
Author's Pov
Aahi took a deep breath, steadying herself before raising her hand to knock on the door. The soft thud echoed in the quiet hallway, but no response came. She waited a moment, biting her lip nervously, and then knocked again. Still, silence greeted her.
Hesitating only for a second, she pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as the cabin was revealed before her.
Her breath hitched.
The cabin was nothing short of mesmerizing-a blend of elegance and power. The walls were painted in deep shades of charcoal, with intricate golden accents that added a regal touch. The soft scent of leather and mahogany lingered in the air, and the sunlight streaming through the tall windows illuminated the space like a spotlight on a stage.
But what captivated her most wasn't the lavish interior-it was the portrait that hung prominently on the far wall.
It was a larger-than-life painting of Shivaay, and it demanded attention. His piercing emerald-green eyes seemed almost alive, holding an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. His jawline was sharp, his expression unreadable, but his aura in the painting radiated authority, as if he were silently judging the world beneath him.
Aahi's feet moved on their own, drawing her closer to the portrait. Her eyes trailed over the intricate brushstrokes, marveling at how vividly it captured every detail of him. She lingered on his eyes, those hypnotizing green orbs that seemed to pull her into a world of mystery and danger.
She didn't notice how long she stood there, completely lost in the painting, her thoughts drifting into places she wasn't sure she wanted to explore.
Suddenly, a deep, velvety voice snapped her out of her trance.
"Enjoying the view?"
Her heart leapt to her throat, and she spun around, coming face to face with the man himself-Shivaay.
He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, one brow raised in amusement. The real version of the portrait stood before her, more imposing and far more intimidating in person.
"I-uh-" Aahi stammered, heat rising to her cheeks as she realized she'd been caught staring.
But Shivaay didn't wait for her to finish. He strode past her, his presence overwhelming as he moved toward his desk. "If you're done admiring the decor, we can get to the reason you're here."
His tone was curt, leaving no room for small talk. Aahi swallowed hard, suddenly regretting ever stepping into his cabin uninvited.

Shivaay's POV
I hadn't heard her come in-I had been in the washroom, oblivious to her arrival. But as I stepped out, towel in hand, the sight before me brought me to a halt.
There she was, standing in front of my portrait. Aahi.
Her petite frame seemed even smaller in the vast expanse of my cabin, yet she commanded attention without even trying. Her gaze was fixed on the painting, her head tilted slightly as if she was trying to decipher the story behind it. For a moment, I just stood there, watching her.
And then I noticed it-the way her eyes lingered on the details. The curve of my jawline, the sharpness of my features, the piercing green eyes that stared back at her from the canvas.
She wasn't just looking. She was admiring.
A strange warmth crept up my neck, and before I could stop myself, I felt a slight blush rise to my cheeks. Me. Blushing.
