.
Mine.
Every irrational, possessive part of me snapped violently awake the moment I saw her beside someone else.
Especially him.
I stared directly at George.
George visibly started sweating harder.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Because suddenly, a lot of things made sense.
The nervous behavior. The secrecy. The panic.
My assistant had accidentally fallen in love with the woman his boss would burn cities down for.
And judging by the look on Shreya's face when she saw me?
She had absolutely no idea tonight was originally supposed to end with my ring on her finger.
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