The evening sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving Gold Park in a hazy twilight. Ana was walking along the narrow road leading into the park when, suddenly, the streetlights flickered and went out. In the dimness, the roar of a powerful engine broke the silence.
Aryan Roy's sleek Porsche surged toward the parking lot. He was in a hurry to meet Mr. Han, driving faster than he should have. As the car hit a hidden puddle, a wave of muddy water splashed upward, soaking the hem of Ana's beautiful white dress.
"Hey! Stop!" Ana screamed, her voice echoing with anger.
The Porsche screeched to a halt. Aryan rolled down the tinted window, his face cold and indifferent. He didn't even look at her properly in the dark.
"You should be fined for standing in the middle of the road in such a cheap dress," Aryan said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You're lucky I didn't run you over."
Ana's blood boiled. Without a second thought, she grabbed a small, overflowing dustbin from the roadside and emptied the entire thing onto the side of his pristine car. "And you're lucky I don't have a bucket of paint!" she snapped.
In the darkness, neither could see the other's face clearly. Aryan growled in frustration, but he was late for his meeting. He sped off, leaving Ana to clean herself up as best she could before meeting Shila.
The First Look: Eyes of Destiny
Ana found Shila waiting near the serene park lake. She chose a secluded bench by the water, hoping for some peace. But just as they sat down, a tall figure approached. It was Aryan, looking for the same quiet spot for his meeting with Mr. Han.
As he reached the bench, the dim park lights flickered back on.
For the first time, their eyes met.
Time seemed to freeze. The world around them blurred into a soft hum. Ana felt her breath hitch—she had never seen a man so breathtakingly handsome in her entire life. His eyes were like a deep, dark ocean she was drowning in.
Aryan, too, felt a jolt of electricity. He had seen countless beautiful women across the globe, but this girl... she was heavenly. There was a strange, magnetic pull toward her, a feeling as if his soul recognized her from another life. "Who is she?" he wondered, his heart racing for the first time.
Suddenly, the voice of Mr. Han broke the spell. "Mr. Roy! Glad you could make it."
The magic vanished. Aryan's mask of arrogance slammed back into place.
"This spot is reserved for my business discussion," Aryan stated coldly, looking at Ana. "Find another place to sit."
Ana's admiration turned into instant disgust. "So, this is the jerk from the car!" she thought. Shila, terrified of another scene, pulled Ana toward a nearby bench.
The Revenge of the Melody
As Ana sat on the next bench, she fumed. "He might have the face of an angel, but his heart is as bitter as gall," she muttered to herself.
Determined to get back at him, Ana began to sing. She didn't just sing; she sang loudly and passionately, her beautiful voice intentionally clashing with the serious business tones of Aryan's meeting.
Aryan gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as he tried to focus on Mr. Han's words. Every time he tried to make a point, Ana's voice would soar higher.
To ignore him further, Ana pulled out her phone and started taking photos of Shila, who was posing awkwardly. Seeing the camera flash, Aryan's patience snapped. He was used to paparazzi stalking him, and he assumed this girl was doing the same.
He stood up abruptly, walked over to Ana, and snatched the phone right out of her hand.
"How much do you want for these photos?" Aryan hissed, his eyes blazing. "Delete them now! I won't have some random girl selling my face to the tabloids."
Ana stood up, matching his height with her fiery gaze. She snatched her phone back with a force that surprised him.
"Take a look in the mirror, Mr. Arrogant!" she retorted. "I have zero interest in your face or your photos. My gallery is for beautiful things—and right now, you're the ugliest thing in this park!"
The air around them suddenly felt cold. Mr. Han and Shila stood frozen, their breaths hitched in their throats.
Aryan's jaw tightened so hard that a vein began to throb on his temple. His eyes, usually cool and calculating, turned into a dark, stormy abyss of pure anger. No one—not his competitors, not his family, and certainly not a random girl in a park—had ever dared to insult him like this.
Slowly, Aryan stepped closer, towering over her. His hands, usually folded or in his pockets, slowly clenched into tight, trembling fists. The knuckles turned white.
"What... did you just call me?" he whispered, his voice vibrating with a dangerous, low-pitched growl.
Ana didn't flinch, but she could feel the sheer power and intimidation radiating off him. Aryan raised his clenched fist, his gaze locked onto hers. For a split second, it looked like his legendary self-control was about to snap completely.
In that moment of suffocating tension, the only question remained: Will the King of the Roy Empire actually lose his mind over a girl he just met? Or is this the beginning of a war where only one heart will survive?