Playing with Fire

**Chapter 1: The Game Begins**

The bass thumped through the crowded room, a pulsing heartbeat of the party that mirrored the tension simmering between us. I, Anushka, stood near the bar, a glass of something dangerously sweet in my hand, my eyes scanning the sea of bodies for Abhimanyu. My situationship. My infuriating, magnetic, on-again-off-again obsession. Tonight, I was done playing nice. If he thought he could keep me on a leash with his hot-and-cold bullshit, he had another thing coming.

I adjusted the plunging neckline of my crimson dress, the fabric clinging to every curve like a second skin. I knew I looked like sin incarnate, and I intended to use every inch of it to my advantage. My gaze landed on a guy across the room—tall, decent-looking, and most importantly, not Abhimanyu. Perfect. I flashed him a smile, slow and deliberate, and watched as he started making his way over.

'Hey, gorgeous,' he said, voice dripping with predictable charm. 'Haven’t seen you around before.'

I tilted my head, letting a strand of hair fall over my shoulder. 'Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong places,' I purred, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of movement—Abhimanyu, leaning against a wall, his jaw tight, eyes burning holes into me. Gotcha.

'Well, I’m looking now,' the guy grinned, stepping closer. 'Wanna dance?'

'Thought you’d never ask,' I replied, tossing a smirk over my shoulder as I let him lead me to the dance floor. I could feel Abhimanyu’s stare like a physical touch, hot and possessive, and it sent a thrill down my spine. I pressed myself against the stranger, my hips swaying to the beat, but my mind was elsewhere—on the storm I knew I was brewing.

It didn’t take long. Barely a minute into the song, a hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me away with a force that made my breath hitch. Abhimanyu. His dark eyes were a wildfire, and his voice was a low growl as he leaned in close. 'What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Anushka?'

I yanked my wrist free, stepping right up to him, my chest brushing against his. 'Having fun. Problem with that?' I shot back, my tone sharp enough to cut glass. 'You don’t own me, Abhi. Or did you forget?'

His lips curled into a dangerous smirk, but his eyes were anything but amused. 'Oh, I haven’t forgotten a damn thing. But you’re playing a game you’re not ready to lose.'

'Is that a threat?' I challenged, stepping even closer, the heat of his body igniting something reckless in me. 'Because I’m not scared of you.'

'You should be,' he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers racing down my spine. His hand slid to my lower back, pulling me against him, and I could feel the hard press of his body through the thin fabric of my dress. 'Keep pushing me, Anu, and I’ll show you exactly who’s in control.'

My heart pounded, but I wasn’t about to back down. I tilted my chin up, my lips inches from his. 'Then show me. Or are you all talk?'

That was the match to the gasoline. His grip tightened, and in a blur, he was dragging me through the crowd, past curious stares, until we were in a dimly lit hallway, away from prying eyes. He shoved me against the wall, his body caging mine, and I could see the raw, unfiltered hunger in his gaze.

'You think you can flaunt yourself like that and I won’t do a damn thing about it?' he growled, his breath hot against my ear. 'You’re mine, Anushka. And I’m about to remind you why.'

My pulse raced as his hands roamed my body, rough and possessive, and I knew there was no turning back. This wasn’t just jealousy—this was a claiming. And as his lips crashed into mine, hard and demanding, I realized I’d pushed him too far. But fuck, I wanted this. I wanted him to lose control, to take me right here, right now, until neither of us could think straight.

[To be continued...]