Chapter 1
The hallway was unusually quiet. Afternoon light spilled through high windows, casting long reflections across the polished floor. Most students had disappeared to the canteen or the library.
Riya was among the few left—books pressed against her chest, her laptop balanced on top. Her mind was on her unfinished project when someone turned the corner too fast.
The collision came without warning.
Her books slipped. The laptop spun from her hands. Her balance faltered.
A hand caught the laptop mid-air.
It was clean, effortless—too practiced to be accidental.
Riya looked up.
A man stood before her—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark shirt. His expression was unreadable; no apology, no surprise. Just composure so complete it felt unnatural.
He set the laptop gently on a nearby bench and stepped back.
“Watch where you’re going,” Riya began, irritation colouring her tone.
He didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at her.
“Move,” he said.
The word was low, steady, absolute.
She froze, startled by its sharpness.
“Excuse me?”
He glanced at her once—detached, uninterested—and walked past as though she hadn’t spoken.
“It was your fault,” she called after him.
Without turning, his voice came back, measured and cool.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Riya stood amid the scattered papers, annoyance tightening her jaw. His footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving only the faint hum of silence.
The lecture hall hummed with low conversation—chairs scraping, pages flipping, a few laughs echoing from the back row. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the desks.
Riya sat beside Anjali, absently scrolling through her notes while the chatter continued.
“I heard a new visiting professor’s joining today,” Anjali whispered, eyes bright.
“Oh?” Riya asked without looking up.
“Dr. V. Oberoi,” Anjali said, lowering her voice as if the name carried weight. “Doctorate from Oxford. Worked at Australia’s top research institutes. He’ll be teaching here for a few months.”
Riya looked up, mildly intrigued. “Impressive background. I like professors who actually make you think.”
“Then you’ll like him,” Anjali said, smiling. “Rumour is, he’s strict—doesn’t tolerate distractions.”
Riya laughed softly. “So he enjoys terrifying students. Perfect.”
Before Anjali could reply, the door opened.
A tall man stepped inside, his stride measured, expression unreadable. Dark suit, impeccable presence. The room fell silent.
Riya froze.
That face. Those eyes. That same calm authority.
It was him.
The man from the hallway.
The one who had caught her laptop and told her to move.
“Good morning, students,” he said. Calm. Precise. “I’m Dr. Vivan Oberoi. I’ll be handling your course for the next few months.”
Every eye fixed on him.
Riya sank slightly in her seat, disbelief flashing across her face.
Of all people—her new professor was him.
The class began, and Vivan proved precise and uncompromising.
When a student entered noisily, he didn’t speak—just looked up. One cold glance, and the hall fell silent.
“Only serious students will be taught here,” he said. “If you’re here to learn, you may stay. Otherwise, you’re free to leave.”
Riya folded her arms. “So,” she asked, voice carrying, “is ignoring people part of your syllabus?”
A hush fell.
Vivan turned slowly.
“Excuse me?” Calm, but sharp.
Riya met his gaze. “Do you have trouble saying a simple ‘sorry’ after bumping into someone—or did they skip that lesson at Oxford?”
Whispers spread across the room.
Vivan regarded her for a moment. Then, expression unchanged, he returned to the board.
“If you’re that interested in debates, Miss… you should have taken a psychology course. Now, back to our topic.”
Riya’s cheeks heated. “What a jerk,” she muttered under her breath.
Not quietly enough.
Vivan stopped and turned.
The hall went silent again.
“Miss—?” His voice carried warning.
“Riya,” she said. “And yes, you heard me.”
A pause.
“So, you think you can disrespect a professor without consequences?”
“Do you think you can be rude to students without consequences?”
He drew a slow breath. “Fine. Principal’s office. Now.”
Riya slammed her palm on the desk. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yes. I don’t repeat myself.”
The hall fell into stunned silence.
