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Naina had barely stepped into the hospital when a strange weight settled over her. It was as if the air had thickened, pressing down on her with an unspoken warning. Her shift had barely begun, yet an uneasy sensation coiled in her stomach. She shook off the thought, forcing herself to focus. She had a long day ahead—rounds to complete, patients to tend to, and no room for distractions.

But that was before she saw him.

Veer Malhotra stood near the reception desk, his towering frame impossible to ignore. Dressed in a tailored black suit that fit him to perfection, he exuded the kind of presence that commanded attention without effort. His eyes, sharp and intense, locked onto hers the moment she stepped forward. Her breath hitched.

"Dr. Sharma," he greeted, his voice a low rumble.

Naina blinked, trying to recover from the unexpected encounter. "Mr. Malhotra. What are you doing here?"

His lips curved, but there was no warmth in his smile. "Checking on my mother’s progress. Is that a problem?"

She straightened. "Of course not. But if you need an update, you can ask the attending physician assigned to her case."

"I’d rather hear it from you."

There it was again. The undercurrent of control in his voice, the subtle demand wrapped in civility. Naina had encountered men like him before—powerful, relentless, used to getting their way. But Veer Malhotra was in a league of his own.

"Mr. Malhotra," she said carefully, "your mother is stable, and we’re monitoring her closely. There’s no cause for concern."

"That’s reassuring," he said, though his gaze remained fixed on her. "I’ve arranged for additional specialists to review her case. They’ll coordinate with you directly."

Her fingers curled at her sides. "With all due respect, we are fully capable of managing her care. Bringing in outsiders without consulting the medical team—"

"She’s my mother," he cut in smoothly, but there was steel beneath his words. "I have every right to ensure she gets the best treatment."

Naina inhaled sharply. "And we are providing exactly that. You need to trust the process."

Veer’s eyes darkened. "Trust is earned, Dr. Sharma. And I don’t take chances where my mother’s well-being is concerned."

Naina held his gaze, refusing to back down. "Neither do I."

A charged silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Something flickered in Veer’s expression—something unreadable, intense. But before she could dissect it, he exhaled and stepped back.

"Then we’ll see how you handle things," he murmured, almost to himself. "For now."

She wanted to snap at him, to tell him she wasn’t here to prove herself to him. But what good would that do? Instead, she turned on her heel, forcing herself to walk away with measured steps.

---

The rest of the day was a blur of patient charts, emergency calls, and the constant hum of the hospital. Yet, no matter how much she immersed herself in work, Veer’s presence lingered in the back of her mind. His words, his commanding gaze—they unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

It wasn’t just his interference that rattled her. It was something else. Something deeper, more dangerous. The way he looked at her—as if he saw more than she wanted to reveal.

That night, as she stepped out of the hospital, exhaustion weighing down her limbs, she found him waiting.

Leaning casually against a sleek black car, Veer looked entirely out of place yet utterly at home. His gaze flickered to her the moment she appeared, as if he had been expecting her all along.

Naina hesitated. "Are you seriously waiting for me?"

"Yes. Get in."

She gaped at him. "Excuse me?"

"It’s late," he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "You shouldn’t be going home alone."

She crossed her arms. "I can take care of myself."

"I don’t doubt that," he conceded. "But humor me."

"Why?"

His expression remained unreadable. "Because I want to."

A part of her wanted to argue, to refuse outright. But another part—the exhausted, wary part—knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. And if she was being honest with herself, the thought of driving herself home seemed preferable. But before she could insist, Veer’s voice cut through her thoughts.

"Your car will be led to your home by my driver. You’ll ride with me," he stated with finality.

She clenched her jaw, debating whether to push back, but something in his unwavering gaze told her it was pointless. With a sigh, she relented, sliding into the passenger seat.

With a sigh, she slid into the passenger seat. "Fine. But this isn’t going to be a habit."

Veer smirked as he started the car. "We’ll see."

The drive was quiet at first, the city lights casting shifting shadows across his sharp features. She studied him from the corner of her eye, wondering what kind of man went out of his way to control everything around him—including her, a woman he barely knew.

"You don’t like me very much, do you?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

She blinked. "I don’t know you well enough to like or dislike you."

He hummed as if considering her words. "But you don’t trust me."

"Trust is earned, Mr. Malhotra," she echoed his earlier words.

He glanced at her, something almost amused in his expression. "Touché."

Silence settled between them again, but this time, it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Naina found herself studying him—not just the hard angles of his face, but the tension in his jaw, the exhaustion that lurked beneath his composed exterior. There was more to Veer Malhotra than the ruthless businessman she had imagined.

When they finally reached her home she turned to him. "Thank you for the ride."

He inclined his head. "Get some rest, Dr. Sharma."

As she stepped out of the car and walked toward her home, she felt his gaze on her—watchful, lingering. And for the first time, she wondered if her life had just become far more complicated than she had ever anticipated.

Thank you for reading...!

Why do you think Veer is so insistent on ensuring Naina gets home safely?

 Is it just concern, or is there something more?