adhitiaravind92

Hello, reader friends,
Objection: MY LOVE is preparing to enter the courtroom. Before the gavel strikes, consider this a confidential file—meant to be read quietly, and felt deeply.
Some stories don’t begin with love.
They begin with restraint.
With control stretched thin.
With the dangerous knowledge that it’s only a matter of time before it breaks.

PROLOGUE

A solitaire slid onto a slender finger, as cheers rose in chorus around. The bride-to-be beamed ear to ear before sealing the moment with a kiss to her handsome fiancé — a promise etched in diamonds and devotion. The celebration unfolded on the sands of Maldives, intimate yet dazzling, with only family and close friends in attendance.

Joining the jubilant crowd, Dev Arora brought his palms together in a languid applause, his lips carrying the ghost of his trademark lazy smirk, playing at the edges. The radiant woman on stage was his dearest cousin and he was here to honour her joy. But his razor sharp focus wasn’t steadfast on the spectacle unfolding. Tonight, distraction had a hold on him but he wasn’t letting it on.

When the music swelled and the dance floor burst to life, Dev drifted away with deliberate ease, towards the bar tucked on the side. The waves thundered against the shore, as though competing with the beats but the musical notes scaled higher.

Perched at the counter, he watched the foamy crescendos crashing one after the other onto the slippery shore, with his drink in his hand. Cases paraded through his thoughts, but one loomed larger than the rest. The impossible one. It was refusing to bend to his will in court and that was starting to gnaw at him. For he has not tasted failure’s sting, ever.

Slicing through his cherished solitude, came a voice like liquid silk.

“Bored to death yet, Mr.Arora?”

Dev flipped his head around and in a single heartbeat, the noise in his head hushed.

Before him stood a vision swathed in roseberry pink — a corset sheath that clung to sculpted curves, dusky skin glimmering under the fairy lights, and an arresting face – a beauty that was born out of the fabric of fantasies.

Exquisite. His head and heart whispered in unison.

He pivoted smoothly to face her, voice dropping into a husky drawl.

“Not anymore, not if I’m blessed with some quality company.”

She placed her glass on the counter and leaned forward, forearms resting with casual grace.

“Define quality,” she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Dev leaned back in his stool, studying her with sharp eyes softened by a smile.

“I accept beauty in all packages. Just sprinkle in a spoonful of humour to the lingo and you have the perfect recipe,” he intoned with lazy ease.

An impish gleam entered her dark gaze as she implored, “What if the recipe comes with a pinch of flirting?”

His brow arched, a grin unfurling slow and deliberate.

“I dig spicy.”

She was unhinged as she spoke, “What’s your preference, vegetarian or…,” her smile, wickedly playful, enhanced her face card.

Dev’s laughter burst free, unrestrained and genuine. She leaned into the moment with him, sharing a laugh that drew curious glances from across the bar.

“Now that,” he said, sobering with a smirk, “is a good start. But tell me — what exactly am I up against? Is this an ambush of beauty with brains that my mother has secretly curated?”

“A rishta?” She clucked her tongue, feigning a shudder. “Not at all. I’m just taking a bite of my favourite snack since the opportunity presented itself.”

His eyes widened, amused. “Are you always this….bindass while flirting.”

“I’m fun in more ways than you can imagine,” she sipped her drink slowly, lips curling around the rim with that declaration.

Dev’s gaze lingered on her a fraction too long, until something tugged at the edges of his memory. “Wait….you look familiar..”

Her smirk deepened, “Shouldn’t that be my line? Between the two of us you are the celebrated attorney of the hour.”

He frowned faintly, his mind in overdrive, trying to figure out the familiarity.

She delivered the reveal with casual flair, “You are familiar with the branding ….my father goes by the name Sujoy Kapoor.”

The coin dropped for Dev as he recognised the girl before him as Jia Kapoor. Eminent lawyer Sujoy Kapoor’s daughter who was also rapidly fetching a name for herself in the legal circles.

Dev’s lips parted in a slow, conceding smile as he offered his hand.

“Ah I should have caught on sooner. Heard plenty about your courtroom shenanigans. Guess the face hasn’t registered yet, my bad.”

“That’s okay, it will register when I defeat you in court one day,” she deadpanned, clinking her glass to his.

Dev blinked, momentarily robbed of words, before recovering with a sly grin.

“Why do we need to circle down on a courtroom when we can have far better settings ….to spar.”

She tilted her head, tracing a circle along her glass rim.

“Like?”

He stretched an arm toward the dance floor, where the crowd swayed under fairy lights.

“Like that. We can showcase our moves, test each other’s rhythm. After all, someday we might face off in court — knowing each other’s beats will always come in handy,” he finished with a wink.

“That wouldn’t be a problem,” she quipped, her voice velvety. “I’m already thorough with you. You’ve been my thesis for quite some time.”

Dev felt the heat crawl up his neck, betraying him.

God the girl was good.

“Then let this novice study his subject up close,” he murmured, impatient now, even as he batted for a playful tone. “I’d hate to miss even a detail of this… fascinating class.”

The night stretched before them, electric with desire. Jia was challenging him with a game of desire, one that she played without restraint and Dev was restless, to meet her in the space where banter blurred into temptation. Where this dangerous alchemy would lead – the night alone knew.

****

The dance was, as expected, unapologetically sensual. It began with an elegant intimacy – his palms anchoring her waist, her soft hands resting against the strength of his arms and their eyes, desire-laced, pinned on each other. The slow waltz unfolded in sleek touches and tangled gazes. But as the tempo surged, so did the hunger. The distance between them collapsed with brazen intent. Each dip he orchestrated spoke in the language of possession; every rise a whispered claim. Each twirl spun a promise — seduction held at bay, waiting to ignite.

Her breath hitched, betraying the sharp pang of want racing through her. Dev caught it, proud of the blaze he’d kindled in her dark pools.

They both made quite the picture as their bodies flowed in tandem across the crowded floor with fluid ease. The beats were fast and their movements quicker. Yet it wasn’t the choreography that bewitched the crowd — it was their eyes. Eyes that clashed like dueling blades, beaconed with unmasked passion, teased with unrelenting abandon.

Dev bent close, voice brushing her ear like silk.

“Are you having me under a spell, Jia Kapoor,” he murmured as he spun her, slow and deliberate.

Her lips curved, a glint of mischief flashing.

“If that’s what you think it is,” she halted mid-step, clucking her tongue, “then it’s time we changed the tune.”

Before he could protest, she pulled him away from the floor — away from the one arena where he had her under his command. Dev swallowed the groan that burned in his throat, but his eyes promised: the night was still young.

***

The sea welcomed them with a hush. Jia and Dev walked through the gushing waves with unhurried grace. The hem of her gown kissing the silver-crested ripples, darkening as the tide claimed it. Dev’s trousers were rolled to his knees, revealing calves flecked with seawater. Their sandals sat abandoned on the sand, while their footprints had little time to impress the sand grains vanishing almost as quickly as they were made.

The moonlight poured over them, casting an added allure upon Jia’s face. The breeze teased her hair loose, stubbornly freeing tendrils from their hold. Her graceful glide – one that he paralleled – lulled him into a haze of want. Dev was, in that moment, utterly spellbound.

She sensed his stare before she caught it—Dev’s gaze, unwavering, already anchored to her.

“What’s going on in that head up there,” she asked, her voice lilting.

Dev’s lips twitched, “Nothing you’d want to know.”

Gaze playful, she asked, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Throwing up his hands in mock defeat, he exclaimed, “I have no defense, Your Honour. None against you.”

She laughed, a melodious tilt to her voice.He found himself wanting to hear it again, and again.

“What’s your angle, Dev Arora,” she asked, her voice a mere whisper, the question threading softly through the sea’s murmur.

He deflected neatly, tossing the tough answer her way.

“Anything you proposition.”

“Aren’t we going a bit…I don’t know, fast track,” she asked, uncertain.

“Pace is a choice,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers, dark and blazing. “The real question is — what do we want?”

The answer hung in the silence between them, unspoken yet undeniable. From the very first glance, attraction had been their constant. But this—this was no ordinary spark. The chemistry that stoked between them was too potent to ignore. The air around them refused to relent; urging them closer, daring them to surrender. With each passing second, reason was ebbing; impulsiveness was winning.

Against her better judgement, Jia inched closer. A measure of a feat that set Dev’s heart racing. Rising to her tiptoes, she leaned into him. His body answered instantly, arms sliding around her with possessive ease. Her breath skimmed hot across his skin, and his grip tightened, unwilling to let her slip away. She had been a storm in his head since their eyes locked, and Dev knew he couldn’t walk away without claiming a sliver of it.

For Jia, it was a surreal surrender. The man she had obsessed over — studied, admired, wanted — the iron grip of discipline he carried so proudly was crumbling in her wake. Dev Arora, the only counsel of his generation to trump her father in court — not once, but repeatedly, with style and swagger — had fascinated her for years. What began as obsession had matured into something deeper, something more dangerous. And now, here she was, on the threshold of maddening ecstasy she had only imagined. It was reckless. It was perilous. But she made the quick decision, muting the whisper of doubt in her head—because some temptations are worth the ruin.

“You really do this well,” she murmured against his lips —and then her mouth claimed his.

A slow, deliberate kiss. One that would ignite an inferno within him but do nothing to calm its raging flames. Temptation was her game, as her lips moved over his, in featherlike brushes, refusing him the lead he was fighting for. He tried, desperate, for the warm folds of her ravenous mouth to yield to his passionate yearnings. Expert strokes of his tongue that had his usual women folk melting was no game here. He had to earn her surrender and she was going to make him work hard for the prize.

“You.are.a.very.bad.girl,” he enunciated each word with dark hunger, his fingers digging into her waist.

“How bad exactly are we talking about,” she asked in a sexy drawl.

His eyes narrowed with a devilish glint, “the kind that are made for my den.”

Her lips curved into a slow, knowing chuckle before she pulled back, putting just enough distance between them to tease. Their eyes held, a smoldering storm between them. Then she turned and led the way, away from the roaring sea toward the quiet comfort of the wooden cabins that stood aside, one of which he called his own. Dev’s gaze lingered on the sway of her retreating form, his expression one of restrained hunger, before his feet obeyed. His steps were measured, but his gait betrayed the eagerness that surged within him.

This was only the opening argument.
The rest of Dev and Jia’s case unfolds in Objection: MY LOVE—now open for pre-order.

Link: https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0GF6K3JP3