NOTE: Just a heads up! The upcoming sports league game and whatever I mention in the story is entirely fictional. It's not based on any real-life event happening in Spain or anywhere else. Consider it a sprinkle of make-believe in this world you're about to explore.
BEFORE MEERA'S KIDNAPPING.
Third pov:
Madrid, Spain:
Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the Hernandez mansion, casting a golden glow across the breakfast table. Pedro, the ever-cheerful butler who had served the family for years, moved briskly around the room, setting out a hearty spread.
There was a quiet ease in the air, a softness that hadn't been there before.
Carlos, now retired, sat comfortably with a newspaper in hand, his expression calm. The stress of work no longer hung over him—Adrian had taken the reins and was handling everything with quiet confidence.
The once-reckless boy had become a man, focused, sharp, and driven. The Hernandez household, once heavy with expectations, now thrived in a rhythm of warmth and quiet pride.
Fresh from his morning workout, Adrian stepped out of the shower, a towel slung low on his hips. At 27, he was the kind of man who turned heads without trying—charming, cocky, and effortlessly magnetic. His green eyes gleamed with mischief, and a hint of danger clung to his easy swagger.
He pulled on a crisp, light blue shirt that fit like it was made for him, the sleeves casually rolled up to reveal strong forearms. Dark jeans hugged his frame, complementing the broad shoulders and lean waist that made designers fight for his endorsement. Damp hair fell in that perfect, tousled mess—like he'd just rolled out of bed and still looked better than anyone else in the room.
Adrian wasn't just the face of Hernandez Corporation. He was the brand—confident, sharp, and unapologetically bold.
His room mirrored him: clean, modern, and stylish. White walls framed a bold black-and-white abstract above a sleek platform bed, dressed in cool gray. Chrome lamps and matching nightstands flanked the setup with minimal fuss.
His walk-in closet? A personal command center. Renovated to his taste—no dark wood, no outdated suits. Just a clean layout, glass-topped island, and perfectly arranged shelves showcasing his curated wardrobe. Everything about Adrian screamed control, precision, and swagger. He didn't need to prove he was a boss—he just was.
Adrian pov:
Alright. Mirror. Me. That smirk.
"Damn, Adrian," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "You look like a walking rom-com climax."
Today's the day. Not some boring board meeting. Not a quarterly report. Nah. Today, I finally see my Meera again. Three years apart? Worth every second.
Linz, I'm coming.
Six-hour flight from Madrid? Pfft. Not a problem when you have the Hernandez private jet. First class? I own the class.
I open the drawer.
There it is—the ring box.
Can't stop smiling. Tonight's the night.
"Tonight, Meera," I whispered, snapping it shut. "You're gonna say yes... and I'm gonna say it in Tamil."
Yep. I learned her mother tongue. Tamil, baby. With tutors. Flashcards. Secret sessions with Naveen. I even practiced that one perfect line.
"Ne ena Kalyanam pannikaraya?" (Will you marry me?)
The way her jaw's gonna drop... I'm ready.
But wait—it gets better.
Today's not just about love. It's also game day.
YOU ARE READING
𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓S
RomanceMeera never wanted to get tangled in complicated things. She was happy in her quiet world-books, her studies, the steady rhythm of her business economics classes, and the soft beats of her Bharatanatyam practice. Life wasn't flashy, but it was hers...
