Harry stepped into the room, already irritated from being interrupted. But the moment he saw who was inside, the irritation sharpened into something far darker.
His father sat comfortably at the head of the table… And beside him was a man Harry had never met personally, yet instantly disliked.
Because he knew exactly who he was.
The man who had hurt Airam long before Harry ever got the chance to love her.
Anyone who caused Airam pain was his enemy. Blood, power, age, it didn't matter.
Mr. Johnson Sr.Stood."Harry, meet Mr.Maktoub. The richest man in the Middle East. He is very interested in investing in any project Airam will be working on."
He smiled proudly, completely unaware of the fire already burning behind Harry's eyes. "I already have a project in mind."
Harry didn't even sit. "No," he said flatly. "Airam is not doing any project he's involved in."
His father's face tightened in irritation. "Harry, watch your tone."
"No, you watch yours," Harry snapped. "She's not working with him."
Mr. Johnson Sr. slammed a folder onto the desk. "I told you not to get involved with that girl! She is not like those girls you waste time with, she is too good for you!"
"Well," Harry shot back, voice cold, "she's my girlfriend. So… too bad."
His father inhaled sharply, furious. Mr. Maktoub raised a brow, unimpressed.
"I'm sorry about this," Mr. Johnson Sr. said quickly, waving a dismissive hand as though Harry were a misbehaving child. "Believe me, Mr.Maktoub, I will handle this. Airam is a sensible girl, she will be more than happy to take this project. My son is only good at sabotaging my best employees. He wants attention, as usual."
Harry's jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
Mr. Maktoub stood, his expression hardening. "Good. Because I have better plans for my daughter. And your son is not a part of it."
The room went silent.
Mr. Johnson Sr. blinked. "Your… daughter?"
"Yes," Mr.Maktou bsaid, almost proudly."Airam is a Maktoub. She uses her mother's middle name, but she is mine. And she is already betrothed to a man worthy of her status."
Harry barked a laugh, cold and humorless. "Really? And who are you to decide that? The man who tried to sell her at six years old?"
Mr. Maktoub's expression darkened dangerously. "Watch your tone, boy. Marriage is sacred. Only parents decide. I was not selling my daughter, I was giving her hand in marriage, as is common in our traditions. Something you will not understand. Stay away from her. This is your first and last warning."
He walked out without looking back.
Harry stood shaking, not with fear, but fury. Actual, physical fury.
"Harry..." his father started.
But Harry didn't let him finish.
He turned and walked out, the anger boiling under his skin, threatening to spill into something reckless.
Because no one, not even her father, got to take Airam away from him.
Airam tried, she really tried to push the memory of that kiss out of her mind.
Impossible. Every time she blinked, she felt Harry's mouth on hers again. Every time she breathed, she remembered the way he held her as he'd finally found something he'd been searching for.
So she focused on Jeff instead. Jeff was rambling about something, asking where she'd disappeared to earlier, joking about how she'd "escaped the chaos." But Airam's brain was miles away, replaying every second of the moment she and Harry had shared.
She forced a smile. "I… just stepped out for air."
Jeff was still talking when the atmosphere of the room shifted. A subtle ripple. A change in energy.
Without needing to look, Airam felt it. Harry had walked in.
She could feel his presence before she saw him, like gravity changing direction and pulling her toward him.
When she finally looked up, he was scanning the crowd, searching for one face.
Hers. His gaze locked on her instantly. Her breath hitched. Harry didn't hesitate. Didn't wait. Didn't care who was watching.
He walked through the crowd with a single purpose. Jeff's words faded into static.
Harry stopped right in front of them, eyes fixed only on Airam. And without asking, without giving her the chance to talk herself out of it.
He pulled her in by the waist. The room froze. And Harry kissed her.
Deep, soft, claiming.Not reckless, intentional. Like he was telling her and everyone else in that room exactly what she meant to him.
Airam's fingers curled weakly into his shirt, her knees almost giving in as her mind went blank. People started gasping.
Then cheering. Someone actually yelled, "Omg!"
Jeff stood there, stunned and speechless, his drink halfway to his mouth.
The entire team stared as they had just witnessed the finale of a drama series.
Harry only broke the kiss when the noise got too loud to ignore. He rested his forehead lightly on hers, breath warm, eyes locked on her dazed ones.
Then, still holding her close, he turned slightly toward the room and announced, clear and unapologetic:
"She's my girlfriend."A fresh wave of cheering exploded.
Airam, still in shock, still floating, didn't resist when he laced his fingers through hers. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, like grounding her, reminding her this was real.
She followed him out of the party in a daze, the noise fading behind them, her heartbeat anything but calm.
Because no matter how hard she'd tried. There was no erasing that kiss now.