Page 1 of When Love Trespassed

Gated Villa Community: Serene Meadows (Delhi)

Shaurya Ahuja had never stormed away from a party before. He wasn’t the kind of man who let emotions dictate his actions. Composed, controlled, and calculated—that was how he functioned. But tonight? Tonight was different.

All thanks to one man. Keshav Raichand.

Or as everyone here affectionately called him—Grandpa.

Shaurya scoffed at the irony. The elderly man was adored by the entire community, worshipping him like a wise sage with endless stories and old-world charm. But for Shaurya, he was the one persistent thorn in his otherwise meticulously organised life.

And tonight, Grandpa Keshav had gone too far, crossing an invisible line.

Standing before an audience at the Serene Meadows Clubhouse, the centre of the community’s New Year celebration, the old man had looked Shaurya dead in the eye and declared, “A man like you can never understand love. That’s why your wife left you.”

Laughter had filled the space. Some awkward, some nervous, some outright amused, but Shaurya had only heard the weight of the insult—the cruel, deliberate jab at the one thing he never let anyone discuss. His divorce.

He remembered the humiliation, the betrayal and the sleepless nights spent drowning in anger. It had taken him months to push it all into a locked box inside his mind.

And yet, one sentence from a 75-year-old man had clicked open the lock in seconds.

His fists clenched at his sides as he reached his villa—a sleek, modern structure of clean-cut lines and glass, devoid of unnecessary sentimentality. In short, his villa was a reflection of himself. He pushed open the door only to realise it was already unlocked. Strange.

Had he forgotten to lock the door before leaving?

He vaguely recalled being distracted by a phone call from Varun, his closest friend, who had insisted on sending a blind date to his house tonight.

Shaurya had firmly forbidden it, nipping the idea in the bud itself.

He wasn’t interested in forced socialising, let alone dating. Not after everything he’d been through.

Frowning, he stepped inside his home. The moment he did, the lights flickered once before going out, plunging the house and the entire Serene Meadows into complete darkness.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. This was just what he needed. He wanted to forget everything. All he needed now was a drink and some peace before the year ended and the new year began.

Sighing, Shaurya loosened his tie and tossed it onto the console table. Just as he reached for the top button of his shirt, he felt it.

Something was off.

The room wasn’t empty.

His gaze flicked to the darkened corners of the villa, his senses attuned to the subtle shift in the air.

And then… he saw her .

A silhouette, faintly illuminated by the streetlights, filtered through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. A woman sat perched on his dining table, legs elegantly crossed, looking completely at ease in his home.

His irritation spiked.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, stepping forward.

Varun! That foolish man had done it. He had sent the damn blind date despite Shaurya’s clear refusal.

He was about to send her away, to tell her she was wasting her time when Grandpa Keshav’s words came rushing back like a slap to his already wounded pride.

“No woman would ever fall in love with a man like you.”

Shaurya had spent months convincing himself that the past didn’t define him, that his divorce was nothing more than a closed chapter in his life. But the truth was, it wasn’t just Grandpa Keshav’s taunt that stung, it was the fear buried beneath it.

What if the old man was right?

What if he really was incapable of being loved?

The thought festered, twisting something dark inside him.

No. He wasn’t that man. He refused to be.

He could move on. He would prove it to himself and to the world that he was ready to let go.

And right now, there was a woman sitting in front of him. A woman who, for some unfathomable reason, had chosen to be here tonight, waiting for him.

Something snapped inside him. Something reckless and desperate. And without thinking, without pausing, he closed the distance between them, grabbed her face and kissed her.

It wasn’t just about silencing Grandpa Keshav’s voice in his head—it was about reclaiming a part of himself that he had knowingly tucked away, bruised and buried for far too long. About proving that he wasn’t broken beyond repair.

But the moment their lips met, he knew it. This was a mistake.

A reckless, stupid, catastrophic mistake.

Who kisses his blind date at the first meeting? Without even sharing pleasantries?

And yet… he couldn’t stop.

Because the moment she gasped against his mouth, the moment her fingers fisted into his shirt instead of pushing him away—he was lost.

Her scent, warm and intoxicating, filled his senses. Jasmine and vanilla. The kind of scent that crept under your skin and refused to leave.

That scent… It wasn’t just pleasant—it was familiar.

But he shoved that thought down, refusing to let it ruin this moment.

This was about taking back control, about proving something to himself.

Not about getting lost in pointless distractions.

His hands tightened around her waist, drawing her closer.

Her legs, once elegantly crossed, loosened, parting slightly as he stepped between them, deepening the kiss.

She gasped softly against his mouth, and a strangled sound escaped him in response—because that , too, was familiar.

A warning bell rang in his head, but he ignored it. Again. For a man who lived his life meticulously in control, this moment was chaos incarnate.

And for the first time in a long time… he let himself get lost in it.

Then…Boom.

Fireworks erupted outside, cheers ringing in the New Year. The sudden burst of light from the windows flooded the room, breaking the moment. As their lips parted, he pulled back from her, his dazed mind scrambling for clarity.

Realisation slammed into him like a thunderclap as his gaze locked onto her wide, startled eyes. Those familiar doe eyes.

No. No. No.

First shock hit him hard, then rage.

Because standing before him, flushed and just kissed, was not his blind date.

It was Nandini Raichand .

Grandpa Keshav’s granddaughter.

The last woman he had expected to be lurking around in his house tonight. And yet, he had just devoured her mouth like a man starved.

F*ck!

“You?” he blurted out in pure disbelief.

Nandini gasped, scrambling off the table, her own expression mirroring his horror.

A suffocating silence stretched between them, a stark contrast to the outside world, where people were celebrating the new year, and fireworks painted the sky in bursts of gold and crimson.

But inside this room, inside him , an entirely different explosion had just ignited. His blood burned. Because not only had he kissed the one woman he should have never touched…

But because he had wanted her.

And that enraged him the most.