The campus of St. Augustine High, New York was nothing less than a palace for the privileged. Expensive cars lined the gates, groups of students gathered with their Starbucks cups, their laughter echoing across the polished courtyard. Here, status wasn’t earned with grades—it was inherited with surnames.

Aarika Agnivanshi stepped out of a sleek black sedan, her heels clicking against the stone path. Heads turned almost instinctively. It wasn’t just her beauty—sharp eyes, perfectly styled dark hair, and the aura of someone who wasn’t afraid of anyone—it was her presence. She walked like she owned the ground beneath her feet.

“Look, it’s her again,” a girl whispered to her friend.
“The mafia princess,” the other muttered, almost afraid Aarika would hear.

Aarika did hear. She always did. But she didn’t flinch. Instead, she smirked, tossing her hair back as she strode through the courtyard. Fear and fascination—it was the reaction she had grown used to.

Inside the main hallway, a different kind of attention brewed.

Vihaan Rajvansh leaned lazily against the railing, a group of friends surrounding him. His laughter was careless, loud, the kind that demanded attention. Dark eyes glinted with arrogance, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to show off the ink on his wrist. Girls stole glances at him, boys envied the ease with which he commanded the crowd.

“Rajvansh never fails to steal the spotlight,” one of the juniors whispered.

Vihaan’s gaze shifted, almost bored—until it landed on her.

Aarika.

She wasn’t smiling. Neither was he. For a moment, the hallway fell away, the chatter dimmed, and only their locked eyes remained. Fire meeting storm.

By the time the bell rang, their silent duel had already begun.

The Classroom

The economics class buzzed with chatter until the professor arrived. Aarika chose a seat near the window, flipping her notebook open with practiced ease. Vihaan, however, dropped his bag deliberately on the desk right behind her.

Throughout the lecture, she could feel his stare burning into the back of her head. When the professor asked a question, Aarika’s hand shot up, confident as ever.

“Inflation is not always harmful,” she began, her voice steady. “In controlled limits, it pushes growth.”

“Well said, Miss Agnivanshi,” the professor nodded.

“Unless,” Vihaan’s voice cut through the silence, smooth but mocking, “someone mistakes arrogance for knowledge.”

The class chuckled. Aarika turned slowly, her gaze locking with his.
“Better arrogant than ignorant, Mr whatever you're .”

The room erupted with laughter, but this time, at him.

A flicker of something dangerous passed through his eyes. Embarrassment. Rage. Obsession. Aarika’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk before she faced forward again, unbothered.

Vihaan leaned closer, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
“You’ll regret this.”

Aarika didn’t turn, but her answer was sharp as a blade.
“I don’t regret winning.”

Aftermath

That single exchange was enough. The Rajvansh ego had been bruised. And Vihaan Rajvansh wasn’t someone who forgot—or forgave.

As the bell rang and the class spilled into the hallway, he remained seated, his fists tightening. Watching her walk away, her laughter mixing with her friends’, he whispered to himself:

“Aarika Agnivanshi… you just wrote your own doom.”

It wasn’t love that began that day.
It wasn’t even hatred.
It was venom—poison that would grow darker, stronger, deadlier with every heartbeat.

And neither of them knew, seven years later, that venom would return… to consume them both.

A shadow loomed across her table. Aarika pulled her headphones down, eyes narrowing as she looked up. Standing there was a tall boy with jet-black hair that curled slightly over his forehead, his eyes carrying that unsettling mix of arrogance and challenge it is Vihaan.

Vihaan:
“Classroom me jo attitude dikhaya na… better keep it in check. Mujhse panga lena tumhe mehenga pad sakta hai.”

Aarika blinked once, slowly, then smirked. Setting her juice down, she tilted her head and met his stare with one of her own.

Aarika (calm but savage):
“Warning dete ho ya threaten karte ho? Kyunki main dono hi ignore karna jaanti hoon.
Btw—” she raised her chin, her tone almost mocking,
“—I’m Aarika Agnivanshi. From India. Dehradun. Aur main yaha studies ke liye hoon, kisi ke gusse ke class attend karne nahi.”

A pause. Then, with a small laugh, she added,
“Wbu, Mister Whatever?”

Vihaan’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The kind of smile that carried danger, like the calm before a storm. He placed a hand on the table, his fingers drumming lightly, claiming space as though it belonged to him.

Vihaan (dark amusement):
“Nice attitude… par ye mere aage zyada din tikne wala nahi. Naam yaad rakhna—Vihaan Rajvansh. From India. Dehradun. Aur believe me…”
He leaned a little closer, his voice a whisper only she could hear.
“…ab tum mujhe ignore nahi kar paogi.”

Author POV: Hi everyone maybe you all liked today's part if yes so show some love and from tomorrow onwards I'll show the scene from Vihaan and Aarika's class 11th
Thank you....
Until then

Stay Tuned....