"You have no idea what I am going to do now .........Love!"
Dark Romance
Betrayer
Hate
Forced
-------------------
He got her but she ............ran away
*Zade cursed under his breath as she suddenly ran away. He quickly pulls himself together, risi...
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The morning came too bright, too loud, and too real. I groaned into my pillow as my alarm screamed somewhere across the room — I'd thrown it there last night, a crime of exhaustion. My limbs felt heavy, my head foggy. Not because of the party — I hadn't touched alcohol — but because drama apparently ran through my veins more efficiently than caffeine.
Dragging myself out of bed, I stared at my reflection. My hair was a war zone, my eyes slightly smudged with leftover eyeliner, and I looked every bit the girl who'd shattered a glass over someone's head less than thirty-four hours ago.
"Perfect," I muttered, brushing my hair into something that looked semi-human.
Downstairs, the house was already alive. Ma was barking orders into her phone about the wedding, someone was dragging in boxes of décor, and I nearly tripped over a tray of bangles left on the floor. I grabbed a toast, dodged a servant carrying flowers, and ran out before Ma could assign me a new "wedding task of the day."
By the time I reached campus, the chaos felt comfortably familiar — students rushing, coffee cups in hand, the buzz of chatter mixing with the clatter of heels and sneakers. Ahaan was leaning against his car, sunglasses on, the picture of unnecessary attitude.
"You look alive," he said, smirking.
"I am alive," I replied, taking a dramatic sip of my iced coffee. "Barely, but alive."
He chuckled, falling in step beside me. "You sure you didn't murder anyone else last night?"
"Not yet. But the day's still young."
We both laughed, the sound easy and carefree. For a while, it was just like any other day — notes, gossip, and the usual chaos of lectures. Until the universe decided I'd had too much peace.
When I entered the lecture hall, the atmosphere was unusually charged. People were whispering, fidgeting, glancing toward the door. I frowned.
"What's with the energy? Did someone bring a celebrity or something?" I muttered, sliding into my seat.
And then, the door opened.
Black shirt. Rolled sleeves. Controlled stride. The kind of presence that didn't demand attention — it commanded it.
Zade.
For a split second, the world seemed to tilt. My fingers froze around my pen. The students' chatter melted into silence.
What the hell is he doing in my class.
He didn't look at anyone directly, yet somehow, it felt like his gaze touched everything. The light from the tall windows hit his jawline just right — unfairly right — and his voice when he finally spoke sent a hush across the room.
"Good morning. I'll be handling a few sessions this term," he said, tone smooth but clipped. "You may call me Professor Zade Rahim."
