Ayesha's POV

How the fuck did I not hear five alarms going off? My eyes landed on the girl on the bed beside mine, clutching my phone, mouth wide open, drooling in a deep sleep. I couldn't help but chuckle-it looked like she'd switched them off before I even had a chance to wake up.

I glanced at the wall clock. Holy fuck, we're going to be late.

"Ritika, wake up, we'll get late!" I shook her vigorously, shouting, but it was useless-she was out cold.

I didn't have the time or patience to be gentle, so I grabbed a glass of water and dumped it on her face. She shot up instantly, sputtering in shock.

"I'm sorry, I tried, but you were in pretty deep sleep. Let's go get fresh-we're late," I said hurriedly, pulling out my clothes.

She just hummed, gathered her stuff, and together we walked to the dorm's common washroom. It took us almost an hour to get ready since everyone was rushing. Somehow, we managed.

Quickly changing into our uniform tracksuits, we rushed to the dorm's canteen for a quick breakfast-otherwise, we might've thrown up.

Grabbing two slices of bread with butter each, we dashed out of the canteen straight to the training room assigned to us.

We were running down the corridor like idiots, but all we could think about was how ruthless our trainer was rumored to be with latecomers. And that was an experience we definitely didn't want.

But all that running was pointless-we were still five minutes late. Exchanging nervous looks, we knocked on the locked door.

At the faint "come in," we stepped inside, only to find every pair of eyes fixed on us. It felt like walking in as toddlers caught stealing chocolates.

Ritika was half-hiding behind me while our trainer still hadn't turned around.

The devil behind me nudged my elbow. I shot her a glare and shook my head.

She did it again, but this time-"Yes, what is it?" a deep voice cut through.

The voice. I knew I had heard it somewhere before.

Confused, I turned to look at the owner-and fuck. It was him, Zeeshan Kapoor.

Staring right into my soul.

And he was my trainer? I was doomed.

My eyes widened in recognition. His eyes flickered with amusement for a brief second, but he quickly masked it with a stern expression.

"We apologise for being late, sir. Can we join the class?" I asked, my voice firm.

"And if I may ask, miss, why are you both late?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes though his face remained unreadable.

"We couldn't find the training hall, sir," I replied, meeting his gaze.

"So how does that concern me?" he said, one perfect eyebrow arched.

"Sorry?" I asked, thrown off by his riddles.

"It means you and your friend cannot join the class. Next time, be on time." He walked towards us, his lips curving ever so slightly-almost unnoticeable.

"Why?" I snapped. He raised his eyebrow again. Can I shave his perfect eyebrow?

"Sir, she meant-we are sorry, we won't repeat it again. Please allow us," Ritika pleaded, finally speaking up.

"I'm pretty sure she didn't mean whatever you just said. Am I right, miss?" he asked, folding his hands across his chest as he stood in front of us. Ritika nudged me with a pleading look.

"I. DID." I gritted my teeth, glaring at him. The bastard was enjoying this.

"Both of you will stay back for two laps of this hall. Go and stand in whichever line you want." He turned and walked back to the podium.

I wanted to argue, but before I could, Ritika dragged me to the last line.

"Let's start," he said, his eyes locking on me. I rolled mine and gave him a sarcastic smile, which finally made him avert his gaze.

"Myself, Zeeshan Kapoor-your trainer, your instructor, your mentor for the next 42 weeks. I'll be in charge of giving you the training required to be a CBI officer. Today, we'll keep it light with a basic warm-up. He's Abhay Kumar-he'll be giving you a demo of the exercises. Any questions?" His tone was flat, monotone.

What's his use then?Just to smirk like an idiot?

"Let's start with five laps around the hall. GO!" he shouted, and just like that, the torture began.

After finishing the laps, we moved on to basic warm-ups and then a set of exercises to loosen up our bodies for the actual training.

Five hours of ruthless drills later-"DISMISSED," his deep voice echoed.

Taking a few sips of water, I walked out with everyone, desperate to get away from that asshole.

Ritika was nowhere in sight-typical, she must've fled the hall to dodge the so-called punishment.

"Stop right there," came his authoritative voice. A few people stopped with me. Why, you ask? I don't know.

"The rest of you, leave." Everyone else walked out, leaving me alone with him.

His footsteps echoed across the now-empty hall as he came to stand in front of me.

"No recognition?" he asked sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, holding back a retort.

"You wound me, sweetheart," he said, gasping dramatically.

"Can I leave?" I asked, ignoring his theatrics.

"Do you want me to remind you of the punishment I gave you and your little friend? It seems she ran away, leaving you behind. Alas, I think you should do it on her behalf. How about that?" he leaned closer, towering over me. I instinctively took a step back, and his smirk deepened.

"Hm? How about four laps, sweetheart?" he asked again, tilting his head slightly.

"Stop calling me that. Just because you're my senior here doesn't mean you can blabber whatever shit you feel like saying," I snapped, gritting my teeth. An amused smile appeared on his face.

"Oh, but unfortunately, I can, sweetheart." His amused smile only made my blood boil.

"Shut up and move aside. And why should I do the punishment? I was just five minutes late-and so was my friend," I said, locking my eyes with his.

"Oh really, sweetheart? How about I give you my kind of punishment? Something you'd love," he muttered, taking two steps closer until he was standing right in front of me.

I stepped back, desperate to put distance between us.

"Hm?" Another step.

"Stop right there. Don't try whatever you're trying, Zeeshan Kapoor," I warned firmly, though inside I was anything but calm.

"Okay, as you say, sweetheart. I forgive you and your little friend-being your acquaintance, or should I say, a very memorable acquaintance. This is the least I can do for you, isn't it?" he said, finally stepping back. I scoffed at his words.

"Move aside," I muttered. He raised his hands in mock surrender and moved aside.

I tried to walk past him, but before I knew it, I was dragged into his embrace, my hands twisted behind my back, my struggles restrained.

"WHY. ARE. YOU. HERE?" he demanded through gritted teeth. "Are you following me? Or are you here to try and make whatever this is... work? We agreed, right? We agreed to forget about that night. Then WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

"Leave my hand," I whispered. "You're hurting me."

He released me, and I snapped, stepping back, "I wish I'd known you'd be my trainer here. I would've chosen death a hundred times over before joining this damn training."

Without waiting for his response, I dashed out of that hall.

I hate him.

I hate that I'm connected to him.

I hate the fact that it's him.

And I damn well hate the fact that after everything that happened today-I still couldn't hate him.

Storming back to my dorm, I changed quickly and collapsed on my bed, closing my eyes. Ritika wasn't there.

My thoughts instantly drifted to that night. The night where it all started. The night I first met Zeeshan Kapoor.

With those thoughts haunting me, I didn't even realise when I drifted off-until Ritika shook me awake for dinner. She apologised for leaving me alone, but I brushed it off.

Together, we finished dinner and freshened up in the common washroom.

Later, I had my mandatory call with my family, updating them about my life-everything except Zeeshan Kapoor. Because he's a secret better kept hidden.