Unexpected Connection

Playing with fire.

The boardroom was spacious, filled with elegant leather chairs surrounding a long, polished mahogany table. Today was the presentation for the Khan Group Deal, and she was determined to keep her composure, even if Shah Rukh Khan was coming there, watching her with those intense, dark eyes. She wouldn't flinch or react at all to him.
Kajol sat at the head, poised and professional, her black power suit hugging her figure perfectly. Investors and executives filed in, greeting her with respect as they took their seats.

Her assistant handed her the presentation file, and Kajol gave a curt nod before glancing at the agenda on her tablet. The room hummed with quiet conversation as everyone settled down.

And then he walked in.

Shah Rukh entered the boardroom, exuding power and confidence, his presence commanding attention as usual. Kajol didn’t let her gaze linger, but she was keenly aware of him the way his eyes briefly locked onto hers, as if daring her to break her composure.

She didn’t.

Instead, she remained cool and detached, giving him a brief, professional nod. Shah Rukh took his seat a few chairs down, his jaw clenched just enough for her to notice.

The meeting commenced, and Kajol launched into the presentation, discussing recent acquisitions and expansion strategies for the contract between her and ShahRukh's company. She kept her voice firm and decisive, not once faltering, despite the firestorm of memories that threatened to flood her mind.

As she spoke, she felt his gaze on her heavy, unwavering. A shiver ran down her spine, but she didn’t miss a beat, maintaining eye contact with the investors and answering their questions with precision. She looked at him momentarily.

He leaned back, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished table. His lips curled slightly at the edges—a subtle, knowing smirk that made her insides clench. Damn him. After that night in Belgium, she’d promised herself that he wouldn’t get under her skin again. But it was easier said than done.

Once the presentation concluded, applause echoed through the room, and Kajol gave a gracious nod. Investors were clearly impressed, murmuring among themselves about the proposed deal’s potential.

As the room began to empty, she busied herself with gathering her files, determined to escape without encountering him. But just as she moved toward the exit, a strong, warm hand gripped her elbow, stopping her in her tracks.

“Miss Devgan.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it vibrated with authority.

She turned, schooling her expression into one of polite indifference. “Mr. Khan,” she acknowledged, her tone formal and detached.

“Your presentation was flawless,” he remarked, his thumb grazing her elbow before he let go. “But I noticed something missing.”

Kajol arched a brow, determined not to show weakness. “And what might that be?”

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “Your passion.”
There was an underlying tension in his words, a subtle challenge, but Kajol didn’t falter.  Her jaw clenched. “Business requires precision, not passion.”

He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Funny. I remember a night in Belgium where passion was all you gave me.”

Her spine stiffened, but she didn’t let his words faze her. “That night meant nothing, it was irrelevant,” she said coldly, brushing past him towards her office. He followed behind her.

“Kajol,” he said smoothly, his voice low and private. “We need to talk.”

She kept her expression neutral, packing up her documents. “About business? Or something else?”