Dr. Raina Mehta was known for her emotional discipline.
She built her reputation as the therapist who never crossed boundaries—
the woman who never let anyone inside her private world.
After her painful divorce, she created a life like a sterile glass room:
orderly, quiet, controlled.
She treated emotions like symptoms.
She treated trauma like data.
She treated love like a disease that should never be repeated.
And she was perfectly fine staying untouched by anything that resembled desire.
Until the night he entered her clinic.
He wasn't nervous like her usual clients.
He didn't shift or avoid eye contact.
He didn't sit with insecurity.
He sat with ownership.
Like he wasn't there seeking help—
but like he was there to examine her.
He spoke her childhood nickname—
a name buried in a past she never discussed.
A name she believed no one here could possibly know.
That was the moment she realized something terrifying:
He didn't come to be healed.
He came because he had been watching her.
Studying her.
Knowing her.
He was not a patient.
He was a threat wrapped in perfect calm.
And before she could process that, she knew one thing with absolute clarity:
This man was going to destroy every wall she had built around her heart
not through violence,
but through knowledge,
intimacy,
and precision.
And somewhere deep inside her
a part of her that she thought was dead
reacted.
Not with fear.
But with… curiosity.
And that might become the most dangerous part of all.
Because some obsessions don't come with warning.
Some obsessions knock on your clinic door…
and walk right in.