Trishika’s hands trembled as she tried to grab her phone from his grip, her forced smile barely holding up. "Sirr... itsssssss..." she dragged the word, stretching it as if buying herself time to come up with an excuse. But before she could finish, he effortlessly took the phone for himself, his actions smooth and confident, as if he had every right to do so.

Her phone—her personal, hard-earned possession—was right there, yet it slipped away so easily. He didn’t hesitate, slipping it into his pocket with a casual ease that made her breath hitch. Then, as if to seal his authority over it, he folded his arms across his chest, lifting a brow in amusement, his expression daring her to protest.