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“And they haven’t stopped dropping leaves and fruit into my pool ever since then.” Shaurya’s voice stayed measured, but his ticking jaw gave him away. “I’ve asked politely—”

“Politely?” Her grandfather scoffed. “You sent a legal notice!”

“After you ignored three verbal requests.”

“You know my late wife planted that tree!”

For a brief moment, something flickered in Shaurya’s eyes, like a crack in the corporate armour, but it vanished almost instantly. “I respect that, sir. But sentiment doesn’t change property laws.”

Grandpa muttered something under his breath, but it was loud enough to be heard.

“These new-money people. No respect for heritage. Everything must be neat and clean and soulless, like their glass towers.”

Nandini’s eyes flickered to Shaurya’s shoulders, which tensed ever so slightly before he relaxed them with visible effort.

Control. She realised everything about him screamed carefully maintained control. The man she’d seen earlier in the afternoon—shirtless, pushing himself to his limits, raw, powerful—was nowhere to be seen now. This Shaurya Ahuja looked like someone who fought for what he wanted.And won.

“This isn’t about heritage, Mr. Raichand. It’s about basic property rights. I paid a premium for a home with a privatepool, one that is constantly littered with leaves and rotting fruit,” he retorted. “If your sentimentality is more important than my right to a clean living space, then maybe I should start charging you for pool maintenance.”

Grandpa let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, so now you’ll be sending me bills for your pool? What’s next? A fine every time the wind blows in your direction?”

Shaurya’s expression darkened. “I’m only asking for a reasonable solution. Trim the branches that extend into my property. That’s all.”

Grandpa squared his shoulders stiffly. “And what if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll escalate this further… legally.” He tried to threaten. “And I guarantee, Mr. Raichand, you won’t like the outcome.”

Nandini felt a sudden protective flare rise in her chest. For the first time, she saw what her grandpa meant when he called Shaurya ruthless.

After a brief moment, Grandpa finally relented—kind of. “I’ll see what my gardener has to say about this and decide after that.” His tone made it clear that he wasn’t giving in, just agreeing for now while still holding his ground.

Shaurya nodded curtly before his gaze swept behind her grandfather and locked with Nandini’s. The moment his eyes met hers, a flicker of recognition passed through them. She saw the shift in his expression, the way his brows drew together slightly as if piecing together a puzzle he should have solved earlier.

Now he knew for sure that she wasn’t just some random stranger trespassing on the patio of his villa this morning, the one who had caught him mid push-up, shirtless and unaware. That she wasn’t just some curious onlooker but his neighbour.

More than that—she was Keshav Raichand’s granddaughter.

His lips pressed into a firm line, as if suppressing a reaction, but his eyes lingered for a second longer than necessary. And forone endless moment, she forgot how to breathe. Up close, his eyes weren’t just intense; they were downright magnetic.

He looked away first and strode toward his car where a driver was waiting for him. The steel and glass of his Audi mirrored his demeanour—sleek, expensive, and deliberately intimidating.

Grandpa let out a huff, turning back toward Nandini, shaking his head. “Did you see that, beta? This is how it always is. That man is—” He waved a dismissive hand in the air, grumbling, “These new rich people. They buy their way into old neighbourhoods and think they can erase all the history.”

Nandini linked her arm through his. “But seriously, Daadu… maybe we could trim the branches a little? Just enough to—”

“To give in?” He patted her hand. “Beta, some things are worth fighting for. Even small things.Especiallysmall things.”

With that, he turned and walked back inside.

Nandini turned and watched Shaurya drive away. She didn’t like the way he had spoken to her grandfather. If nothing else, he could have at least considered Grandpa’s age and lowered his voice. Instead, he had argued as if they were equals in a boardroom debate.

Probably her grandpa was right. They wouldn’t bend to his demands.

“Arrogant,” Nandini muttered under her breath, “But... oh, so handsome.”

She bit her lip, watching his car disappear through the gates, and added begrudgingly, “It’s so unfair. Gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to come in the same package as insufferable.”

“Don’t waste your thoughts, beti,” Lakshmi Aunty’s voice made her jump. “That one’s still bleeding from a divorce.”