AANYA’S POV

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, harsh and golden, making her squint. Aanya groaned, hugging her pillow like it could shield her from the responsibilities of the day. Her phone lay on the bedside table, innocuous and silent… for now. She knew it wouldn’t stay that way.

Her eyes fluttered open just enough to check the time. Too late. Already late. The city outside had come alive with its usual symphony—car horns, the distant wail of a street vendor, a neighbor yelling at a dog. Somewhere beneath the chaos, her aunt was probably plotting breakfast logistics like a military operation.

Aanya rolled out of bed, feet hitting the cold floor. She grabbed her phone. Unsurprisingly, it buzzed almost immediately.

A. Good morning, night owl. Ready for another day of chaos?

Aanya smirked despite herself. Across oceans, someone who didn’t know her, didn’t even know her face, somehow managed to make her mornings feel… lighter.

Aanya: Barely. Soul negotiates delayed awakening. Coffee required. Chaos unavoidable.

She rolled her eyes at the melodrama but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. The words felt safe, comforting—a tether to someone she’d never met but who already seemed intimately tied to her mornings.

Downstairs, the usual breakfast war had already begun. Plates clattered, her younger cousins shrieked over who got the last paratha, and her mother’s sharp voice cut through the chaos like a sword. Aanya typed quickly, fingers moving almost subconsciously:

Aanya: Breakfast war imminent. Pray for human survival.

Almost immediately, her phone buzzed again.

A. Prayers sent. Also, if anyone tries to attack you, I’ll send backup.

Aanya rolled her eyes and laughed quietly. Backup across oceans. Somehow, that felt… grounding. Comforting in a way she couldn’t explain.

She navigated the chaos of breakfast like a seasoned battlefield strategist. Her mother was orchestrating it with the precision of a general; her cousins were running amok, spilling milk and snatching last pieces of bread. Aanya grabbed a cup of coffee, savoring the bitter warmth as if it were armor against the day.

Her phone buzzed again, and her heart skipped.

A. We should steal a quiet moment today. Just a tiny one.

Aanya bit her lip, a blush creeping up her neck. A tiny moment. Just like last night. The thought made her chest warm and her fingers tingle.

Aanya: I think I can manage that… if I’m careful.

She hit send and then turned to face the chaos of her family with renewed determination. That little “tiny moment” waiting for her later felt like a secret treasure, a stolen bubble of calm amidst the storm.

Her thoughts drifted as she poured cereal into a bowl. She imagined Adrian on a balcony somewhere in Valeria, golden sunlight catching his hair, the city sprawling beneath him. Was he thinking of her right now? Or was this just words exchanged across continents, fragile and fleeting?

Aanya’s inner voice scolded her: Stop. You barely know him. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

But her heart refused to listen. It fluttered at every ping, every message, every word he had typed over the past days. There was something about him… distant, teasing, protective. Somehow, he had carved out a space in her mornings, her thoughts, her chest.

By the time she finished breakfast—victorious in the small skirmish that was surviving her family’s chaos—Aanya felt slightly lighter. The day still awaited, full of meetings, emails, and errands, but the tiny tether across oceans reminded her that there was someone else out there, thinking of her, teasing her, and somehow… making the world feel just a little less heavy.

She glanced at her phone once more. A small smile tugged at her lips.

Aanya: Let’s see what chaos we can steal today.

And somewhere across the ocean, Adrian would be smiling at her words, unaware of just how much he had already become part of her mornings, her thoughts, and her heart.

ADRIAN’S POV

The palace corridors were alive with the muted shuffle of attendants, the faint clinking of tea cups, and the low murmur of noble discussions. Adrian moved through it all with his usual calm composure, but inside, his mind was anything but calm. Every detail, every movement, every fleeting thought led back to her—Aanya, the girl half a world away, whose messages had become the pulse of his days.

He stopped briefly near a sunlit balcony overlooking the palace gardens. The warm golden light caught his hair, but he barely noticed. His attention was glued to the small rectangle of light in his hand—his phone. Her last message had been simple, teasing, innocent… and it had pulled at something deep within him.

A. I think I can manage that… if I’m careful.

Adrian let out a quiet laugh, though it was tinged with tension. Careful. She had no idea how careful she needed to be. In her world, the chaos she faced was mundane. In his, chaos carried weight—danger, duty, intrigue. And yet, he wanted to bridge that gap. He wanted to cross oceans, barriers, and walls just to ensure her safety… and perhaps to feel closer to her himself.

He leaned against the marble railing, fingers brushing the smooth stone as his mind raced. Protecting her meant more than keeping her physically safe. It meant keeping her untainted by the world he inhabited—the world of Valerian politics, palace intrigue, and shadows that lingered even in daylight. But every time he read her words, every little bubble of humor, warmth, or vulnerability she sent, the protective barrier he had built around himself cracked just a little more.

Adrian’s chest tightened. He imagined her, sitting in her office or apartment in India, hair falling loosely across her face, cheeks flushed from a private smile, eyes bright as she read his messages. She trusted him—even though she barely knew him. That thought made him both ache and tremble. She shouldn’t have that power over him… and yet, she already did.

He typed carefully, deleted, typed again. The phrasing mattered. He had to balance teasing, warmth, and protection without overwhelming her. He couldn’t reveal too much. She didn’t know who he truly was. She didn’t know the life, the duty, the danger that came with his name. And yet, the pull to share, to reach out, to bridge the distance, was intoxicating.

A. One day, I’ll see if your bravery matches your words.

He paused, letting the words linger in his mind. Bravery. That was exactly what she had—little victories of humor, sarcasm, and subtle defiance woven through her messages. And it was maddeningly attractive.

He typed again, letting himself be slightly bolder:

A. Until then… we steal our moments.

A quiet laugh escaped him, almost lost in the warm midday air. For a fleeting instant, the palace, the city, the oceans between them—all of it vanished. It was just the two of them, connected through tiny lights and invisible threads, sharing a secret that felt theirs alone.

But reality reasserted itself quickly. The palace demanded attention, duties loomed, and Lucian’s subtle watchfulness reminded him that his private thoughts weren’t as private as he liked. Protecting her meant discretion, and the closer he felt, the sharper the tension between desire and duty became.

Adrian exhaled slowly, pressing his phone against his chest for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. One day, he told himself, he would see her. One day, he would bridge the gap. For now, he would observe, protect, and wait. Every message, every stolen moment, every flutter of her trust was a thread he could not sever—even if it tangled him further into a web of longing he wasn’t ready to confront.

He turned back toward the council chambers, shoulders squared, mask of composure in place. Yet his heart, unpredictable and rebellious, remained half in India, tethered to a girl who didn’t even know he existed in full. And somewhere deep down, he knew… the tether was already unbreakable.

AANYA’S POV

The afternoon sun streamed through the office window, casting a harsh glare across her desk. Papers, reports, and half-empty coffee cups were strewn around her like the aftermath of a mild storm. Aanya rubbed her temples, wincing at the sharp hum of the air conditioner battling the heat outside. The office had quieted down compared to the morning, but the chaos had merely changed shape—it had become a blur of deadlines, urgent emails, and colleagues hovering just a little too close for comfort.

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it quickly, heart skipping in anticipation even though she knew exactly who it was.

A. Do you survive the battlefield unscathed?

Aanya smiled faintly, rolling her eyes. Battlefield—it was exactly how it felt.

Aanya: Barely. Coffee is my only weapon, sarcasm my shield.

She tapped send, then leaned back in her chair, letting herself savor the tiny thrill of connection. Across oceans, someone was thinking of her, teasing her, caring for her in ways she couldn’t explain. The thought made her chest flutter, heat creeping to her cheeks despite the room’s air-conditioning.

Her mind drifted. She imagined him pacing a balcony in Valeria, golden sunlight glinting off the city below, hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly perfect. Was he thinking of her? Did he smile when he read her messages? Aanya shook her head at herself. Stop. He’s just words on a screen. He’s… unreachable.

And yet, the flutter wouldn’t leave.

A new email popped up, demanding her immediate attention. She groaned, fingers flying across the keyboard. She replied, forwarded, cc’d, and navigated the digital minefield with practiced precision. And all the while, her mind kept wandering, her thoughts drifting to Adrian’s messages. Tiny stolen moments, quiet escapes… words that make my chest ache for no reason.

She sipped her coffee, letting it warm her hands, then looked around the office. Her colleagues were busy in their own worlds, unaware of the tiny storm brewing in her heart. She typed another message to him, hesitating just long enough to feel her pulse quicken.

Aanya: And that someone honest, you think… might be me?

Her thumb hovered over the send button, her heart racing. Too forward? Maybe. But she pressed send anyway, the thrill of vulnerability making her stomach flip.

Almost immediately, her phone vibrated.

A. Yes. Maybe it’s you.

Aanya blinked, staring at the screen. Maybe. Him saying maybe made the world shrink around her desk, her keyboard, the hum of the office. It was just her and him, across oceans, and in that moment, it felt dangerously intimate.

She laughed softly, the sound lost amidst the low chatter of coworkers. She leaned back in her chair, fingers tracing the edge of her coffee cup, imagining what it would be like if he were here—if she could steal just a moment from her own chaotic li-fe to share with him. The thought made her chest ache in ways she didn’t fully understand.

Aanya: Then let’s steal it. Just for today.

She pressed send, and almost immediately felt a wave of satisfaction and daring. Her tiny act of rebellion—stealing a quiet moment across continents—was thrilling, and terrifying, and undeniably addictive.

For the rest of the afternoon, the workday blurred. Spreadsheets, emails, and phone calls were accompanied by the quiet excitement of anticipation. Every buzz from her phone made her heart stutter, and every reply from Adrian was a small gift, a reminder that someone out there saw her in ways no one else did.

By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Aanya felt a rare sense of calm. Chaos always returned—but for now, for these fleeting moments, she had stolen something of her own. A thread connecting her to someone who existed across oceans, someone who could make the world feel softer, warmer, and infinitely more thrilling.

She leaned back in her chair, phone tucked close, and whispered to herself:

Tomorrow the chaos returns… but today, I stole this.

And across the ocean, Adrian would be doing the same—holding onto their fragile connection, thinking of her, protecting her, and slowly, impossibly, becoming tangled in her world.

ADRIAN’S POV

The afternoon sun poured into the palace courtyard, reflecting off the marble floors in a golden shimmer, but Adrian barely noticed. He moved with the composure of a prince attending to minor duties, yet every step, every glance, every carefully measured breath carried the weight of his distraction.

His mind wasn’t in the palace. It was in a small apartment halfway across the world, in India, on the other side of countless oceans. On her side of the world, she probably sat at her desk, fending off chaos with a cup of coffee and a sharp wit. And Adrian… Adrian felt a strange, consuming need to be there, to see her, to protect her—even from the trivial dangers of a spilled coffee cup or a misfired email.

He paused near a sunlit balcony overlooking the gardens. His phone rested in his hand, screen lit with her messages, small bursts of light that carried more weight than the entire Valerian treasury. He read her last words again:

A. Then let’s steal it. Just for today.

Adrian’s chest tightened. Just for today. How ordinary, how casual, yet how devastatingly intimate it felt. Across continents, she was entrusting him with her time, her fleeting moments of peace—and he couldn’t stop thinking about crossing oceans to make her real, tangible, safe.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration coiling in his chest. The rational part of him—the prince, the man burdened with duty—warned against indulgence. She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know the life I lead, the responsibilities I carry, the dangers that lurk in shadows even in daylight. Letting her into my world… letting her touch my heart… could destroy her.

Yet, every time he read her words, every hint of humor, every small confession hidden in her casual phrasing, he felt the pull of something entirely irresistible. His protective instincts surged, tangled with a dangerous fascination. He wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh, witness the quirks and chaos that made her human, alive.

Adrian leaned against the balcony railing, eyes scanning the gardens below, pretending to observe the courtiers and servants while his mind raced. He imagined her: small gestures of concentration as she worked, hair falling across her forehead, the faintest blush creeping across her cheeks when a message made her heart stutter. She’s so small, so fragile, yet so fearless… and she doesn’t even know the danger that waits for her.

He typed, then deleted, then typed again. The words had to be perfect—teasing, protective, careful. Don’t scare her. Don’t overwhelm her. Protect. Observe. Wait. Every message was a test, a way to measure the distance between them, a way to hold her close without letting her step into the storm that was his life.

A. If I could hold a moment in my hands right now… it would be this one. Quiet. Yours. Mine. Just like this.

Adrian exhaled sharply, a rare shiver running through him. Mine. Just like this. She had no idea the weight those words carried for him. They were fragile, fleeting, and impossible to hold—yet he would cross oceans, navigate palace intrigue, and defy duty itself if it meant keeping her safe, keeping this moment theirs.

His thumb hovered over the screen. He wanted to say so much—protect her, tease her, claim her somehow without letting her see the danger he carried—but he could only offer words small enough to carry hope, safe enough to let her smile.

A. Then let’s steal it. Just for today.

A quiet laugh escaped him, low and almost inaudible in the stillness of the palace. The world beyond this balcony—the council chambers, the nobles, the endless expectations—didn’t exist. Here, now, it was just him and the tether between two hearts across oceans, fragile, electrifying, and impossible to sever.

Yet reality intruded relentlessly. Lucian’s sharp presence lingered in the back of his mind, a reminder that someone else was watching, measuring his every reaction. Protect her… but be careful. One wrong move and the fragile trust could shatter. One misstep and the world she doesn’t know could reach her.

Adrian slipped the phone into his pocket, pressing it briefly to his chest. One day, I’ll see her. One day, this distance won’t matter. One day, these stolen moments will become real.

For now, though, he would watch, he would wait, he would protect. Every message, every flutter of her trust, every small bubble of connection was a thread he could not, and would not, let go.

He straightened his posture, mask of composure restored, stepping toward the council chamber. Duty called. Yet the weight of her existence, of the quiet intimacy across oceans, lingered on his shoulders like an invisible cloak—beautiful, intoxicating, and impossibly heavy.

AANYA’S POV

The city outside her apartment hummed with life, cars and motorcycles blurring past in streaks of light, vendors shouting, the occasional wail of sirens slicing through the evening air. Inside, her apartment was a small sanctuary of calm—relatively speaking. Aanya sank onto her bed, letting out a long, weary sigh as she kicked off her shoes.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately. She picked it up, expecting a work notification or a delayed message from a friend—but, of course, it was him.

A. Alive?

Aanya smiled faintly, a blush creeping over her cheeks despite the solitude of her room. Somehow, just his messages made her feel lighter, more seen, even across continents.

Aanya: Barely. But I survived. Barely.

She leaned against the headboard, the phone balanced on her knees, savoring the tiny thrill his messages brought. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure if she should type or just let the silence linger.

A. Good. Keep surviving.

Her chest fluttered at his words. She whispered softly, as if the room itself needed to hear: Why does he do this to me?

Aanya typed slowly, heart racing. She almost deleted the words, almost chickened out. But a small spark of daring pushed her forward:

Aanya: And that someone honest, you think… might be me?

Her thumb hovered over the send button. Vulnerability felt dangerous. Exciting. And terrifying. With a decisive tap, the message went.

Almost instantly, her phone vibrated.

A. Yes. Maybe it’s you.

Aanya’s chest tightened. Across oceans, someone she had never met was thinking of her in ways she hadn’t dared imagine. She leaned back, staring at the ceiling, imagining him on a balcony in Valeria—golden light on his face, city sprawling below, thinking of her.

Her inner voice whispered warnings. Stop. You barely know him. You don’t know anything.

But the heart ignored reason. She typed again, playful and daring:

Aanya: Then let’s steal it. Just for tonight.

A.: Done. But only tonight. Tomorrow chaos returns.

Aanya laughed softly, curling under her blanket. For a few hours, the world could wait. For a few hours, she could steal a moment across oceans, a fragile bubble of intimacy that belonged only to her and him.

ADRIAN’S POV

The palace was quiet, the corridors empty, servants and nobles long since retired for the evening. Adrian leaned against the balcony railing, the city below a glittering sea of gold and shadow. His phone was still warm in his hand, glowing faintly with her words, each one echoing through him like a soft bell.

A. Then let’s steal it. Just for tonight.

He exhaled slowly. Tonight. One night where distance, duty, and identity could be ignored. One night where he could let himself exist in the fragile space they shared.

His mind wandered to her—the curve of her smile, the sharpness in her humor, the way she navigated chaos like it was second nature. She was alive in ways that no one in his palace world was, and he couldn’t stop imagining her.

Yet every thought was accompanied by the weight of responsibility. She didn’t know who he truly was. She didn’t know the dangers, the palace politics, the shadows lurking in every corridor. Protecting her meant more than observation—it meant patience, discretion, and constant vigilance.

His thumb hovered over the screen. He wanted to say more, to tease, to protect, to claim—but he had to hold back. She had no idea how much danger lurked in being known by him, and he had no intention of exposing her to it.

The tension in the air shifted as he sensed another presence. Lucian. His younger brother stepped onto the balcony, leaning casually against the railing, eyes glinting with mischief and sharp insight.

Lucian: Ah… the late-night messages, the subtle infatuation. Care to explain, or shall I piece it together myself?

Adrian stiffened. Lucian always had a way of seeing past masks, past careful façades.

Adrian: It’s… complicated.

Lucian smirked, sharp as a blade.

Lucian: Complicated? You mean the girl across oceans who makes you glow like a fool every time your phone buzzes?

Adrian’s chest tightened. He couldn’t deny it. She had already become a tether, a thread he couldn’t ignore, and Lucian saw it all.

Adrian: I’m careful. I’m discreet. I’m protecting her.

Lucian leaned closer, teasing yet warning:

Lucian: Protecting her… or protecting yourself from falling completely? Because brother… your heart betrayed you a long time ago.

Adrian let out a sharp exhale, tension coiling in his chest. He was tangled in her world, in her presence, in her trust—even from afar. And now, with Lucian watching, that web of secrecy and longing grew only more complicated.

Lucian straightened, smirk never leaving his face.

Lucian: If she ever sets foot in Valeria… I’ll be watching. Closely. And you’ll answer for every sigh, every smile, every innocent text you’ve hidden from me.

Adrian’s shoulders slumped, a mix of exasperation and reluctant relief. Lucian’s presence meant someone else knew, someone else could share the burden of protecting her—though whether Lucian would help or complicate things was another question entirely.

Adrian turned back to the city below, phone tucked safely in his hand, chest heavy with longing, vigilance, and an ache he couldn’t quite name. Tonight, the world was small. Tonight, she was his, even across oceans. And tomorrow… tomorrow, the threads of duty, desire, and danger would tighten.

Three hearts, three continents, one fragile thread:

Adrian: caught between duty, protective instincts, and a growing, impossible fascination with a girl he has never met in person.

Lucian: watching, teasing, ready to interfere or protect, already curious about the girl who has his brother tangled.

Aanya: blissfully unaware of the palace intrigue, intoxicated by the fragile, electrifying connection that makes her chest flutter across oceans.

Tomorrow promises chaos, secrets, and confrontation. The threads pull tighter. Shadows grow bolder. And hearts—fragile, tangled, unprepared—are about to be tested.

Thank you for stepping into this world of longing, love, and secrets with me. 💖 Every chapter is written with the hope that you feel the heartbeat of the story, the pull between the hearts that can’t be tamed, and the choices that shape destiny. Your thoughts, your votes, and your comments mean the world — they bring the characters to life and help guide the journey ahead. ✨

Share your favorite moments, predictions, or the emotions that moved you most — I love reading every single one. The path of love is never simple, and the heart we run from may just lead us to the place we belong. Thank you for being part of this journey; your support keeps the story alive and the romance burning. 💫