To the world, Aarav Malhotra was steel—unshakable, intimidating, untouchable. But those who knew him closely, knew the truth. Beneath the sharp edges and the unrelenting drive lived a man who carried his mother’s photo in his wallet, who made time to read bedtime stories to his nieces, who still remembered birthdays and old promises.

And then, she walked in—uninvited, unexpected, undoing the years he had spent building walls with nothing more than a glance.