Prologue

Fawad

The high-rise office on the forty-second floor was quiet, wrapped in the cool, clinical calm that Fawad loved. Down below, the city was a sea of chaotic traffic and morning noise, but up here, everything was strictly controlled. Immaculate glass walls, the faint scent of cedarwood, and a schedule timed down to the minute.

Just the way he liked it.

He adjusted his cufflinks, picked up the hot cup of black espresso, and glanced at the thick leather folder his elder brother and father had left on his desk earlier that morning.

"She came highly recommended through Kesha," his brother’s voice echoed in his head from their earlier conversation. "Dad already looked over her qualifications. She’s sharp, hardworking, and needs the break. We’ve short-listed her for your personal executive assistant position, Fawad. You just need to conduct the final interview."

Fawad flipped open the file with a subtle roll of his eyes. He didn't need an assistant who was a charity case or a friend-of-a-friend favor. He needed someone who could keep up with his brutal pace without crumbling under pressure.

His eyes scanned down the resume until they hit the bold header at the top of the page.

**KAINAAT SAYAD.**

Fawad froze. The porcelain espresso cup hovered inches from his lips.

He stared at the name, the sharp black ink blurring as a wave of unexpected, long-buried memories came rushing back.

*A dusty garden ten years ago.*

*A fierce seven-year-old girl with dark, untamed hair, stomping her foot in fury because he refused to give her the last piece of candy.*

*“You think you’re so smart just because you look like a doll, Beauty?!” she had yelled, her tiny hands clenched into angry fists, absolutely fearless despite being half his size.*

*He had laughed back then, crossing his arms and leaning down to look her in the eye. “And you’re just a little headache, aren’t you?”*

*“I’m not a headache!” she had shrieked.*

*“Fine,” young Fawad had smirked. “A little beasty, then.”*

She had moved away shortly after that. A sudden, quiet departure when her family’s fortunes shifted, leaving behind only the ghost of her fiery laughter and a childhood nickname he had somehow never managed to forget.

Fawad leaned back in his leather chair, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his face as he traced the printed photograph attached to the corner of the resume. The rounded, sweet cheeks were gone, replaced by sharp, expressive features and eyes that still burned with that same unmistakable, stubborn light.

She obviously had no idea whose company she was applying to. To her, this was just a high-paying corporate opportunity set up by her friend Kesha and approved by the company's senior directors. She had no clue that the "demanding CEO" waiting for her in the corner office was the same boy she used to pick fights with.

Fawad closed the folder with a decisive *snap* and picked up his phone, tapping his secretary’s line.

"Sir?"

"Tell HR to finalize the schedule for today's candidate," Fawad said, his voice smooth, cold, and dripping with quiet amusement. "Miss Siddiqui. Send her up the moment she arrives."

He set the phone down and looked out over the skyline, loosening his tie just a fraction.

Welcome to my world, Little Beasty, he thought, the spark of anticipation warming his chest for the first time in years. Let’s see if you still have that bite.