His Predator Her Prey

Storms Within

It was Ayan who accidentally bumped into Maya. The collision was abrupt, jarring her slightly, and she staggered back with a sharp hiss. "Ow!" she cursed, rubbing her head where it had bumped against his shoulder. A flash of irritation crossed her face, eyes narrowing with anger.

But Ayan didn't seem to notice her discomfort. In fact, he looked mesmerized, as if he'd stumbled upon something rare and precious. His sharp features softened, and his gaze locked onto her as if the world had slowed down. His attention was focused solely on Maya—her dark, fierce eyes, her stubborn frown, and the wild energy that surrounded her like a storm.

"Beautiful..." he whispered under his breath, the word slipping out unconsciously, almost like a prayer.

Without realizing what he was doing, his hand found her waist. The action was instinctive, like a force beyond his control was drawing him closer to her. His fingers curled lightly, pulling her in a little too close, the warmth of her body igniting something dangerous inside him.

But Maya—oh, she wasn't one to be touched so easily. No one had ever dared cross that line with her. And certainly not a stranger. Her body went rigid, fury flooding her veins, her sharp instincts firing up like a warning siren.

Her eyes flared dangerously as she shoved his hand away, her heart pounding with anger.

THUD!

The sound of the slap echoed around them, sharp and merciless. Ayan's head jerked to the side under the impact, and for a second, the world seemed to freeze.

"Fucking. Stay. Away." Maya's voice was low, threatening, and filled with a venom that could stop anyone in their tracks.

She didn't wait for a response. Her fiery glare lingered for a moment longer, daring him to say something, but when he didn't, she turned on her heel and stormed away, her heels clicking loudly against the ground.

Ayan stood there, stunned but not in anger—no, he was fascinated. His cheek stung from the slap, but he wore a smile, one of intrigue and excitement. A strange pull toward this fierce, untouchable woman tugged at him, stronger than anything he'd ever felt before.

He watched her retreating figure, the sway of her hips, and the stormy energy she carried with her. And instead of being deterred, he found himself smiling even wider.

"That's going to be fun..." he muttered to himself, still rubbing the spot on his cheek where her hand had landed.

Something about Maya's fire intrigued him—how she'd fought back without hesitation, how she was unlike anyone else he had ever encountered. And that slap? It only made him want to know her more.

He ran a hand through his hair, still grinning.

Yeah, this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

After Maya's sudden departure, Ayan sat still in his studio, utterly lost in thought. The sound of instruments faded into the background as all he could recall was the slap she'd landed on his cheek. Oddly enough, the sting still lingered, but instead of feeling offended, he grinned like a complete idiot. A laugh bubbled up in his throat, as if the slap itself was some kind of precious keepsake.

"She's crazy," he muttered to himself, amused by her fiery temper. But somehow, her slap felt more memorable than any fleeting praise or compliment he had ever received. It was wild, unexpected—and so utterly her. And though he had met countless women over the years, none had intrigued him quite like Maya Rathod.

There was no denying it: her defiance, her audacity—it was intoxicating. She was a force of nature, unrestrained and uncontrollable, and Ayan couldn't help but feel that he had poked the storm and lived to tell the tale. A satisfied grin stretched across his face again. He hadn't even tried to dodge her slap. Perhaps, deep down, he didn't want to.