My gaze snaps to Dev. “You what?”
He shrugs. “I always want the best.”
Samarth steps forward, his jaw tightening. “Sir, if you want, I can take the interview instead—”
“No, Samarth.” Mr. Keshav looks at him. “I need you in my office. Right now. There’s something important we need to discuss.”
Without waiting for a response, he then turns around and walks out, closing the door behind him.
Samarth’s eyes flick to Dev. “What are you trying to pull here?”
“I am not answerable to you!” Dev replies, his eyes darkening as he glares at Samarth. “So stop asking questions and know your place!”
“Then stay out of her way, Mr. Rathore,” Samarth fires back, not backing down.
“If she wants me out of her way, let her say it herself. Why are you being her mouthpiece?” Dev shifts his gaze to me. “Do you want me out of your way, sweetheart?”
But before I can answer the asshole, Samarth cuts in sharply, his nostrils flaring at the endearment. “Meera, you don’t have to entertain his absurd question.”
Dev’s eyes flick back to him, clearly irritated. “You really are an annoying jerk. But for once, can you stop playing this macho man and not shut her down? Instead, let her vent whatever emotions she has for me.”
“I think it’s better if you leave,” Samarth grits out.
Dev lifts his brows. “Well, if I leave, I am pretty sure Mr. Keshav won’t be happy. In fact, he might just kickyouout of your job.”
Samarth takes a step forward, but I quickly move between them.
“Samarth, I can handle this.” I look over my shoulder at Samarth.
“You heard her. She can handle me,” Dev pokes lazily, and Samarth’s muscles tense. But before he can say anything, his phone beeps with a message. He looks down, exhales hard, and then meets my gaze again.
“Meera, I need to be in Mr. Keshav’s office. Call me if he’s too much to deal with.” His eyes flick to Dev, full of warning, before he finally leaves.
The moment the door shuts, I glare at Dev, who grins back at me.
“I am confident you can deal with me without needing to call that idiot.”
“If you’re done with your nonsense, can we start the interview?” I ask, paying no heed to his remark.
“Sure… but before that, I want to askyousomething.”
He leans against my desk, looking entirely too comfortable. “Do you always look this hot when you’re angry?”
“You are truly disgusting.”
“Relax.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, don’t answer that. Tell me this instead. Why do you hate me so much?”
I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re seriously asking me this?”
“Yes.” He shrugs. “Because I honestly don’t get it? I am rich, handsome, and hot.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but some people actually value personality over looks. And you clearly don’t have much of it.”
I try to walk to the door, but his hand shoots out and grabs my arm, pulling me back towards him. His eyes lock onto mine.
“I want to hate you,” he growls, his grip tightening. “I fucking should. But the way you challenge me, the way you don’t fear me, the way you fight back… it makes me lose my damn mind.”
My pulse spikes, but I don’t show it. And before I can give him a piece of my mind, my phone beeps.
