The ballroom gleamed with a subtle golden hue, crystal chandeliers reflecting the soft light across the marble floor as the music slowed to something gentle and classical. Couples moved in synchronized rhythm, laughter bubbled in clusters, and the rich murmur of conversation filled the space like a warm blanket.

But Dharsh Malhotra stood still. Away from the crowd, leaning against one of the carved pillars, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed the girl he had just met-Dhwani.

It wasn't like him to be distracted. Yet ever since he had opened that suite door and seen her standing on the balcony-phone pressed to her ear, face illuminated by the city lights-something had shifted. Not loud or chaotic. Subtle. Silent. Almost haunting.

He had barely known her name until Diya mentioned it.

Dhwani.

Like the softest sound, lingering in the air.

"Caught you zoning out," Diya's voice broke through his thoughts. She appeared beside him, swirling a drink in her hand, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Let me guess. Still thinking about the girl with the hospital call and starry balcony?"

Dharsh didn't look at her. "She had an emergency. That's it."

"That's what your face says too." Diya smirked, tilting her head.

Dharsh turned his eyes away from her and looked across the room. Dhwani was now walking beside her father, who was in a deep conversation with his own father-Mr. Malhotra. She looked calm again, her lips moving in quiet words, her posture straight, composed. But then, her phone vibrated again.

Dhwani's hand instinctively reached for it. A glance. Her breath hitched ever so slightly. She turned slightly away and picked up.

"Yes, this is Dr. Dhwani... what happened?"

A pause. "BP dropped? And the oxygen?"

Another pause. "Did you try the dopamine push already? Okay. Get the team ready, I'm on my way. ETA-twenty minutes."

She ended the call, pressing her fingers to her forehead for a moment. And then, she turned to her father.

"Papa..." she spoke low, almost reluctant to interrupt.

He looked at her with warmth. "Kya hua, beta?"

"There's a case. ICU. I need to leave now."

"Now?" he frowned slightly. "At this hour, all alone?"

"I'll take a cab-"

"No, you won't," came another voice. Mr. Malhotra, who had been quietly listening, now stepped in with a firm yet kind smile. "Dharsh is here. He'll drop you."

Before she could respond, before she could even protest with her polite tone and self-reliant calm, he had already taken out his phone and made the call.

Dharsh's phone buzzed.

"Yes?"

"Come here."

"Where?"

"To the central lounge. You'll be dropping someone."

There was a slight pause. "Who?"

"You'll see."

When Dharsh arrived, his eyes fell immediately on her.

For a second, it was as if the ballroom blurred around the edges.

The same girl from the balcony. Only now, closer. Real. Still composed but clearly worried.

His father gestured. "Dharsh, this is Dr. Dhwani. Emergency at the hospital. Drop her to City Grace."

Their eyes met properly for the first time.

And neither said a word.

"Thank you, Mr. Malhotra," Dhwani said softly, glancing at the older man and her father before following Dharsh toward the exit.

As they walked through the grand hallway and down the steps, Dharsh stayed one step ahead, unlocking the car without glancing back.

He opened the passenger door. She slipped inside, murmuring, "Thanks."

He nodded once, quietly taking his seat at the wheel.

The engine started, but the silence was louder.

In the rear-view mirror, the ballroom faded into a blur of lights. And between them, in the enclosed space of the car, sat two people who belonged to completely different lives. He, the cold-hearted businessman with walls built taller than skyscrapers. She, the calm storm wrapped in a white coat, answering emergencies with unshaken nerves.

But in that silence-something stirred.

Dharsh kept his eyes on the road, but his mind... it was somewhere else.

He had been around women his entire life. Some dressed to impress, others whispered sweet flattery to win deals or favors. But Dhwani? She was different. There was no performance. No act. Just... authenticity.

And strength.

The kind of strength that didn't shout.

As the city skyline raced by, Dharsh caught himself glancing at her. She was texting the ICU team, her brows furrowed just slightly. A lock of hair fell near her cheek. She tucked it back without thinking. Every gesture seemed practiced by routine, not vanity.

"I'll only be ten minutes once we get there," she said suddenly, sensing the silence might be uncomfortable. "You don't have to wait."

"I'll wait," he said, almost too quickly.

She turned her head slightly, surprised. "You don't have to-"

"I know."

Silence again.

But not cold this time.

Warm. Safe. Charged.

As they pulled up to the hospital gates, she gathered her things, ready to step out.

"Thanks again, Dharsh."

He looked at her then. Finally. Fully.

"No problem, Doctor."

Their eyes met for a second too long.

And in that second, Dharsh knew-this wasn't going to be the last time he saw her.

Even if he had to make sure of it himself.

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