Adultery Love Sex And War Part 1 : Age Of Darkness

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                               CHAPTER 24

Sonarika sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clutching the blanket like it was her last anchor. The curtains were drawn, sunlight barely spilling into the room. Her body still ached from the scratches, but it was her mind that bore the deeper wounds. The silence of the house felt heavier than any chains Dilawar had used.


Hemant walked in quietly, carrying a tray with soup and medicine. He placed it on the bedside table without saying a word, watching her. She noticed his gaze but could not meet it. 

"You should eat something" 

He said softly, his voice showing a mixture of care and distance.

She shook her head. 

"I can’t… not yet" Her lips quivered as she looked away, afraid he might touch her hand.

Hemant exhaled, sitting on the chair near her. 

"Sonarika, I know you’re hurting. But starving yourself won’t erase what happened" 

He tried to reach for her hand, but she instinctively pulled back. That flinch stabbed him deeper than her words ever could.

"I’m sorry" she whispered, her eyes welling up. 

"It’s not you. Every time someone touches me… I feel him again. Dilawar. His breath, his weight… I can’t escape it" 

Her voice cracked as she buried her face in her palms. Hemant clenched his jaw. He wanted to hold her, to assure her she was safe now, but he understood her recoil. 

"You don’t have to apologize. What he did… it’s unforgivable. You survived, that’s what matters"

From the doorway, Anjali cleared her throat softly. 

"She’s not alone, Bhaiya. We’re all here. She needs time" 

She gave her sister a fragile smile, hiding her own lingering fear. Sonarika looked at her sister, nodding faintly. 

"I feel like I’m ruining everyone’s life… yours, Hemant’s, even my son’s. He needs a mother who can hold him without shaking" 

Her voice trembled. Anjali stepped closer, squeezing her shoulder gently but carefully. 

"You are his mother Didi. Nothing changes that. He will heal because he sees you fighting too"

Sonarika’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced at the screen—Vikram. Her heart skipped. She silenced it quickly, hoping Hemant hadn’t noticed, but his eyes betrayed that he had. Hemant’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

"You can talk to him" he assured, the weight of betrayal mixing with his concern.

Sonarika looked down. 

"I don’t meet him. I only… talk. He listens. I can’t explain why, but sometimes I feel lighter when I speak to him"

Hemant leaned back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

"Of course you do. I start to see that maybe he understands you more than I do" 

His voice broke slightly at the end. Tears streamed down her cheeks. 

"Its not like that Hemant. With you, I see the disappointment in your eyes. I see the hurt I caused. With him… I don’t see that. But I want to—I want to find my way back. I just don’t know how"

For a moment, the room was silent except for her sobs. Then Hemant spoke, his tone raw. 

"I don’t know if we’ll make it, Sonarika. But I do know one thing—Dilawar doesn’t get to win. Don’t let his shadow destroy what’s left of you"

She lifted her head slowly, trembling but resolute. 

"Then stay. Just… stay near. Even if I can’t let you in right now. I need to learn to breathe again before I can love again"

Hemant nodded, his eyes moist, understanding the fragile hope in her words. He didn’t reach for her this time. Instead, he stayed seated beside her, silent but present—the way she needed him to be.


THE NEXT DAY AT NEHA'S CLINIC


The next afternoon, Sonarika sat in Dr. Neha Bharadwaj’s office, her hands clutching a tissue that was already crumpled from nervous twisting. The faint smell of lavender in the room tried to calm her, but her heart was a storm.

Dr. Neha leaned forward, her tone steady yet warm. 

"You’re safe here, Sonarika. Nothing you say will be judged. Tell me what you’ve been carrying since that night"

Sonarika closed her eyes tightly. 

"Every time I close my eyes, he’s there. Dilawar. His eyes, his smell, the way he pinned me down. I feel his teeth on my skin even though I know he’s gone" 

Her voice shook as tears slid down her face.

Neha handed her another tissue, nodding gently. 

"Your body remembers trauma even when your mind tells you it’s over. These flashbacks are natural. They’re not a sign of weakness, they’re a sign of survival"

"But it doesn’t feel like survival" Sonarika whispered. 

"It feels like I’m still his prisoner. Hemant tries to hold me, and I jolt like he’s hurting me. My son reaches for me, and I freeze. What kind of mother does that make me?"

Neha softened her tone. 

"It makes you a mother in pain. And pain doesn’t erase love. Your son doesn’t see your fear as rejection—he just sees that you’re hurting. Have you told Hemant this?"

Sonarika nodded faintly. 

"I tried. But every time I see his face, I see what I’ve done to him too. The affair, the divorce papers… and now this trauma. I can’t tell if I’m destroying him or if he’s just too strong to break in front of me"

"Do you want to heal with Hemant?" Neha asked carefully. 

"Or do you see your healing away from him?"

The question hit Sonarika like a stone. She hesitated, wiping her tears. 

"I don’t know. Part of me wants to disappear into Vikram’s words because they don’t carry judgment. But Hemant… he stayed. He took care of me, of our son. I don’t deserve that, but I crave it"

Neha leaned back, studying her. 

"Trauma makes us crave safety. Vikram may feel like an escape, but safety and healing might actually lie with the people who’ve held you even when you pushed them away"

Sonarika trembled, her voice dropping to a whisper. 

"But every time Hemant touches me, I feel Dilawar’s claws again. How can I let him in without reliving it?"

Neha’s eyes softened. 

"We take it step by step. Right now, don’t think of intimacy as touch. Think of it as presence. Hemant doesn’t need to hold you to love you. If he can sit beside you while you cry, that’s intimacy too. We’ll build from there"

Sonarika’s lips parted, a fragile breath escaping. 

"You really think I can come back from this? That one day I won’t see Dilawar in every shadow?"

"Yes" Neha said firmly. 

"But only if you stop fighting the memory as your enemy. Acknowledge it. Name it. You survived him, Sonarika. That means you’re stronger than the nightmare. And with support, the memory will lose its grip"

For the first time in days, Sonarika allowed herself a flicker of hope. She leaned back in the chair, her tears slowing. 

"Maybe… maybe I can learn to breathe again. Not for me, but for my son. And maybe for Hemant too"

Neha smiled softly. 

"Not maybe. You will. And every session, we’ll work until you no longer flinch at the shadows of the past, but walk toward the light of your present"


FEW DAYS LATER AT MEGHNA'S APARTMENT


Sonarika sat curled on the sofa in Meghna’s living room, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders though the evening wasn’t particularly cold. Her voice was low, cracked from nights of sleeplessness. 

"I thought coming home from the hospital would make things easier… but it hasn’t. Dilawar is still in my head, Meghna. Every time Hemant comes near me, I feel trapped again"

Meghna leaned forward, her eyes soft, her hand resting over Sonarika’s. 

"Shh… you’ve been through hell, Sonarika. It’s natural to feel this way. You don’t need to rush yourself" 

Her tone dripped with empathy, but behind her gaze, her mind was already moving pieces across a hidden board. Sonarika sighed, trembling. 

"I try so hard not to push Hemant away. He’s done so much—he’s been there for our son, he’s worked with the cops, he cut down Dilawar’s people at the source. And yet, when he touches me, I just… break"

Meghna tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint, understanding smile. 

"Because safety isn’t about who wins battles in the outside world. It’s about who makes you feel whole inside. And right now, Hemant doesn’t give you that… Vikram does"

Sonarika’s eyes flickered, conflicted. 

"But I haven’t even seen Vikram since… since everything. I only talk to him. If I met him, I’d react the same way I do with Hemant. I’d panic. I know I would"

Meghna’s fingers tightened just slightly over hers, her voice a velvet whisper. 

"No, you wouldn’t. Do you know why? Because when you were trapped, it was Vikram who came charging after you, heart on fire. Hemant? He went the legal way, safe behind walls of law enforcement. Admirable, yes, but not what your soul needed in that moment"

Sonarika frowned, pulling her hand back, hurt flashing in her eyes. 

"That’s unfair, Meghna. Hemant fought in his own way. He risked his career, his name, everything. Don’t downplay what he did just because he wasn’t the one kicking down Dilawar’s door"

Meghna leaned back gracefully, unruffled. 

"I’m not downplaying him, Sonarika. I’m only holding up a mirror. Hemant is the man of law and order. But your heart… your body… they still crave the fire Vikram brings. Don’t mistake that truth for betrayal. It’s just who you are"

Sonarika covered her face with her palms, her voice muffled. 

"You make it sound like I want him. But I don’t know if I want anyone right now. My body feels… broken. My heart feels like ash"

Meghna’s tone softened, slipping deeper into her role as confidante. 

"Broken things don’t need order to heal, they need passion. You don’t need Hemant’s delicacy, you need Vikram’s strength. That’s why you keep talking to him, isn’t it? Because deep down, he makes you feel safe and alive again"

Sonarika’s breath hitched. Her heart pulled in two directions, guilt gnawing at her chest. 

"But if I follow that… won’t I lose Hemant completely? And what about my son? What if I ruin everything again?"

Meghna reached for her hand once more, her thumb stroking it with deceptive warmth. 

"Sonarika, you can’t heal anyone else if you’re in pieces yourself. Your son needs a mother who feels alive, not just surviving. Hemant will go on with his duty, his law, his battles. But you—your soul will wither unless you reach for what you truly desire"

For a long moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock. Then Meghna’s smile grew a shade brighter, her eyes glinting with hidden triumph. 

"Speaking of which… Vikram’s birthday is this weekend. He invited me, of course. But imagine his face if you walked in. The joy, the relief… the love in his eyes. He needs you there"

Sonarika stiffened, her mind spiraling. 

"I… I don’t know. I can’t face him like this. I’m not ready. I’m terrified of what I’ll feel if I see him"

Meghna cupped her cheek tenderly, a picture of sisterly affection masking venomous intent. 

"You don’t need to decide now. Just think about it. Sometimes the path forward isn’t about logic, it’s about surrendering to what your heart already knows. And your heart, Sona, beats faster every time you hear his name"


As Sonarika lowered her gaze, trembling and confused, Meghna turned her head slightly, hiding the victorious curve of her lips. Inside, she smiled. Another step closer, she thought. Another thread tightening around Jagjeet’s precious daughter.


As Sonarika left. The apartment door clicked shut behind her, leaving Meghna alone in the quiet. She lingered for a moment by the window, her eyes following Sonarika’s car as it drove away. Then, slowly, the warmth on her face dissolved, her smile curling into something colder, sharper. She walked to the mirror on the far wall, studying her own reflection. 

"Poor Sonarika" she murmured softly, her voice laced with mock sympathy. 

"So fragile, so lost. Always looking for someone to tell her who she is" 

Her eyes glittered with cruel amusement. Her mind slipped back to that cliff years ago, when Samhita had screamed as she fell, her hands reaching out for help that never came. Meghna’s lips curved into a thin, chilling smile. 

"One push was all it took. Jagjeet thought he could bury me in shame, but he buried his daughter instead. And no one ever suspected"

Her chest rose with a quiet laugh, bitter and triumphant. 

"Samhita was only the beginning. But Sonarika… oh, Sonarika is the masterpiece. To watch her unravel piece by piece, to watch her clutch at the very hands that tighten the noose… it’s delicious"

She paced the room, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor. 

"Jagjeet destroyed my mother, left her to rot while he played king in his golden house. And now, his perfect little princess will taste every ounce of that pain. Affair, betrayal, captivity, nightmares—she’ll choke on them all until there’s nothing left but ruin"

Her laughter grew low, throaty. 

"And the best part? She still calls me her best friend. The only one she trusts. The irony is almost poetic"

Meghna picked up the wine glass from the coffee table, swirling the red liquid idly. 

"Hemant tries so hard to save her, to play the noble husband. But he will never be enough. I’ll make sure of it. Every time he gets close, I’ll remind her of Vikram. Every time she tries to breathe, I’ll whisper that she still craves him"

She took a sip, savoring the taste, imagining Sonarika’s confusion festering deeper. 

"It won’t be long before she breaks again. And when she does, Jagjeet’s world will collapse all over again. His daughter, ruined by her own choices, by her own weakness. unlike her young and innocent sister"

Her eyes darkened, a shadow flickering across her face as she looks at an old photo of Jagjeet. 

"Do you hear me, father? From wherever you rot, do you see me now? You thought you could erase me, deny me, shame me. But it is I who will erase you. Through her"

She set the glass down with a sharp clink and leaned back against the sofa, stretching her arms out like a queen in her throne. 

"Vikram’s birthday will be the next step. I’ll push her into his arms again, remind her how alive she feels with him. Hemant will watch helplessly, just like Samhita did before the fall"

A cruel smile touched her lips as she whispered to herself. 

"And Sonarika won’t even realize I’m the hand guiding her down the same path. Not until it’s too late"

Her phone buzzed on the table, Vikram’s name flashing across the screen. Meghna’s smirk widened as she answered with a silken tone. 

"Vikram… yes, I spoke to her. Don’t worry. She’s thinking about you more than she admits. She will be there for your special day making your night. I promise"

When the call ended, she leaned back, closing her eyes, satisfied. 

"The game is moving, piece by piece. And soon, my revenge will be complete. Jagjeet’s daughter will fall, just not as quick as Samhita did!"

The silence of the room settled again, but it was no longer the quiet of peace—it was the quiet before the storm, the kind that waits patiently before swallowing everything whole.


THE EVENING OF VIKRAM'S BIRTHDAY


The city skyline glittered outside the car window as Sonarika sat in silence, her pulse thrumming against her throat. She hadn’t wanted to come, but Meghna had insisted—had even chosen her outfit. The crimson saree hugged her curves, the silk soft against her skin, yet it burned her with memory. It was the saree Vikram had bought her during their affair, a forbidden gift she had sworn never to wear again. And now, here she was, wrapped in it like a secret reborn.

"You’re trembling" 

Meghna murmured, adjusting Sonarika’s pallu before they stepped out of the car. 

"Don’t. You look breathtaking. Vikram won’t be able to take his eyes off you"

Sonarika swallowed hard, her palms damp. 

"That’s exactly what I’m afraid of"

Inside the banquet hall, the air buzzed with laughter and music. Chandeliers sparkled above, and the scent of roses mingled with expensive perfume. Sonarika’s heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she followed Meghna. Every step felt heavier, as though the saree itself was dragging her down into the past she wanted to escape. And then she saw him. Vikram stood across the room, tall and magnetic in a charcoal suit, laughter spilling from his lips as he greeted guests. But when his eyes lifted and found her, everything else seemed to dissolve. His smile faltered, his breath caught—she could see it even from afar.

Heat rushed to Sonarika’s cheeks. She wanted to turn away, to hide behind her shawl, but the saree clung to her like a confession. She could almost feel Dilawar’s hands on her, the bite of his claws—but Vikram’s gaze pulled her elsewhere, into a space of safety and danger all at once. Meghna leaned close, whispering. 

"Look at him, Sona. That’s not just a man seeing a guest. That’s a man seeing you. Only you"

Her knees weakened as Vikram began walking toward her, cutting through the crowd with single-minded focus. The noise of the party dulled around her until it was just his footsteps, steady, deliberate, carrying him closer.

"Soni…" 

His voice was rough when he finally stood before her, his eyes roaming over her saree with a mixture of longing and disbelief. 

"You wore it. The one I—" He stopped himself, lowering his tone. 

"You’re even more beautiful than I remember"

She looked down, her fingers twisting into the fabric. 

"I shouldn’t have worn it. It feels wrong. But Meghna said…" 

Her words trailed, shame and guilt lacing every syllable. Vikram shook his head, his gaze unwavering. 

"It doesn’t feel wrong to me. It feels like fate. Like you were meant to be here tonight. Like you were meant to remind me that some things never die"

Her chest tightened. 

"Vicky… I’m broken. Every touch reminds me of him. Dilawar. I don’t know if I’ll ever be normal again"

He softened, his voice thick with emotion. 

"You’re not broken, Sona. You’re wounded. There’s a difference. Wounds heal. Scars remind you that you survived. And if it takes forever, I’ll wait with you until you believe that again"


Her eyes blurred with tears. For a moment, she wanted to collapse into his arms, to drown in the promise of safety he offered. But then Hemant’s face flashed in her mind—his tired eyes, his quiet support, his hands that had held their son through sleepless nights. Her heart twisted violently between two worlds. From the bar, Meghna raised her glass, her lips curving into a secret smile. She had chosen the saree for this very reason, to bind Sonarika’s heart tighter to Vikram, to deepen her confusion until the cracks tore her heart apart. Watching the flicker of longing in Sonarika’s eyes, Meghna knew the trap was working.

"Stay" Vikram whispered, his breath brushing her ear. 

"At least for tonight. Let me see you smile again, even if just once"

Sonarika trembled, the music swelling around her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run or to surrender. But as Meghna’s approving gaze burned into her from across the room, she knew one thing—she was willingly walking to the same warmth that ruined her marriage. The night stretched on, and Sonarika found herself caught in a strange haze. At first, the noise, the lights, the pressing crowd all made her chest tighten. But each time Vikram spoke to her, each time his hand brushed lightly past hers without forcing touch, she felt a little more at ease. It was as though his presence dulled the claws of her nightmares. They drifted to a quieter corner of the hall, away from the loud chatter. Vikram leaned against the wall, his eyes soft. 

"See? You’re still standing. No ghosts. Just you and me. And you look alive again"

Sonarika’s lips trembled. 

"Alive… I haven’t felt that in weeks. When Hemant touches me, I go cold, I shatter. But here with you… it’s different. I don’t see Dilawar’s face"

A tender smile tugged at his mouth. 

"That’s because I’m not him. I’m not here to take. I’m here to give. All of me, if you’ll let me"

She swallowed hard, her breath shaky. A part of her screamed to pull away, to remember her vows, her son, the fragile threads still binding her marriage. But another part, the wounded part desperate for warmth, leaned toward Vikram as if drawn by gravity. They wandered toward the gallery balcony, the world outside painted in starlight and city glow. The breeze carried the scent of jasmine from the gardens below, cooling her heated skin. Sonarika rested her palms on the railing, staring out at the horizon.

"It feels… lighter out here" she whispered. 

"Like the air doesn’t choke me"

Vikram stepped behind her, careful not to touch. 

"Because you’re not trapped anymore. You’re free. With me, you’ll always be free"

Her heart raced. She turned slowly, their faces inches apart, his breath mingling with hers. For a fleeting second, Dilawar’s sneer tried to creep into her mind—but it dissolved like mist under Vikram’s gaze. In its place came warmth, safety, and a dangerous spark of desire.

"Vikram…" she whispered, torn. 

"If I do this… if I give in… what does that make me?"

His hand finally lifted, cupping her cheek with the gentlest of touches, not a demand but an offering. 

"It makes you human. It makes you someone who deserves love, not scars"

Her eyes closed, and she let herself lean into him. Their lips met in a tentative kiss that quickly deepened, years of longing and forbidden fire igniting between them. Her hands clutched his shirt, his arms wrapped carefully around her waist, and for the first time in weeks, the fear in her body melted into aching need. Inside the hall, near the bar, Meghna swirled her wine glass slowly, her eyes gleaming as she watched the couple through the open gallery doors. The sight of Sonarika melting into Vikram’s arms was everything she had orchestrated. A wicked smile curved her lips as she raised the glass in a silent toast.

"To you, Jagjeet" she whispered under her breath. 

"Your perfect daughter, drowning in her own desires. Just as I planned"

As Vikram and Sonarika lost themselves in their kiss, Meghna drank deeply, savoring her victory. Every stolen touch, every whispered breath, was another thread unraveling the fragile fabric of Sonarika’s life—and Meghna reveled in the slow, delicious ruin.


THAT NIGHT


The clock in the hallway read past midnight when Sonarika slipped her spare key into the lock and pushed the door open. The house was shrouded in darkness, silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. She paused at the threshold, her heart tightening. Hemant always kept the living room lamp on for her, waiting no matter how late she returned. Tonight, it was different. She closed the door softly behind her, her saree brushing against her legs as she stepped inside. The emptiness pressed against her chest like a weight. The familiar comfort of knowing he’d be there—alert, weary, but waiting—was gone.


Her heels clicked against the floor as she moved toward the bedroom, each sound magnified in the stillness. Her son slept peacefully, his small chest rising and falling in rhythm, his arm dbangd over a stuffed toy. Relief washed through her, followed quickly by guilt. She had been at a party, lost in another man’s arms, while her son dreamed alone. Beside him at the adjoining bed, Anjali lay curled beneath a blanket, her face calm for once, untroubled by the fears that had haunted them all. A pang of gratitude stabbing her heart. Her sister had endured so much, and yet still stood by her side.


Finally, she reached the master bedroom. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open. Hemant was there, lying on his side of the bed, already asleep. His arm was tucked beneath his pillow, his face turned away from her. The sight stopped her cold. She stood in the doorway, unable to move. This was new. Hemant never slept before she returned. No matter how strained things had become, no matter how bitter the silence between them, he had always waited. Tonight, he hadn’t. Tonight, he had let her come home to darkness.


Her throat tightened, and tears threatened to spill. Quietly, she slipped into the bathroom and changed out of the crimson saree, folding it away as if trying to hide her sin. She put on a plain nightdress, washed her face, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were red, her lips swollen from Vikram’s kiss. Shame burned her cheeks. When she finally slid into bed, she did so carefully, not wanting to wake him. She lay on her side, staring at his back, the steady rise and fall of his breathing. A wall of silence stood between them, thicker than stone. She wanted to reach out, to touch his shoulder, to whisper that she was sorry—but her hand froze halfway, retreating into the safety of her blanket.


Her mind replayed the night, the contrast between Vikram’s burning gaze and Hemant’s turned back. Between desire and duty. Between fire and ash. She had chosen both, and now she was losing them all the same. The ache of separation grew heavier with each breath. For the first time, she wondered if Hemant was truly letting go—if he was learning to live without waiting for her. The thought made her chest ache with a sorrow deeper than Dilawar’s shadow, deeper than any wound he had left on her body.


She closed her eyes, but sleep would not come. Instead, tears slipped silently across her cheeks, soaking the pillow. The bed felt colder, emptier, though Hemant was right beside her. The truth was undeniable: she was losing him, piece by piece. And in the quiet of the darkened house, the guilt and grief pressed down until she could barely breathe. For all the passion Vikram had sparked, it was this silence—Hemant’s silence—that broke her heart the most.



THE NEXT MORNING


The sun filtered gently through the sheer curtains, painting the bedroom in pale gold. Sonarika stirred awake, her eyes heavy from the restless night. She expected the usual silence—Hemant brooding at the dresser, his tie knotted in bitterness, his eyes cast away from hers. But what she saw instead stopped her breath. Hemant stood before the mirror, buttoning a silk blue shirt, its sleeves rolled neatly up to his elbows. He had shaved clean, his chin sharp and smooth, and his hair—usually slicked back with gel until it was rigid—fell loosely around his forehead, showing its natural length and quiet elegance.

For a moment, Sonarika blinked, almost convinced she was looking at another man. This wasn’t the brooding husband weighed down by betrayal and heartbreak. This was someone lighter, someone almost radiant.

Anjali passed the doorway, pausing in surprise. 

"Bhaiya… wow" she exclaimed, grinning. 

"You look… different. In a good way"

Hemant turned, the faintest of smiles on his lips. 

"New responsibilities are coming in for YOD. We’re expanding. It can’t just be a defense manufacturing company anymore. I see YOD Enterprises in the future. If the company is evolving, so should I"

He adjusted his cuffs casually, his tone steady, not defensive, not bitter. Just certain. Sonarika sat up on the bed, watching, confusion swirling in her chest. For months he had carried his heartbreak like armor, mocking her whenever he could, reminding her of her betrayal with sharp words. But lately, there was no trace of that. Anjali stepped further in, teasing. 

"Well, the change suits you. You’ve gone from brooding working man to… charming Business Magnate"

Hemant chuckled under his breath, then reached for a magazine on the dresser. 

"Speaking of charming" he said, tossing it to Anjali. 

"Page thirteen"

Curious, Anjali flipped through until her eyes widened. 

"Oh my god, this is you!" 

She held up the bridal magazine, where Hemant posed in a cream sherwani, regal yet effortlessly stylish. Sonarika’s jaw slackened. She walked over, peering at the page as though it might vanish. 

"Hemant… you never told me"

He shrugged lightly, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. 

"Manish Malhotra asked me for a favor after his party earlier this year. This was it. I didn’t think it mattered enough to mention"

Anjali burst into laughter. 

"Didn’t matter? You’re in a bridal magazine, Bhaiya! people about to marry across India are probably circling this page for inspiration"

Sonarika let out a soft, reluctant laugh of her own. 

"I’ll admit, you look incredible in it. And right now… this new look… you don’t just wear it, you own it" 

Her voice softened, betraying her surprise. Hemant glanced at her briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips, but he said nothing more. Instead, he turned his attention to Karan, who was padding sleepily into the room. Hemant scooped him up, kissing his forehead, ruffling his hair with easy warmth. As he walked toward the door with Karan perched on his arm, he looked back at Anjali. 

"Change isn’t always bad, Anju. Sometimes, it’s exactly what’s needed" 

He winked lightly before stepping out. Sonarika stood frozen, the laughter fading from her lips. Something heavy twisted in her stomach. This Hemant was unfamiliar, untethered from the shadows she had grown used to. A part of her wanted to smile at his transformation, another part ached at the thought that maybe—just maybe—he was truly moving on. Sonarika sat back on the bed, her fingers resting on the bridal magazine. Her eyes lingered on his photo, her mind torn. Was this new Hemant a man rediscovering himself? Or was he becoming someone she could no longer reach?

And for the first time since her betrayal, she asked herself a question that frightened her: was Hemant’s healing leaving her behind?

                                                                                                                                                                                                       (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                (CHAPTER CONTD)

AT YOD INDUSTRIES



The lobby of YOD Industries welcomed him as Hemant Kumar walked in, his polished shoes clicking against the concrete. There was something different in his stride this morning—no hesitation, no lingering shadows of the past, only resolve. The rumble of trucks and the metallic clatter of workers filled the air, but to him it sounded like the heartbeat of a growing empire.

At the bay, a supervising army personnal gave a crisp salute. 

"Mr. Kumar, the final shipment of weaponized ATVs is loaded. Dispatch to Pune base will begin within the hour"

Hemant nodded. 

"Ensure the drivers get full security clearance. No lapses. This should be the benchmark for all future military dealings"

"Yes, sir" the personnal replied. 

"We’ve doubled the convoy guard"

Crossing into the assembly section, Hemant was greeted by the thunder of welding torches and the grind of machinery. The skeletal frame of the Indigenous BTR stood tall under floodlights, with engineers clustered around consoles.

"Morning, Raghav" Hemant called as he approached the lead engineer.

"Morning, sir" Raghavendra replied, holding up a tablet. 

"Stress tests are complete. The chassis handled 40% above projected load. We’re moving to suspension alignment. Prototype could be ready next quarter"

Hemant glanced at the figures. 

"That’s within our timeline. But don’t chase speed at the cost of integrity. A single failure in trials will set us back years"

Another engineer joined in. 

"Weapon integration modules are underway. The 20mm autocannon system has cleared safety checks. Next is the rpg-lock interface"
 
"Focus on compatibility with existing army systems. No soldier should waste time adapting to a platform that’s supposed to protect him"

Hemant replied evenly.

From across the floor, Vaibhav, YOD’s software engineer, hurried over with Kamya beside him.

"Sir, we’ve just received ANVIL’s new blueprints" Vaibhav said, showing Hemant his screen. 

"Two handheld weapon designs. They are looking for your input. Wants YOD to integrate their specifics in it"

Hemant gestured. 

"Leave the files on my desk. I’ll review today. Keep your team ready for revisions"

Kamya added. 

"One more update. Shipments of Alignment Knots are up by 18%. Two new clients signed last week. I’ve already expanded production schedules"

Hemant looked at her with a brief approving nod. 

"Good work, Kamya. Track client retention closely. Growth means nothing if we can’t sustain it"

"I’ll prepare a retention matrix" she assured.

By the time Hemant reached his office, the desk was neatly arranged, ANVIL’s blueprints placed dead center. He paused, running a finger along the schematic lines. This was where imagination met reality, and reality had deadlines. A knock at the door announced Raquel. He entered with a slim folder. 


"Bhaijaan. I’ve overseen their holdings. The ledgers, the businesses—now under your control"

Hemant raised an eyebrow. 

"Details"

Raquel flipped open the folder. 

"Two electronics shops, garment warehouses, three small-scale factories, and some residential property stakes. All now under your watch. No resistance so far"

Hemant leaned forward. 

"And the victims? People forced into debts or pushed out of their shops?"

Raquel hesitated, then said. 

"Most are still tied up in unpaid balances. Some lost everything. Families are… fractured"

Hemant’s response was steady. 

"Here’s what we do. Cancel their debts. Return the stolen shops to original owners. For those without resources, give them a chance to start fresh under YOD’s mentorship. We’ll formalize this through legal channels—no gray areas"

Raquel scribbled notes. 

"Understood. Transparent handovers only"

Hemant continued. 

"Regarding Dilawar’s Colony, I’ve spoken with the residents. We’ll rebuild the infrastructure—housing, sanitation, even the college. In return, they’ll commit to a community cooperative tied to YOD’s ecosystem. It’s investment, not takeover"

Raquel looked up. 

"That’ll win you long-term loyalty"

"It’ll give them dignity" Hemant corrected.

As Raquel closed the folder, he added. 

"Glad to see you becoming true to yourself Bhaijaan. You’re reorganizing entire communities"

Hemant stood, moving toward the glass wall. 

"Communities are the foundation of markets. You take care of people, and they’ll take care of the enterprise. That’s how stability is built"

Through the glass, Hemant observed the movement below—trucks departing, sparks flying, workers focused. It was an intricate system, each part feeding into the other. What once was his personal ambition now looked like the skeleton of an empire. 

He spoke softly, almost to himself: "This is just the beginning"


THAT EVENING


Hemant was on his way to an important meet when his SUV started to behave erratically. He called a mechanic after failure to restart it multiple times. He was standing at the roadside with the bonnet up to see if there is any other ways. He instead arranged for the vehicle to be towed so he stood at the roadside to hitch any ride. That is when Disha was riding to that road in her scooty.

Disha pulled her scooty closer to the curb, her eyes widening as she recognized the tall, commanding figure fussing with the hood of his car. It was her former boss, now a high-profile industrialist. Her pulse quickened, and her voice trembled slightly as she called out, 

"Boss… need help?"

Hemant straightened, his sharp jaw catching the sunlight, and smiled faintly. 

"Disha? Well, look at that. Yes, seems my ride doesn’t want to cooperate today. I need to get near Elphinston Street. Still working at Quadron?"

She nodded, suddenly aware of how small she felt under his gaze. 

"Of course. I am the owner of your last cabin remember?" 

She hesitated, then tilted her head. 

"If you want… I could drop you"

"Really?" His eyes softened, though amusement danced there. 

"On this scooty of yours? Fine then. I trust you. Let’s go" 

He slid behind her, his thighs brushing against her hips. The faintest touch, yet Disha’s body erupted in awareness. Starting the scooty, she tried to steady her hands, but her mind was racing. She could feel the solid weight of him behind her, the warmth of his chest close to her back. The heat of his presence was intoxicating. She gave a nervous laugh. 

"Just so you know, I drive fast"

Hemant leaned closer, his breath grazing her ear. 

"It’s a scooty, Disha. The only thing I’m afraid of is you wobbling us into traffic" 

His teasing tone did little to calm her—it only made her skin prickle with anticipation. As they weaved through the street, she felt every shift of his body. The firmness of his thighs pressing against her, the subtle grip of his hands on the side seat. Her imagination betrayed her—images of his hands holding her waist, pulling her back into him. Suddenly, she pressed the brakes sharper than needed. Hemant’s body pressed flush against her, his chest molding into her back, his hand instinctively grasping her hip for balance. The touch was fleeting but deliberate enough to send a shiver running down her spine.

"Disha" he said lowly, almost a warning, though a trace of laughter colored his tone. 

"Trying to give me a heart attack?" 

His thumb had grazed her waist before he pulled his hand away, but the ghost of that touch burned hotter than fire. She swallowed hard, her lips parting. 

"Maybe I wanted to see how well you’d hold on" she teased, her voice softer than intended. 

Inside, she was a storm—her body throbbing with the dangerous thrill of his closeness. The temptation was unbearable. When he leaned slightly forward to check the road, his chest brushed against her back again, firmer this time. She gasped, barely keeping control of the scooty. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to stop, to let the moment unravel into something forbidden. But before she could act on her reckless desire, Hemant tapped her shoulder. 

"Here. Stop here, this is my stop"

Reluctantly, she braked and he stepped off, adjusting his shirt as though nothing had happened. 

"Thanks, Disha. You drive… better than you claim" 

He smiled and walked away. Disha stayed frozen for a second, breathing hard, her thighs pressed tight on the scooty seat. As she rode to her office, every bump in the road only reminded her of the heat she still carried. 

By the time Disha parked her scooty at Quadron, her legs were trembling. She had never felt such fire before from something so simple—his hand brushing her waist, his chest pressing into her back. Every nerve in her body buzzed. She hurried to her cabin, shutting the door quickly, her breath still unsteady.

The moment she dropped into her chair, she froze. This was his chair once. His desk. His office. She ran her fingers along the polished wooden table, as if she could still feel the echoes of him there. The room seemed haunted by his presence—his laughter, his calm voice, the way he used to lean back in this very seat while giving instructions. She leaned back, closing her eyes. The fantasy began to creep in. She pictured Hemant walking into the cabin now, not as her former boss but as the man who had just set her body ablaze. She imagined him shutting the door firmly behind him, that commanding aura swallowing the room whole.

In her mind, he came up to her desk, leaning forward on his hands, his sharp eyes locking into hers. 

"So you still sit in my chair?" he would say, voice low and heavy. 

"Do you even know what I used to imagine when I was in it?"

Her breath grew heavier as she envisioned herself biting her lip, challenging him. 

"Maybe I’ve imagined it too" she whispered back in her fantasy. 

She saw him circling the desk, standing behind her, his strong hands sliding down her shoulders, pressing into her arms, before gripping the edges of the chair. She imagined him bending lower, his chest against her back, just like on the scooty—but this time no accident, no excuse. His breath hot on her neck, lips grazing her skin. She tilted her head to the side in her fantasy, offering herself, desperate for him to claim her. The fantasy grew bolder—his hands pushing aside the files on her desk, his voice rougher now. 

"I thought about bending you over this table so many times, Disha" 

She gasped at her own imagination, thighs pressing tightly together under her skirt as heat pooled low in her belly. In her mind, she let it happen. She pictured herself bent over the desk, her palms flat against the wood, while Hemant pressed against her from behind. She could feel his strength, the weight of him, the hunger that matched her own. The thought alone made her shiver with delicious ache.

Her lips parted as she let the fantasy play out—his hands running along her waist, pulling her hips back into him, his voice deep and unrestrained. She thought of his suit jacket falling carelessly onto the floor, his belt unbuckling, and the raw urgency of him taking her without hesitation, right here in the cabin where they once pretended to be nothing more than boss and secretary. Disha’s breath hitched as she gripped the arms of the chair, lost in the vividness of her own mind. Every imagined word, every imagined touch, was too real. She could almost smell his cologne, almost hear the faint growl in his throat when she whimpered his name.

She shifted in her seat, thighs rubbing together for relief, her body betraying how deep the fantasy had carried her. Her skin was hot, her chest heaving. She almost hated how badly she wanted him—how much power he still had over her even in absence. Just then, the sharp knock on her cabin door jolted her awake. 

"Disha, came early?" came Priyanka’s voice. 

Disha straightened instantly, smacking her forehead lightly with her palm, forcing a laugh to cover the flush on her face. 

"Yes , Mam"

"Alright , come to my cabin with the project presentation. I need to make some minor changes"

Priyanka walked away confused by Disha's state.

"On my way, ma’am" 

But as she picked up her pen and the necessary paperwork of the project, the truth remained—no matter how much she buried it, Hemant still owned her thoughts, and her body was still aching from the fantasy she had spun around him.



FEW DAYS LATER



The room was bathed in warm light, the faint scent of lavender filling the air. Dr. Neha sat with her notebook balanced on her lap, her posture calm but attentive. Sonarika, wrapped in a soft cream shawl, sat opposite her, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the fabric. She looked weary, her eyes swollen as if she hadn’t slept properly for days.

"Tell me what’s been on your mind since our last session" Neha prompted gently.

Sonarika exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping to the carpet. 

"It’s Hemant. He’s… changing"

Neha tilted her head. 

"Changing how?"

Sonarika’s lips pressed together as if she were afraid to admit it. 

"For months, he was bitter, angry—every word was laced with disappointment. But now… it’s different. He’s dressing differently, speaking differently. He looks… confident. Almost charming. Like he’s shedding all that pain and stepping into something new" 

Her voice broke into a whisper. 

"And I don’t know how to feel about it"

Neha let the silence stretch, watching her patient’s trembling hands. 

"What part unsettles you—the fact that he’s moving forward, or the possibility that he’s moving forward without you?"

Sonarika flinched at the question, her throat tightening. 

"Both" she admitted after a long pause. 

"I want him to be happy… God, I do. But if his happiness means moving further away from me, I don’t know if I can bear it. And yet… maybe I shouldn’t be in his life at all. Maybe I’m just the scar he can’t heal"

Neha leaned forward, her voice firm yet kind. 

"You’ve just said two conflicting things. On one hand, you say you want the marriage to work. On the other, you believe you’re the obstacle to his happiness. So I need to ask you plainly, Sonarika—do you want this marriage to work, or not?"

The question landed like a stone in the pit of her stomach. Sonarika’s eyes filled with tears, but she forced herself to hold Neha’s gaze. 

"I do. I want it more than anything. But every time I see him, I see what I’ve done to him. My betrayal, my weakness—it’s written all over his face. How can we rebuild something when I’ve destroyed it with my own hands?"

Neha’s tone softened. 

"You’re not the only one in this marriage, Sonarika. Healing and rebuilding don’t fall entirely on you. The question isn’t just whether you’ve broken it—it’s whether he wants to fix it with you. Do you see him trying?"

Sonarika’s breath caught. She thought of the smile Hemant had given Anjali that morning, the lightness in his voice, the way he had lifted Karan so effortlessly. She thought of the bridal magazine, his transformation, his determination to embrace change. 

"He’s trying… but not with me. It feels like he’s creating a new world where I’m not needed anymore"

Neha leaned back, jotting something in her notebook. 

"Or maybe he’s creating a new version of himself to survive the pain—and he hasn’t yet decided whether you fit into that picture or not. That doesn’t mean you can’t"

Sonarika swallowed hard, her voice trembling. 

"But what if my presence is just a constant reminder of what I did? What if I’m poison to his peace?"

Neha looked at her carefully. 

"Then the real question becomes: are you willing to fight for the space you want in his life, or are you already preparing to let go?"

Tears spilled freely now, rolling down Sonarika’s cheeks. 

"I don’t know" she whispered. 

"I don’t know what hurts more—losing him completely, or staying and watching him change into someone I can’t reach"

The room fell into quiet, broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock. Neha didn’t rush her, didn’t fill the silence. She let the weight of Sonarika’s confession hang in the air, knowing the conflict was no longer about Hemant’s transformation, but about Sonarika’s own choice.


THAT SAME TIME AT YOD INDUSTRIES


The office window reflected the dusky sky, streaked with orange and violet. Hemant sat alone in his chair at YOD Industries, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. A file lay open on his desk, but his eyes weren’t on the numbers—they were distant, caught somewhere between past and present. He thought of Sonarika. The woman who had once been the anchor of his world, the center of his ambitions, the only person who could calm the storm inside him. Now, she was a reminder of pain he couldn’t erase. Every look, every silence between them whispered of betrayal. And no matter how much therapy healed her wounds, Hemant doubted it could heal what lay between them.

"She doesn’t have space for me in her heart anymore" he murmured under his breath. 

It was a truth he had been circling around for weeks, but tonight it sat heavy and undeniable. Even if she came back whole, would she ever look at him the same way again? Or would he always be the man who waited while she was in someone else’s arms? He closed his eyes, and another memory flickered—the hospital, the days after the truth had shattered him. Pranitha Mehta, the corporate heiress, had visited, bringing words of encouragement. He had been numb, broken, and yet, when her hand lingered on his, when her lips suddenly pressed against his in a fleeting kiss, he hadn’t pulled away. It had been unexpected, brief, but real. For one moment, he had felt wanted again.

And then there was her—Tamanna. A friend since college, one who had once harbored feelings for him, but life had taken them in different directions. They had reconnected, almost by accident, and to his surprise, the bond was still there. Stronger, perhaps, because both of them now carried the weight of loss. Tamanna, widowed and raising her daughter Shraddha alone, understood the silent struggles of parenthood that words rarely captured. Their conversations stretched into late nights—sometimes about work, sometimes about memories, sometimes about nothing at all. And yet, in that nothingness, Hemant felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in years.


He pictured Shraddha laughing with Karan during their last meeting, the two children tumbling across the garden while Tamanna smiled, her eyes catching his with something unspoken. There was no bitterness there, no shadow of betrayal. Only the quiet understanding of two people who had endured loss and still found the strength to breathe. He hasn't seen her since the night of conflict with Dilawar. Figured he should give them space to recover from that ordeal. Hemant rubbed his forehead, conflicted. A part of him still longed for Sonarika, still dreamed of what their family could have been. But another part whispered that perhaps he is wasting his time to be someone important to her. Perhaps his time forward lay in something new, something unexpected.


His phone buzzed on the desk. A message. He glanced at the screen—Tamanna. 

'I wanna see you....would you mind coming at my place for Lunch?'

For the first time in a long while, Hemant’s lips curved into a genuine smile. He typed a reply, his heart lighter than it had been in months. But deep down, a storm still brewed. Because no matter how close he drifted to Tamanna, part of him still wondered if he was moving forward—or just running away from the ghost of Sonarika. But with a new perspective , he typed a response.

'I'll be there'

                                                                                                                                                                                                   (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                (CHAPTER CONTD)

SOME TIME LATER

The bell’s chime still echoed faintly when Tamanna opened the door. She stood framed in the warm glow of the hallway lamp, her green saree dbangd loosely, her blouse leaving pale skin visible in a way that tugged at Hemant’s restraint. For a heartbeat, neither spoke—only silence breathed between them, heavy, aware. Hemant finally cleared his throat. 

"Where’s Shraddha?"

Tamanna’s lips curved into a soft smile. 

"At her institute"

He hesitated, eyes darting past her shoulder into the still apartment. 

"And Chaitali?"

"She’ll return only after picking Shraddha up. It’s just us, Hemant" 

The calm in her voice carried something else underneath—an invitation, a truth she no longer wished to bury. Before he could form another question, she stepped closer. Each movement of her feet against the tiled floor felt deliberate, pulling the air taut between them. Hemant felt it—her nearness, her intent. His chest tightened. 

"Tammu… we shouldn’t do something we’ll regret"

Her gaze locked onto his, unflinching. 

"The only regret I have is that I didn’t let this happen sooner"

And then her lips found his. The kiss was sudden, fervent, carrying the heat of bottled years and unspoken desires. For an instant, Hemant tried to resist—hands hovering, body rigid. But her mouth, her warmth, the trembling ache in her touch—he gave way. He cupped her face, answering her hunger with his own, a fire he had long thought extinguished roaring back to life. As Tamanna's hands unbuttoned his shirt. Hemant removed her pallu , revealing more of her glowing milky skin to him. He didn't hesitate a second to attack her neck with his mouth. Tamanna started to loose clarity as she was quickly being pushed to their mutual sensuous foreplay. His mouth was unforgiving. Hemant's vulnerability no longer exist , now Michael King's raw sensuality has become a part of him.

And Tamanna didn't complain one bit , as his mouth latched onto her skin. She basically whimpered when he sucked on the top portion of her cleavage. She always desired him and right now at the moment , it felt like he will most likely be too much for her to handle. Eventually Hemant's shirt was stripped and he managed to strip off her blouse revealing a white bra. Her peeticoat was a hard part as both of them giggled when they struggled to remove it. Eventually Tamanna stood there in just her panty while Hemant still had his pants on.

Hemant pressed his lips against hers, forcing his tongue far into her mouth. He kissed her long and he kissed her hard, pressing his bulge against her panty covered crotch, letting her know that he was yearning for her, he craved her and he wanted her. Her heart fluttered at the passion that was in his kiss, and her inhibitions dropped. As he kissed her, Hemant ran his fingers up the inside of her soft thigh, sliding them into the side of her panties. In no time, he found her slit. She was soaking wet. He ran a finger up her sopping wet lips and she sighed into his mouth.

He teased over her clit with his finger as he gradually broke the kiss, lips smacking. He grabbed the waistband of Tamanna's skimpy white panties and tugged. He easily slid the dainty things down her smooth legs and she pulled her feet out of those. He caught his breath. Before him was that beautiful pussy of hers. A treasure trail of neatly trimmed pubic hair led to the swollen lips of her cunt. They were pressed together, quivering, beckoning.

Tamanna placed her feet on the counter and curled her toes over the edge, giving herself to her lover. Hemant slid his warm hands down the outside of her thighs to her ass as he knelt before her. He kissed her sensitive lips and he heard her suck in her breath. His tongue darted out and he slowly licked from the bottom of her slit up to the top, tasting her wonderful juices.

"Ahhh…" 

She sighed, her hand going behind his head and holding him in place as she leaned back a bit on the kitchen counter. Hemant slid his tongue deep into Tamanna's pussy, twirling it around inside, driving her wild. He ran his tongue along the top of the inside of her tunnel as he pulled it out of her, and she wriggled her toes with pleasure. He sucked her delicious lips into his mouth, keeping them trapped there as he teased over them with his tongue. Tamanna could not help but writhe her crotch into his face as he licked her mercilessly. He sucked hard on her lips, pulling them outward before slowly releasing them. She moaned again, softly as his tongue teased up her pussy ever so slowly. When he reached her clitoris, his tongue danced around it. He nudged it every so often as he licked a circle all around it. Each time his tongue glanced off it, she gasped, bolts of pleasure firing up her body. Suddenly, Hemant sucked her clit into his mouth, quickly releasing it.

"AAAHHH!" 

She cried, twitching before him. An orgasm quickly rose within her. She knew it wouldn't take much more. Placing his mouth around her sensitive nub, he ran his tongue up and down over it lightening quick, over and over. Pleasure surged through her, rising more and more until…

"AAAHHHHHHH…" 

She gasped, cumming violently. She was rubbing her pussy against his face as he licked her relentlessly. Her heart felt like it would explode, her entire body was tingling. He wouldn't stop licking her! She finally had to push his head away from her before she was overcome! 

Smiling, Hemant stood up as the woman recovered from her massive orgasm. Tamanna was looking at him with pure passion as she tried to catch her breath. She watched him undo his pants and push them, and his underwear, down to his knees. She caught her breath at the sight of his beautiful, rock hard cock as he set it free. Her feet subconsciously slid wider along the edge of the counter as he stood between her legs. She lay back on her arms and watched him submissively as he aimed that fat head of his at her swollen, quivering pussy.

Both of them looked at each other as her pussy lips parted and slowly allowed the top of his penis inside. He heard her sigh as he felt her warmth grip him. He pushed until half of him was in her, before her tightness would allow no more. Hemant pulled back a little, the light was reflecting off the shaft of his penis as it was coated with her juices. He pushed forward again and this time his entire organ slipped inside Tamanna's needy vagina. Her eyes went wide feeling him in whole. Both of them stared at each other for a moment with their breaths stopped in their union.

"AHHH…" 

She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, enjoying that wonderful feeling of being filled up. He was sheathed inside her, and he placed his hands on either side of her feet and began to slide his cock in and out of her. 

"Ohhh wow..…" she moaned. 

"Hemant....this is....Ahhhh!" 

His penis was gliding in and out of her welcoming vagina.

He grabbed her ankles, holding her feet in the air as he fucked her gently. She felt so incredible , so tight, so hot, so snug around him. Holding her ankles up like that gave him the perfect angle for his manhood to enter and exit her pussy over and over. His gaze was locked on her eyes and her beautiful face as body focused on the action between her lovely thighs.

Tamanna was looking back at him as his wonderful cock was sliding into her repeatedly. Her eyes locked into his gaze. She smiled. He slid his arms underneath her back, pulling her upright. His lips were on hers, roughly, and she put her arms around his neck, holding him close. Her feet landed on his thrusting ass as he began to fuck her a little harder. She broke the kiss.

"Ahhh! mmnh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!" 

Moans escaped from her lips as her dream man thrust into her repeatedly. She slid her well-manicured hands down his body to his ass, where they gripped him loosely, pulling him into her. Hemant began to screw her harder, fucking with long hard thrusts. He went in so deep! Her heart rate was rising and she was starting to pull him towards her with a lot more urgency. She was panting, feeling an orgasm rise. Her feet were flailing helplessly behind him as he jackhammered into her right there on her kitchen granite.

The familiar tingling in her pussy rose and rose and rose until it exploded full force within her. 
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!" 

Tamanna cried, grabbing onto him for dear life. Despite being squeezed quite hard, Hemant still managed to fuck Tamanna as hard as he could, sliding his meat into her hungry, quivering pussy. He was losing it already. He could have taken his mind off the incredible sex that he was having and prolonged things a few more minutes, but he knew that they didn't have a whole lot of time to begin with. Besides, she was just too fucking hot at this moment with her pale skin shining with sweat. The big man leaned over her, pistoning into her even harder, looking straight into her eyes. She had a look of pure ecstasy, her eye lids were half closed, her eyebrows raised. She still hadn't fully recovered from her orgasm. Planting his hands on the counter he drove his hard cock into her as hard as he possibly could, well on his way.

"Ohhhh I'm gonna cum Tammu!!" 

Hemant groaned, organ gliding in and out of her tunnel lightening quick. Thrills went up her spine at his words, and she found herself craving his semen inside her pussy. Her cunt seemed to grow hotter at the thought of him ejaculating inside it. She grew more excited than ever as this will be the completion of their union.

"Ahhhh Hemant, give it to me!" 

Tamanna moaned erotically, her hands pulling his ass towards her over and over. 

"Make me feel you inside me!!!! AHH!!!" Tamanna cried.

That did it to him. Hemant rammed his cock in and out of her a few more times quickly before sliding all the way into her welcoming hole.

Time stood still.

In a microsecond and an eternity he looked deep into her gorgeous eyes, his penis encased in the warmth of her vagina. His lips were on hers and he kissed her passionately, all the emotions and pleasure he had for her was exemplified in that kiss. His cock jerked, and a thick load of his seed shot hard into her, shooting off the back of her womb in powerful hits. Her eyes went wide feeling his powerful canon shooting inside her as her hands held his ass tightly, keeping him far inside her. His penis pulsated again, another hot stream of cum shooting forth deep inside Tamanna's vagina. Her breathing struggled on the velocity his blobs of cum hit her inside walls , sending the greatest feeling of pleasure feeling all over her body as he was completely lost in his mighty orgasm. More of his sperm emptied into her as his dick continued to jerk inside her.

Finally, as he gasped for breath, the last of his cum trickled into her welcoming cunt. Smiling, she kissed at his lips as he tried to recover. His penis softened inside her, but she continued to hold him close, not letting him get away. As their sweaty body was recovering from their passionate union. Hemant kept rubbing her face keep staring at her as Tamanna was still enduring his cumming. It took a long time for him to eventually stop as spurt after spurt of cum kept on firing until the last drop. Tamanna sighed from enduring that as she finally broke the silence.

"Wow....you came a lot!!"

"I am sorry....its been a while"

"Please Hemant...don't be sorry....its just....we needed this"

"I know....I never knew....but right now I am sure.....I definitely needed this"

As their foreheads joined , they shared their deep breaths on each other. That is when Hemant noticed that Tamanna's legs were still wrapped around him. Hemant rubbed her thighs as he spoke.

"Tammu.....pull your leg"

"Why?"

"Well....if you don't pull...how can I pull out"

"Who said I want you to pull out right now!"

Hemant was stunned by her response.

"Goodness woman.......you seem to be a bit.....worked up..."

"Not worked up.......being comfortable.....being fullfilled to be with my dream man today"

"Was I that good?" Hemant asked teasing.

"Good is an understatement lover.....I've felt things at this moment that I've never felt in my life!!"

"Hmm....so how long will it take for Shraddha and Chaitali to get home?"

"They won't be home until evening......and the guest room is right there!"

Hemant smiled at her insinuation as he lifted her nude sweaty form and carried her to the bedroom with his cock still buried in her.

Some time had passed as silence covered Tamanna's apartment. Both Hemant and Tamanna's clothes lay there on the floor near the Kitchen counter. But things between them were far from over. They were going at it for quiet some time now , what was once a calm and quiet guest bedroom in Tamanna's apartment had became the testament of worked up emotions and fantasies that laid buried for years since their college days. Now there was no Sanjana , no Sonarika. Just Tamanna and Hemant , her favorite man , the man she desired. He was now giving her orgasm after orgasm. She already had her third getting filled by him all three times by Hemant. But neither of them were done , definitely not Hemant. He had a lot of worked up tension , plus it was also the moment he finally let go the man that held back and supressed himself. This was the Hemant who embraced himself , vowing to never again hold back and he did that happily on his woman right now. 

And that was the part Hemant loved the most , this incredible woman before him. When he met her today , she looked radiant with bright face and glowing skin. Now her pale texture was overlapped by sweats everywhere around her body. Her little makeup was long ruined , her eyes were dim and she had the best slutty face covered in sweat. Her rosy nipples were worn out and covered in his own saliva. And she was now riding him , enjoying the feeling of Hemant buried in her!

"AHH.....AHH....AHHH......AHH..."

Tamanna maintained her rhythm of slow, tight thrusts, making sure to work the whole length of his cock  as she gripped and worked him with her muscles, keeping him rock hard and eager for her, feeling him push up against her every time she pushed back down onto him and gave a little internal shiver of pleasure as he pushed deep. Her hands pinned him down to the bed, keeping control even though he'd never fight her for it now, just letting her do her thing to their mutual pleasure as she worked her silky pussy up and down his shaft. She was still turned on by the multiple orgasms and the sea of cum he has already deposited in her as she dug her fingernails into his shoulders, pushing down harder to make him grunt but keeping the same slow, meticulous pace as she fucked him. The bed bounced beneath them as she shoved her ass down against him, her gorgeous pale white ass jamming into his thighs as she buried him inside herself, thick cock probing deeply inside her so the bulbous head thumped against her cervix as she shuddered.

"AHH....Hemant....you're already getting me there........Mhmmm" 

Tamanna grunted, eyes closing as she let out a deeper, harder breath, riding harder still to make the bed shake under them, loving how she made it move and how Hemant stretched her out. His hands gripped tightly at her hips to haul her down into him, his own breaths hard and fast now as this stunning woman gave them both what they needed. She reached down and pulled his hands from her hips, directing them up onto her small but fantastic perky tits without even looking down at him, feeling him immediately squeeze and caress her once more, loving her chest and relishing the chance to get his hands on it more even though she'd never stopped him. With her hips free she started riding harder, picking up the pace a little and shoving down as hard as possible on him, feeling her climax bubbling up as she took what she needed and ground into him, rolling her hips back so he could stimulate her G-spot a little more as she rode intently. His hands squeezed and groped her breasts, feeling the firm flesh and hard nipples poking into his hands, letting his fingers pull back to tease at them as she moaned in pleasure to urge him on.

Tamanna's expression got more serious as she carefully leaned back on him and rested her hands on his legs, making him crane up a little to keep his hands on her chest as she started working her hips hard and fast, not able to get him as deep but slamming her ass against his thighs as she thrust him against her G-spot, pulling up dangerously high on him before shoving down every time, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she chased her orgasm, his own climax imminent but he held it back as he wanted to make her come. Tamanna rode hard, up and down with rolls of her hips, pussy still squeezing firmly at Hemant as she stimulated herself intensely and gave him a fantastic view of her lithe, toned body leaned back, spread before him to show her tits, shapely stomach and perfectly smooth pussy as it wrapped around his cock. Bouncing hard, Tamanna lifted a little too high and he popped out of her, the woman gliding down his underside as he sprung back.

Tamanna breathed frustratedly, not in the mood for it right then as she instantly grabbed his cock and pushed him back to her pussy as she lifted up, letting her ass sink again to bury him inside her to continue riding. She rode harder and faster now, quicker, thrusts not as hard but so much more hungry as she chased her pleasure for a few final seconds but she gave a tense and telltale shudder, body tightening up in the midst of her pre-orgasmic state. Her knees trembled and closed on him before she gave a few last, rapid bounces and came hard. 

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

Her hands grabbing his legs hard as she shook, body shaking intently as she gave a shuddering gasp, stomach tightening as her body tried to curl up on the massive pleasure wracking it, emanating from her pussy as she clenched hard on his cock, Tamanna giving long, slow pulls up him after each hard shove down, her pace slowing drastically as she tried to absorb all the pleasure she could. With her climax and his job completed, having aimed to make sure she had an orgasm, his own body waved the white flag and let his own climax wash over him, cock stiffening rock hard inside her to make her murmur as she chased the last few thrusts of pleasure. His hands dropped from her tits and grabbed her hips tightly, holding her in place and pumping up rapidly into her, the woman whined in overwhelmed pleasure as his manhood ground into her sensitive body for a few seconds of fast, short pumping before he yanked her down as deep as he could and exploded inside her. Tamanna groaned with satisfaction as she felt his canon unleash, his cock jerking and shooting thick blobs of cum inside her, a final stretch as she flung herself forwards over him and kissed him deeply, their tongues meeting, his hand pulling up around her smooth back as he pulsed repeatedly to empty his balls inside her, deeply into her womb.

Silence was only broken by their heavy breaths, hearts pounding in the wake of a very satisfying final fuck session as they lay together on the bed, Tamanna's head over his shoulder as they recovered, still interlocked. It was a minute or so before they moved, just taking time to enjoy the moments after climax before she pushed herself up and carefully rolled of him, his softening cock sliding from her slick pussy.

As they lay there , now sheets covering their nude forms. Tamanna moved towards Hemant and places her head near his chest. Hemant wrapped his hand around her as they continued recovering from their intense sexual copulation that lasted multiple sessions.

Due to the sudden relief and the workout with the sex sessions , Hemant ended up passing out for a while. And while he was passed out , he was no longer seeing a dream. In fact , he was actually recaping a forgotten night of pleasure in a life that he recently revoked into him. 

It was a random night in London , at the height of his relationship with Ashnoor. The young girl was something else. Ever since taking her virginity , Hemant and Ashnoor had a hard time keeping their hands off each other. And Ashnoor , she was like a girl going crazy in her tumultous teenage years. When she learned that Hemant and Kira were close physically before her , she had a reaction. But at the same time , the curiosity of the teenager brough out some interesting scenarios. For Hemant , Ashnoor had that similar posessive nature Sanjana used to have. But due to her flamboyant teenage life , she didn't hesitate in expressing it. That night was one of those nights.

When she got drunk and made out with her boyfriend slash big daddy Michael King who was at the time just a few years older than her. Being raised in the college life of London really made Ashnoor really open herself. So even though she was pissed with the reveal that Hemant and Kira were intimate in the past. That night she was turned on. And Michael? He really thought his heart was going to break that night when he saw Ashnoor and Kira kissing. But he found instant relief when Ashnoor grabbed his face and kissed him , as she said.

"Come on Mike? Lets show this bitch what she lost in her life forever!"

Ashnoor was definitely drunk but she had the habbit of going edgy many times. When all three of them ended up in her apartment that night , Mike didn't expect this night to go like this. The part where both him and Kira were sucking on Ashnoor's breasts still logged in his brain. And it wasn't just because of Ashnoor's impressive young busty breast , but the seductive stare Kira gave as she sucked the boob looking at Michael while her hand was jerking is dick was something he could never forget.

And that was just the beginning , what followed was something that would even put the Kaama Sutra to shame. Ashnoor had set up rules for their special night , one being that Michael and Kira could never kiss , unless it was threeway. And Hemant would only cum inside Ashnoor so that Ashnoor could rub to Kira's face that she will be the one who will forever be creampied by him. But as things developed it definitely became a threesome with Hemant and Kira taking turns fucking Ashnoor. 

She grabbed her by the shoulders and the two of them fell back onto the bed. Ashnoor fell on top of Kira, who momentarily wrapped her legs around her as they started kissing again. The two of them made out for another moment, Kira's hands groping Ashnoor's tits, before they pulled away.

"Ok, lift yourself up," Kira said as she pulled Ashnoor by the hips, "Like this."

Ashnoor crawled up a bit, straddling Kira above her stomach and then bending back over. As Michael watched he realized when Kira was doing, and she made sure he understood when she spread her legs. Ashnoor and Kira were neatly arranged so Michael could either fuck Ashnoor doggystyle, or fuck Kira with her legs spread. As he closed in, both Ashnoor and Kira moved their heads to watch, and Ashnoor lifted her hips just a bit more. For a moment Michael was struck with indecision, but as he stared at Ashnoor's thick ass and her glistening pussy, he knew he had to go back to her first.

Ashnoor cried out as Michael shoved himself back in. Kira wrapped her hands around Ashnoor's waist, and then slapped both of them onto Ashnoor's ass as Michael started fucking her. Ashnoor arched her back and craned her head up toward the ceiling. She was letting out joyous moans, that were almost like giggles, and Michael realized from where Kira's head was at that she had her mouth on Ashnoor's nipple.

Michael pulled out of Ashnoor and dropped his hips lower before sinking his cock back into Kira. She moaned, and Ashnoor moaned as it just made Kira tighten her lips around Ashnoor's nipple. Michael started to thrust down into Kira, with Ashnoor's ass hitting his stomach at every thrust. Ashnoor moaned again, and he watched her squirm her way higher again, getting her pussy back onto Kira's face. Kira locked onto it hungrily, and with the newly made room on her bottom half she lifted her legs up. Michael gripped them both by the ankles and put them on his shoulders, bending them back a little as he kept slamming his cock into Kira.

Ashnoor rode Kira's tongue a minute or so, and then turned around on her face. Kira kept her tongue working, but now Ashnoor also had a perfect view of Michael's cock sliding into Kira. He made a show of pushing into Kira harder, and then Ashnoor leaned down, opening her mouth. He pulled out of Kira and shoved it between Ashnoor's lips, fucking her mouth a few thrusts before he went back to Kira. Ashnoor accompanied him, bringing her mouth down to Kira's pussy to lick her clit. The two of them brought Kira to another hard, fast orgasm, illustrated by Kira announcing it from back between Ashnoor's legs.

After Kira came again, both of them took their mouths to his cock. They took it in rapid turns sucking it down or having him fuck their mouths, until Kira looked up at Michael during Ashnoor's turn.

"Go ahead, she's your girl now. Make her yours , cream her up!!!!" 

Kira said while Ashnoor looked up, mouth halfway down his cock. Michael nodded and pulled Kira back down to continue the share. There were a few more back and forth between them before he really started to feel close. Michael pumped into Kira's mouth a few more times, and then grabbed Ashnoor.

The scramble of what happened next was a blur. Ashnoor somehow wrapped her legs around Michael and climbed onto him as he shoved his cock back in. But he was also holding her off the bed, and then pressed her against one of the bed posts, which she reached up and grabbed behind her head as he started thrusting into her. Kira appeared behind Michael, pressing her body into him and insuring he was sandwiched between her and Ashnoor in that moment. Ashnoor cried out as Michael railed into her pussy. He groaned and gritted his teeth as he got close. Kira giggled and touched every inch of skin she could, verbally cheering Ashnoor on. And then Michael completely lost it. He started cumming into Ashnoor's pussy as he pulled her hips into him. She went wide eyed and moaned into the ceiling. Kira leaned in and started kissing his neck while her arms reached around and fingernails dug into his chest. And in that moment, Michael was pumping cum into Ashnoor's pussy
Michael couldn't stop, as he fucked the rest of his orgasm into Ashnoor. Kira witnessed and felt all of it, and was grinning as she ran her mouth and her tongue along his neck and shoulder. Ashnoor was too busy hanging on and crying out at first. He could still hear her calling his name.

"MIKE..........MIKE.....OHHHH MIKE!!!!"

"Hemant?"

That was the call that brought him back to reality from that memory. He was no longer in Ashnoor's flat , he was at Tamanna's guest bedroom as she was standing wearing a simple singlet and pyjamas as she smiled looking at Hemant. Her hair was wet , indicating she just showered and made Hemant realize that he slept.

"Did I pass out?" Hemant asked curiously.

"We both did. I brought your clothes here. Put it on and come to kitchen for some coffee"

Tamanna said giggling as she walked away. Hemant wore his clothes and arrived at the Kitchen counter where this whole thing began. He too smiled as he took coffee from her hand and sipped.

"Cannot believe we're drinking coffee from the same spot we undressed each other!"

"I know , never knew I could lost control this fast" Tamanna confessed.

"You and me both"

Both of them smiled as they enjoyed the coffee , bringing life to their bodies that were drained from their activities. Eventually Hemant asked.

"So.....was it good?"

"Good?"

"Yeah?"

"Good doesn't even comprehend the word......let me give you some context"

"Okay?"

"Remember the second Valentines Day weekend where you and Sanju were going to make up for the delay?"

"Yeah?" Hemant nodded remembering some of the details Dheeraj provided long back.

"Well , I had stayed with Monisha that night. The dorm next to Sanjus. Some people didn't knew this thing about Monisha , that she was a closetted lesbian"

Hemant was stunned , now this was new information , something Dheeraj was unaware of as Tamanna continued.

"And when I say Lesbian. She was not the sensitive type. She was quiet masculine and liked doing it like a man"

"Interesting"

"Now , when I learned about your relationship with Sanju , I went nuts and made some terrible decisions. Me loosing my virginity was a terrible experience. So Monisha kind of came as a balm and relief at that moment"

Hemant calmly listened to more to this persepctive as Tamanna continued.

"But even she didn't knew I agreed because I wanted to be near you. That night I made love with her. She had a dildo strap on and she knew exactly how to use it , just like a man with his meat. Even though she did a fabulous job , my attention was on the other dorm"

Hemant grinned as Tamanna blushed as she continued.

"My hand was on the wall and I could feel the tremors caused by the moving bed in that dorm and I let Monisha's strap on play the role of your dick , something I've never seen , never felt. But after today , I can finally tell you...."

Tamanna closed the distance between them as she whispered to Hemant's ears.

"Her dildo did a terrible job...."

"Is that so?" Hemant smugged as he retorted 

"Hemant , you did things to me I've never experienced. And you took me to a place I never went. And more importantly , you fucked me so good that I passed out!"

"I did too....so the feeling is mutual!"

"All this time I had some expectations about our moment.....and you....exceeded far beyond that....to finally be with you....to become intimate......and quiet literally to be wonderfully fucked by you......I have to say I feel more liberated!"

"I definitely feel liberated too.....its been a while since I.....went all out.....with no restraints"

"Wow.....so....Sonarika?"

"Yeah....what I did.....never did that with her.....always held back....worried that I might....become my past"

"I understand Hemant....I mean when Shraddha said you were hitting those goons with some sword and when I saw the bodies.....I realized that you are something more......terrifying....but still I knew for a fact that you saved Shraddha not just because of your goodwill.....but for me..."

Hemant twitched a little knowing the danger that followed with embracing Michael King back. As Tamanna caressed his face getting on his lap.

"I know you said you've lost faith in love. And its unfortunate. But know this Hemant , whatever this shadow is , you have control over it. It doesn't control you"

"How do you know that Tammu?" Hemant asked.

"Because I've slept with that man......and I know his might now.....he is strong....and he is powerful..."

Tamanna whispered as she started to grind her hips on him awakening his worn out penis again as Tamanna continued.

"And he has not only shown me the stars in the bed.....he showed me the universe!!"

Hemant giggled a little as he said.

"You're not good for my ego Tammu....I might end up becoming a lady killer!"

"Then how is this for your ego....remember Sandeep?"

"Yup....your definitely killing my boner now!"

"Maybe your boner will like what comes next....you see....remember how I said he was so posessed about you.....like he wanted validation that he was better than you!"

"Yes I remember...."

"Well.....here this from me....judging by what I did with him at that stupid boat....and the amazing things I did in that bed.....Sandeep.....doesn't even hold a candle to you Hemant!!"

"Really..."

"He is just a fickle...insecure....a wanna be Alpha....and you Hemant....you're not an Alpha.....you're beyond that...."

Her lips almost rubbed his , their breaths hitting each other , Hemant feeling her hot breath.

"To me Hemant.....when it comes to sex.....you're a God!"

"mmmmm....Tammu..."

"I know Hemant.....I think you need my pussy right now.....judging by your meat poking me down there"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Then one second!"

Tamanna instantly untied the thread of her pyjamas as she removed it , explosing her pussy. Hemant could see her nipples were pointy hidden beneath those singlets. Her wet pussy was a treat for his eyes. It was nothing compared to what would come next.

"Ahhhhh!" 

Tamanna moaned as she guided Hemant's hard cock past her cunt lips. He dug his fingers into her butt as the beautiful woman once again continued to impale herself on his cock. She was so tight that it was difficult for him to remain focused. 

"Tammu, you feel so good!!" 

Hemant told her as he helped guide her up and down his cock. Her pussy was surprisingly still tight but worn out that it made the friction that much slick. He pulled their mouths together and they kissed passionately as Tamanna's milky figure continued to rise and fall on his cock. He ran his hands up and down her back, wishing that he could rip this singlet off and touch her warm skin. Her hard nipples were poking through her singlet, making him yearn to suck them. Even though they were small and perky , it was definitely full of life!

"Ahhh fuck!" 

Tamanna groaned as her pussy tightened, nearing orgasm. Hemant kissed her hard as his hands groped her butt. Her groans intensified as he slid his index finger around her opening collecting some of her juices. Hemant placed the wet digit at the entrance of her bottom and quickly felt Tamanna quiver.

"Please! Put it in my ass." 

She looked at him with an intense gaze. Hemant pushed his finger against her rear and fingered her ass at the same tempo that Tamanna was fucking him. 

"Ahhh, Hemant!AHHH!" 
Tamanna shouted as her pussy and ass both clamped on his cock and finger. 

"Don't stop, don't stop! Don't fucking stop!" 
The woman begged him as she continued to fuck herself mercilessly on his cock. Hemant grit his teeth hoping that her orgasm would pass. He was so close to the edge.

"Tammu! I'm so close, soooo close!" 
Hemant told her as he felt the cum churning in his balls waiting for nothing more than release.

"Cum in me! Please fill me!" She moaned as she wrapped her arms tightly around his head.

"Ohhh TAMMMUUUU!!!!" 

Hemant moaned as he felt his cock explode again and fill Tamanna's worn out pussy with cum all over again. He couldn't believe the tremors running up and down the length of his spine despite multiple fucking sessions. Tamanna had her hands on his face, her eyes staring straight into his as the orgasm intensified with each passing moment. 

"Tammu" Hemant said softly once the orgasm had run it's course.

"Yes?" She asked with a smile.

"You're amazing." He told her before kissing her. 

"I know , now take me to the shower so that we can freshen ourselves up before Shraddha and Chaitali comes home"

Hemant accepted her command and carried her semi nude body along with his to the bathroom of the guest bedroom.


                                                                                                                                                                              (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                    (CHAPTER CONTD)

FEW DAYS LATER




Hemant Kumar sat in his office at YOD Industries, leaning over the polished table where the blueprints from ANVIL lay spread out. His eyes narrowed as he traced the intricate details of the custom handheld weapons, his mind running calculations, risks, and opportunities. The hum of the AC vent and the faint metallic scent of oil from the nearby factory floor kept him grounded in the present—until a soft knock broke his focus. Raquel stepped in with his usual easy smile, hands clasped behind his back. 

"Bhaijaan" he said with warmth.

"I have a surprise for you"

Hemant raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. 

"Surprise? Raquel, unless it’s a shipment cleared through customs without headaches, I don’t have patience for riddles" 

But Raquel only chuckled and motioned for him to rise. Reluctantly, Hemant pushed himself up, curiosity pricking through his stern exterior. 

"You’ll see, Bhaijaan" Raquel said. 

"But this one… this one is for you, not for the company"

The two men walked through the glass doors of the office, stepping into the evening glow outside. Parked in the entranceway, a vehicle sat cloaked under a shimmering black cover, its shape unmistakably sleek. Raquel gestured toward it like a magician presenting his trick. 

"Go on" he urged. 

"Unveil it yourself" 

Hemant’s hand hesitated for a moment, then he gripped the fabric and pulled it away in one strong sweep. His breath caught. Before him stood a 2003 BMW E39 M5, gleaming in metallic green, its BMW emblem replaced with a fierce eagle sigil. For a long moment, Hemant said nothing. His eyes lingered on the sharp lines, the growl hidden beneath its hood, and memories rushed back—the streets of London, the fear in the eyes of criminals, the nights where Michael King reigned as shadow and hammer. 

"Is this the same car?" 

Hemant’s voice was softer than usual, carrying weight. Raquel nodded, pride flickering in his eyes. 

"Not the same one, Bhaijaan. This is built for Mumbai roads. Right-hand drive. Modern interiors. But it carries the same spirit"

Hemant turned to him, confusion and gratitude mixing. 

"Why give me this? Why drag Michael King out of the shadows?" 

Raquel stepped forward, lowering his tone. 

"Because Hemant Kumar is no longer just a man working contracts. You’re a magnate now. YOD isn’t just machines and factories—it’s an empire. And sometimes, an empire needs a symbol. That car was once your armor, your identity. Now, it’s your crown"

At Raquel’s signal, a line of young men stepped forward, all dressed in crisp formal attire, each bearing the YOD Industries badge. Hemant’s eyes narrowed. He knew them , they were the men that accompanied him in his rampage against Dilawar and Rafique 

"So these are our new recruits?" 

Raquel smiled knowingly. 

"Precisely, Bhaijaan. The men you wanted. Army rejects—court-martialled, dishonored, cast out. But they’re fighters, disciplined at their core. And every one of them knows the legend of Michael King. They’ll follow you, protect this empire, because you gave them a new home"

Hemant moved down the line, shaking hands, meeting each gaze with the weight of his presence. Some stood tall, some bowed with respect, but all of them radiated loyalty. Kamya, Vaibhav, and the engineers soon joined, their presence making the gathering feel like a mosaic of past and present. Hemant finally addressed them all, his voice firm yet fatherly. 

"Listen well. We are not a gang. I am not Michael King anymore. This is YOD Industries. Here, you don’t fight for streets, you fight for family—this family. Our strength will not come from fear but from loyalty and unity" 

As he glanced back at the emerald M5, his lips curved into a faint smile. For the first time, Hemant Kumar felt he could embrace both his past and his present—the vigilante’s shadow and the tycoon’s light.


FEW DAYS LATER AT DILAWAR'S COLONY


The colony still carried the scars of Dilawar’s rule—burned walls, shattered windows, and the faint smell of hopelessness clinging to the air. But today was different. Men and women were patching bricks, children were scrubbing paint onto old walls, and the sound of hammers echoed like a heartbeat of rebirth. Just as hope began to flicker, a screeching open jeep tore through the street. A group of thugs, loud and brash, stood tall in it. Their leader, a scar-faced brute, shouted. 

"Even though Dilawar and Rafique are gone, this colony is still ours! From now on, I run it!"

One of the residents, an elderly man with trembling hands, stepped forward. 

"We don’t want gangs anymore… leave us alone. Let us live" 

His words were brave, but fragile. The thug’s face twisted in rage. He stormed forward, slapping the old man so hard he fell into the dust. 

"Shut your mouth! No one can stop me. Not Law Enforcement, not another gang, nobody!" 

He roared, raising his boot to stomp the man. Nearby a child was listening to music just to bring some sort of joy in his life. He was listening to the recently trending Guns N Roses song from the Telugu Movie They Call Him OG. As the child was listening to the song , the ambience of it paved the way for what was about to happen at that moment in the Colony.

Rise For The Warrior



Bow To The Savior



Leader He Conqueror



King N The Lord



Rise For The Warrior



Bow To The Savior



Leader He Conqueror



King N The Lord




As the song kicked in. The growl of engines joined with it. First came an armored jeep, heavy, indomitable, its front painted with the YOD Industries insignia. Behind it, the low purr of a 2003 BMW E39 M5 with an Eagle sigil glinting on its front. Dust swirled as both vehicles rolled to a stop. The thugs faltered, exchanging uncertain glances, but tried to mask their nerves with laughter.


The armored jeep’s doors opened, and men poured out. Not ordinary men—each wore black armored uniforms stamped with the YOD logo, their weapons sleek and advanced, far beyond anything the colony had seen. They formed a line, rifles angled just enough to remind everyone who held power now. They didn’t move further. Instead, they parted. A silent corridor opened, waiting. The child held on to the music device as he watched the arrival in front of him.


He Not On The Tame



Burning Through The Blame



Raining On Flame



Winner In The Game




The driver’s door of the BMW clicked open, and Raquel stepped out, a shadow in tailored black. He adjusted his gloves, scanned the crowd, then turned to the rear seat. Without a word, he walked back and opened the door with deliberate slowness. A silence swept the colony. Dust rose as polished shoes touched the ground. Then, Hemant Kumar emerged.

Guns And Roses



They Gonna Be Vicious



The Devil Colored Glasses



Oh They Show You The Bruises



Guns N' Roses, We Got The Uzis



Gangsta (Gangster) Coming Walkin Through



The Firestorm, Rages



Guns N' Roses



Kicking The Asses



Rebel In The Black Tie,



Rebel And Roses



Guns N' Roses Wreckin Posers



Better Get You Runnin



Cause The Gangster Chases



He was dressed to command—red blazer over black, dark glasses hiding his eyes but reflecting the Eagle sigil on his car like fire. He didn’t glance at the thugs at first. His gaze swept the colony, the cracked walls, the bruised people, and the small child watching him with wide, mesmerized eyes , he looked at him like he was some Action Hero character in real life. Hemant adjusted his cuffs and walked forward as though the dirt feared to touch him.


His men stood guard as Hemant walked in through the walkway made by them. Near the car , Raquel stood and saw fragments of Michael King echoing through Hemant , admiring the way he carried himself. This is what he is , a Leader , a Commander , and all the more , a Savior.


"From this day, this colony will be under YOD Industries’ protection. Anyone who tries to poison it with crime or fear will meet deadly force" 

He turned his head slightly toward the thugs, his aviators glinting. 

"So Dilawar and his third favorite stooge can fuck off. Because this place will be following my orders to deal with sick stray dogs with lethal treatment!"

The scar-faced leader barked a laugh to hide his fear. 

"Treatment? You think I’ll bow down to you?!" 

He lunged at Hemant with a roar. But Hemant didn’t flinch. In one swift motion, he caught the thug mid-charge, lifted him, and slammed him down with a bone-shaking move, a brutal spinebuster that cracked the ground beneath. Dust exploded upward. The crowd gasped. The thug writhed, groaning. As the song played out in that child's music device. It's lyrics encapsulated Hemant's motivation at that moment perfectly.

(Telugu Song Verse Translated To English)

The cold rain is pouring heavily. Without shelter, I keep wandering in the storm.

Blood-soaked and exhausted, I endure the pain.





Shivering, trembling, my body breaks down.

The fire within me grows fierce and unceasing.





Darkness surrounds me, yet my blood keeps flowing.

I remain steadfast in my promise.





I walk through thorny paths without any fear.

No matter how lost the path may seem,





Nor how twisted the branches grow,

I will break through every obstacle that comes my way.





If the walls come close, I will bring them down.

I will stand and fight with all my strength and courage.



The other goons shouted and tried to rush in, but the YOD security raised their weapons in unison, unleashing warning shots into the dirt just inches from their feet. The sound rattled the walls. The thugs froze, eyes wide, courage broken. Some dropped their sticks, others stumbled back in terror. Hemant stood over the fallen leader, expression unreadable. 

"Raquel" he said calmly. 

"Call the harbor. Tell them to ready the boat. We’ve got fresh meat for the sharks"

The thug’s bravado shattered. 

"No—please! Don’t! I’ll leave, I swear! Please!" 

He begged as Raquel’s men tied him up and dragged him toward the jeep. The colony erupted in murmurs. Hemant finally turned to the people, removing his glasses. His eyes were sharp, filled with conviction. 

"No one here will live in fear anymore. From today, you live with pride and honor. YOD will protect you. We’ll build a college, create jobs, and form a committee run by you, the residents. Your children will grow with books in their hands, not chains around their necks" 

His words lit something in the crowd. Some wept openly, others shouted blessings. Hemant’s soldiers moved to set up a checkpoint, planting the YOD insignia like a new flag of justice. Hemant raised his voice one last time: 

"Dilawar is dead. His shadow will never touch you again. This is no longer Dilawar’s Kingdom" 

He paused, letting the silence stretch, then thundered: 

"From this day forward, this place is Azad Colony—the home of the free!" 

The cheers shook the air, louder than any gunshot. Children danced, elders folded hands, and workers picked up their tools with renewed fire. Hemant stood tall, the architect of freedom, watching the colony rise again. He greeted the happy residents who felt the release from suffering and slavery quiet relieving. Hemant patted some on their shoulders , held his palms in a namaste to great some old and female residents. He eventually reached the child that was listening to the song. He was captivated seeing Hemant and his grandeur as he approached the little child. 

"Hey Kiddo!"

The child was flabbergasted as he innocently asked.

"Are you......Rocky Bhai?"

Hemant giggled a little hearing such an innocent but preposterous question. He eventually responded.

"No , Kiddo. I am not. And I assure you , you don't want to be Rocky Bhai either"

Hemant kneeled in front of him and said.

"You're too young to understand all this but understand this young one. If you focus on your studies and physical self , you can be much much more than just Rocky Bhai.....you can actually change the world...."

The child listened to him with awe as Hemant concluded.

"So , I will very soon rebuild the college. I want you to study , make your mummy and daddy proud by being a good student and your friends happy by being a good companion. This colony will forever be your home!"

He hugged the kid and gave him a small gift of chocolate , he gleefully walked to his parents as Hemant joined the rest of the colony residents celebrating their freedom.


FEW DAYS LATER OUTSIDE MUMBAI , AT AIROLI


Hemant Kumar sat back in the lavish waiting room of REGALCORP’s towering complex, fingers drumming lightly on the mahogany armrest. The air was perfumed, expensive, but it reeked of excess. His eyes wandered to the wall, to the massive Mehta family portrait. The stern Hansraj Mehta at the center. Siddharth on the left, arrogant, youthful fire in his eyes. And then Pranitha on the right—her elegance radiating warmth that stirred something in Hemant. His gaze lingered longer than it should have. A flicker of longing, of unspoken tension. Then came the heavy thump-thump-thump of rotor blades, snapping him back into the present.


Through the glass façade, Hemant spotted the sleek Airbus ACH160 helicopter descending gracefully onto the private helipad. Siddharth Mehta emerged with his entourage, flanked by the imposing Gurmeet Chaddha. Hemant’s lips curled faintly. The showmanship didn’t move him. Rolls Royce waiting. Security detail choreographed like a stage play. It all smelled like desperation for validation. Minutes later, as Siddharth strode through his reception lobby, he noticed the green BMW E39 M5 parked outside. He let out a mocking laugh, loud enough for Chaddha to hear.


"A relic" Siddharth smirked. 

"And with an eagle crest instead of BMW’s? Trying too hard"


Chaddha chuckled, but Hemant heard the echo of arrogance even from inside. He leaned back in his chair, unimpressed, waiting for Siddharth’s little game to end. Fifteen deliberate minutes passed. Finally, the receptionist gestured. 

"Mr. Kumar, Mr. Mehta will see you now"


Inside the office, Siddharth greeted him with a polished smile. 

"Hemant Kumar" he said smoothly. 

"Welcome to REGALCORP Officially"

"Glad to be here Siddharth" Hemant said with a smile.

"Please , call me Sid"

"Okay Sid"

"Is it tea or coffee"

"Your choice , either is fine with me"

As the order for the tea went out. Siddharth had a casual talk with Hemant.

"You built YOD Industries from scratch and landed a government contract in less than a year. Impressive"

Hemant returned the smile. 

"Results matter more than applause, Siddharth"

"Indeed , but your growth has been quiet a spectacle. I mean , my father. He is not that easily impressed"

"I am honored"

"You know when Pranitha first introduced you. I really expected you to be a type"

"What type?"

"Uhh....you know....the supressing , yes man type.....I mean in all honesty , that is the kind of men she was involved with"

"Last I remembered , she married Yash , one of your friend circle and didn't exactly ended in a good note"

"Are you saying I am stupid?"

"No? Just stating the fact that not everyone person doesn't end up what you see. You thought Yash will provide a great future for Pranitha and in the end it was the worst decision for her"

"You seem to be a bit interested in my sister Hemant?"

"She was my first introduction to the Mehta Family. And also my first Mehta Family investment"

"The hospital? Please , that thing is a social service. Its a loss making fraternity"

"Some things are not meant for profits Siddharth"

"Tell me that when Sanjeevani would end up raising costs to stay open in the future"

"Don't worry about Sanjeevani or Pranitha. She will have help when she needs"

"Whatever , back to YOD Industries. The Indian Army is quiet impressed by your latest hardware to them"

"YOD works on efficiency and result. We work in getting the best results"

"Of course" Siddharth said, settling into his leather chair. 

"Which is why I think it’s time you step into the big leagues. REGALCORP has a need—five tons of Alignment Knots. YOD can deliver, yes?"

Hemant’s eyes narrowed slightly. He saw through it instantly. 

"Five tons? That’s not a deal, Sid. That’s sabotage. You know my resources, my scale. This is designed to break me"

Siddharth leaned forward, feigning mentorship. 

"Sometimes you have to take risks, Hemant. If you want to be more than a small-time supplier, you must gamble"

Hemant’s voice turned sharp, steady. 

"I already gambled when I started YOD. And I see through your intentions. So here’s my counter—either you take what I can provide, or you get nothing"

The silence was electric. Siddharth smirked, trying another angle. 

"You come here in an outdated BMW, flaunting nostalgia, and you dare lecture me? That car wouldn’t hold a candle to my Rolls"

Hemant’s lips twitched into a grin. 

"I prefer performance over statement. That old BMW represents my personal history and my drive to success and it can embarrass your million-dollar Rolls on any road, any day"

Chaddha’s eyebrow twitched. Siddharth’s smirk faltered. The jab had landed.

Finally, Siddharth exhaled, giving up ground. 

"Fine. How about a shipment of five thousand units of Alignment Knots. We’ll start there"

Hemant rose smoothly. 

"Wise choice" His voice carried the finality of a hammer strike. 

"Let’s keep business practical, Sid"

In the lobby, Raquel stood beside the green M5, suited sharp, posture crisp. As Hemant approached, Raquel opened the back door. 

"All good, Bhaijaan?"

Hemant slid in with a smug half-smile. 

"Siddharth’s bitten our bone"

Raquel chuckled, firing up the BMW’s engine as they rolled towards the complex’s massive gates. But just as they reached the electronic barrier, it refused to open. The guard muttered into his radio. 

"Malfunction, sir. Please wait" Hemant’s eyes flickered knowingly. Raquel frowned. 

"He’s trying to scare us"

"No" Hemant corrected calmly. 

"A pack of dogs is trying to scare a tiger. But they don’t know that this is my jungle now"

He pulled out his phone, dialing. Siddharth’s voice came cold. “Leaving already, Hemant?”

Hemant’s reply was sharper than steel. 

"Sid, you need to fix your security system. Once I’m gone" 

He ended the call without waiting for a response. Pressing a discreet button on his watch, Hemant watched as the massive gate groaned open by itself. Guards gasped. Siddharth and Chaddha froze inside, stunned. As Raquel drove them out, Hemant pressed the button again—the gates slammed shut. A tiger had left his mark. Siddharth furiously asked.

"I told you not to open the gate without my word"

Chaddha was confused from that whole fiasco as he responded.

"We never opened the gate sir. Our entire system was breached an hour ago. It was a sabotage , and actual Sabotage!"

Siddharth was stunned as he looked ahead , watching Hemant's ride disappear into the traffic in the distance. He murmured to himself.

"This Hemant Kumar is not who he seems"

                                                                                                                                                                                                            (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                (CHAPTER CONTD)

FEW DAYS LATER




Sonarika stood trembling in the corridor, her palm lingering over the room number plate that read – 1143. A part of her wanted to turn and flee, but her legs refused to move. The haunting memory of Dilawar’s hands on her skin still made her chest tighten with dread. And yet, she knew why she was here. She needed Vikram—the man who had once been her flame, and more recently, her savior. When the door swung open, Vikram filled the doorway, tall, composed, his eyes softening as they met hers. 

"Soni" 

Vikram whispered, as though even his voice feared startling her. Sonarika managed a nod, stepping into the familiar apartment. The air inside carried his scent—strong, grounding, protective—and her heart eased in a way it hadn’t in days. Her eyes immediately caught the wall in the living room. Dozens of photographs, frozen moments of stolen happiness—him kissing her cheek, her laughing against his shoulder, them kissing , them posing intimate, their secret little world. Once, those pictures had been daggers when she was trying to stitch her marriage back together. Now, they felt like a balm, crowding out Dilawar’s shadow from her mind.

She sank onto the sofa, clutching her hands together as if in prayer. 

"Vicky… I’ve been hurting" she confessed, her voice raw. 

"I shut Hemant out, ignored his touch. Every time he came near, I flinched. I could still feel Dilawar breathing down my neck. Even now, even healed, sometimes I swear I feel his nails scratching me"

Vikram sat beside her without hesitation, gathering her against his chest. His embrace was firm, unyielding, like an anchor dragging her away from the storm. 

"Soni, listen to me" he murmured against her hair. 

"No one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here. You’re safe with me. Always"

She closed her eyes. His warmth was real. His heartbeat beneath her cheek was real. Most importantly, she realized, she wasn’t recoiling. 

"Why don’t I flinch with you?" she asked, her voice small, almost childlike. 

"With Hemant, even when he just touches my arm, I tense. But with you… I don’t"

Vikram cupped her face, his thumb grazing her trembling lips. 

"Because this is your truth, Sonarika. Deep down, you know you don’t want him. You’ve always wanted me"

Her breath caught, but she shook her head gently. 

"No, Vikram. You’re wrong. My heart… it’s torn. Hemant is my husband, Karan’s father. But you—" 

Her voice cracked as tears welled. 

"—you’re the fire I run to. And I know now… your fire is the only thing that can burn away Dilawar’s ghost"

He kissed her then, without warning but not without tenderness. A kiss that started as comfort and turned into something deeper, more consuming. She melted against him, her fingers clutching at his shirt, her lips parting to let him in. Memories of their stolen nights here came rushing back, and she no longer fought them.

His hands traced the edge of her saree, hesitating for the briefest moment before peeling it away. She didn’t stop him. Instead, she lifted her arms, letting the fabric slip to the floor like an offering. 

"Don’t hold back" she whispered urgently, her lips brushing his ear. 

"Give me all of you. Take me to bed"

Vikram’s eyes burned with a hunger that was both protective and primal. Without another word, he scooped her up, carrying her to the bedroom. Clothes began to fall in careless abandon, each layer discarded with growing urgency. The apartment echoed with the sounds of fabric sliding, breaths quickening, the electricity of bodies remembering their rhythm.

On the bed, their lips met again, fiercer now, as if both were starving and had found the only food they craved. Sonarika clung to him, surrendering completely. 


Sonarika was on her back. Her long slender legs trembling violently, as though her muscles had turned to jelly. Her black hair fanned out behind her on the pillow. They were clinging to her forehead from sweat. Her limbs were folded tightly, clutching him. They were moving-- the fast feverish pace that can only come from rough sex. Not the kind of deep love making sex that Sonarika used to have with Hemant , where tender and safety were the atmost priority. This was the violent kind , because Sonarika knew Vikram won't hold back. He always took her roughly , carnally , it was an animalistic rampage. The sounds as the bed slammed the wall were tremendous. But not as jarring as the screams of pleasure that were erupting from Sonarika's mouth, or the grunts of triumphant satisfaction as Vikram took her.

Sonarika's wet slender arms and legs clung to him. Her feet locked together beneath his well shaped  thrusting butt. Her toes were curling. Her fingers dug into his back, as though she was experiencing their first time having sex all over again. But this time , Sonarika wasn't entirely involved just because of Vikram and his love. She enjoyed the moment right now because Dilawar no longer haunted her.

"Ahhhhh...... yessss…" 

Sonarika sighed, throwing her head back. Her hands grabbed his ass, her feet slid up the outside of his legs to the backs of his thighs. Her hands squeezed at his ass, urging him to fuck her. His lips found hers as he began to jackhammer the sensitive warmth of her pussy. Their tongues rubbed against one another as his cock pushed into her vagina over and over. They were breathing heavily into each other’s mouth as he began to move faster. She raised her feet up into the air, raising the blanket up high as his ass thrust hard between her legs.

"Ahh! Ahhh! Unh! Unh! Ahhh! Unh!" 

Sonarika moaned loudly , with no intention to keep it quiet. Her orgasm was rocketing towards her now, with nothing to stope her. The tingles were building, and building, and building.

"Ahh!" 

Sonarika squeaked, almost there. He pistoned harder in and out of her hungry pussy, driving her over the edge. 

"Ahhhhh...Vi...Ahhhh…" she whined, softly.

Her legs squeezed him tight, making it difficult to fuck her as wave after wave of orgasm washed over her. Her heart was pounding, and there were tears in her eyes. Her mouth kissed at him breathlessly, loving him, thanking him. Vikram’s big, warm, hard penis felt incredible so deep inside her like that!

"I love you" 

He breathed, kissing her mouth. Warmth flowed through her at his words, just as her orgasm was subsiding. His mere words made her cum just a little longer. Sonarika’s arms held him tighter and her legs loosened up a little, freeing him to fuck her a little harder. He began to pound into her, bouncing her ass hard off the bed. She was so tight, so hot around him. He didn’t know how much longer he would last.

"I’m gonna cum, baby" He gasped, thrusting harder.

"Give it to me!" Sonarika whined, softly. 

"Give me your cum, baby!" 

She kissed his cheek over to his ear, she could feel how hard he was inside her and it felt wonderful! She was breathing heavily into his ear, her arms around his neck now as he rammed his cock in and out of her.

"Cum for me, Vicky!" she whispered erotically into his ear. 

"I want to feel your cum inside me!!" 

Her words were pushing him over the edge, and jackhammered in and out of her as hard as he could.

"I need it Vicky!" Sonarika breathed. 

"I need to feel your cum inside my pussy!" 

That did it. He slid his hard penis all the way inside her vagina and held it there. He moaned, quietly, looking down at her. His cock jerked, firing his hot seed deep into Sonarika’s fertile womb. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, holding him close. Her arms were around his neck and she was kissing at his face as she gasped for breath. She could feel his manhood pulsate inside her, spraying the back of her vagina with his cum. His penis jerked again, another thick wad of semen shooting deep inside her. He was in heaven. Although in Sonarika's case , at that moment , she kind of missed the canon attack from Hemant , a small edge he has over Vikram. But she was finally contempt , as this amazing moment made her forget Dilawar and his cruel memory.

Vikram finally found the strength to kiss the woman who gave him the pented up relief after a long time. Their lips smacked loudly as they kissed breathlessly. He could feel the last of his seed trickling into Sonarika’s hungry pussy.

"Ahhhh...mmmm…" 

Sonarika sighed, kissing him over and over again. She caressed him lovingly with her toes as he remained inside her. She never wanted him out of her. Sex has always fun with Hemant. But what she had with Vikram, though, was beyond that. When he was inside her it put her on another plane of existence. Because Vikram never compromised, he has always delivered. Every time with him , he always switched gear and went more intense than the last time. To feel his cum inside her made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Sonarika truly felt that when Vikram ejaculated his seed into her , he was curing her of her nightmares as the moment only had her and him. He felt the same way. He felt as if his sperm was created to be given to Sonarika, and Sonarika only. It was as if destiny wanted this , and that is what he truly believes. As he softened inside her, neither wanted him to pull out.

Both of them wanted to make love again. And it was definitely going to happen , it was something Sonarika always expected with Vikram. There is never a single round. Eventually the makeout began and they started doing it in the doggy position. She wiggled her ass as he penetrated her pussy lips. He pushed more firmly.

"Aaahhhh" Sonarika groaned as his thick cock stretched her again.

"God Soni , how can you be so tight after that fucking!" 

Vikram breathed as he pushed forward again. Slowly, slowly he went until he was fully in. He paused. It was the longest pause ever. He dearly wanted to ram his cock in and out of her pussy but he had to give her time to adapt to his size.He pulled back and then slid forward. Slowly to start then with increased tempo. Then the passion took over. As he hammered into her, Sonarika thrust her hips back to meet him. She was fucking him as much as he was fucking her.

"Ahhhhh.....Ahhhh.....Vicky...Harder Vicky....Ahhhh" 

Sonarika groaned with each thrust as he continued to pound into her pussy.

"AHHHHHH VIIICCKKKYYY....... You make me feel complete!!!!!...AHHH..." 

Sonarika groaned as Vikram continued ramming his cock all the way inside her. His hands moved beneath her body to grope at her wildly swinging breasts. Once more the bed thudded loudly against the wall as he took her hard and she began to wail and squeal in her agony and ecstasy.

Each thrust was punctuated by his grunting, and hers in time with him, so that it was difficult to tell whose voice was whose.

"Unh..Ahhh..Unh...Nhh...." 

The sound enveloped the apartment, seemingly without end, the rhythmic cadence continuing, their bodies melting together.

"Ahhhh, VICKY......I missed your cock......give it to me...give me more" 

And Vikram did just that with his powerful cock, thrusting again and again with incredible stamina, with the two of them moving together in a dance as old as time.

Then without warning Sonarika let out a long screaming high cry the likes of which never heard before. 

"AHHHH!! I'm cummmmminggg baby. Cummm with me now aaaaahhhhhhh"

It seemed to go on forever. But Vikram ignored her request that he cum with her, just continuing to pound her right through her orgasm, never stopping, never slowing his rhythm, just continuing to fuck the woman, both of them grunting in time to his thrusts. The sunlight from the window was reflecting brightly off their shining sweat-soaked bodies, as they moved rhythmically together.

"AHHH....AHHH....AHH....AHHHHH" 

And then Sonarika's voice again took over in a crescendo of sexual desire. 

"Ahh, ahhhh, yessss.....aaaaauiiiiii........I'm cumming again, baby....Do it to me, do it, AHHH!" 

Sonarika's eyes closed as her lips pulled back from her teeth and her head thrashed back and forth as she screamed and pulled hard on Vikram's buttocks, pulling his huge cock deeply into her.

And with that began a second orgasm, even more earthquaking than the first. She began fucking back against his dick wildly, grinding her pussy into him. She was now completely used to the thick piece of meat, and began begging for him to cum inside her. Vikram was finally ready again to fill her up. Vikram continued fucking her at full speed, falling into her, and in doing so, entwining all of their bodies into a mass of sweaty flesh. Vikram was grunting into Sonarika's ear like an animal as the last drop of cum filled his massive balls. Then, he gave no warning, just erupted into her. Vikram's cry were similar to some old favorite horror creature features, when a human's scream who'd morph into a wolf's howl when they were becoming werewolves.

He emptied seemingly a bucket's worth of cum into Sonarika over the course of about 15 seconds, and collapsed onto her body. Their tongues embraced, and limbs slid together as if they were two snakes slithering.

It never ended there either. Their heighened mood and chemistry paved the way for another sex session. The rattling of the bed became the drumbeat of their reunion, their passion filling every corner of the room. For once, she wasn’t haunted—she was alive, burning, free. Her soft cries and his answering groans became their unspoken language. Time blurred as they moved together, not cautiously but recklessly, as though they had both been holding back for far too long. And when the final release came, it felt less like surrender and more like triumph—a cleansing fire that left no room for Dilawar’s shadow.

They collapsed side by side, drenched in sweat, the sheets tangled around them. Sonarika’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Vikram brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

"You’re safe now" he whispered again, softer, surer.

Sonarika turned her face into his chest, closing her eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt whole, no longer broken. 

"Yes" she murmured, curling into him. 

"With you, I believe it" 

The apartment was silent now, save for the faint hum of the city outside—and the steady rhythm of their hearts, finally in sync.

SOME TIME LATER

Sonarika sat curled against Vikram’s sofa cushions, the faint aftertaste of his cologne lingering on her lips. Her body still trembled from the fire he ignited in her, but her mind wrestled with the heaviness of guilt. She stared at the ceiling, almost afraid to look at him.

"Vicky…" she whispered, breaking the silence. 

"I’ve ruined Hemant all over again. I was trying so hard to fix what’s broken… and now, I’ve undone everything"

Vikram leaned back, his eyes following the nervous tremor in her hands. Vikram tilted his head, his eyes steady. 

"You’re not ruining him, Soni. Stop carrying that weight. You keep trying to save a marriage that’s already ashes. What you need to realize is simple—your future is with me, not him"

She clutched the sofa’s edge, shaking her head. 

"No. Don’t twist it. I never chose you over him. It wasn’t about love. It was about… survival. About Dilawar"

His name poisoned the air. Sonarika’s voice trembled. 

"Dilawar scarred me, Vicky. And even though the wounds healed, every time Hemant held me, I felt him again. I couldn’t stand it"

She turned her gaze to Vikram, tears pooling. 

"But you—your fire, your dominance—you didn’t let me remember him. You burned those shadows away. That’s why I came to you"

A smirk tugged at Vikram’s lips, though his eyes softened. 

"Never imagined you’d admit you like being dominated"

"I don’t" she said firmly. 

"I just… need a man strong enough to overpower the pain. Hemant’s tenderness brought the past back. But you, Vikram—you never held back"

His smile deepened, proud. 

"So… is this us now? More days like this? More nights?"

Her lips trembled. 

"Maybe. Maybe this is what’s best. Because I’ve pushed Hemant too far. I think I’ve lost him completely"

Vikram kissed her forehead. 

"Then let him go. You’ve finally chosen me"

But she flinched at his certainty. 

"Don’t you see? No matter how perfect we think we are, we’re villains in his story. I’m tearing Hemant’s life apart"

Vikram brushed his thumb against her cheek. 

"Hemant isn’t fragile. He’s thriving. YOD Industries is soaring. He’s not the broken man you’re imagining"

At that exact moment, at the neighbouring flat, Hemant sat across from Dheeraj. The chatter of business, contracts, and new ventures filled the room. Dheeraj slapped Hemant’s shoulder. 

"You should celebrate! YOD’s partnership with the Army and now REGALCORP—it’s insane. Forget your soon to be ex-wife, man. She’s history. Women like her don’t deserve men like you"


Hemant smiled politely, though his chest tightened at the word ex-wife. 

"Maybe. But… I’m not looking for love anymore. Just… companionship, maybe. That’s all"

Dheeraj chuckled. 

"Companionship? Ha! The old Hemant was a rockstar with women. Don’t tell me you’re becoming that side again. Isn't that the reason your marriage died, wasn’t it? You stopped being that person and become repressed."


Hemant’s jaw clenched. 

"Exactly. That’s why I’ll never make that mistake again"


Dheeraj poured hot water into two empty cups, only to discover his tea tin was empty. Clicking his tongue, he turned to Hemant with a grin. 

"Guess I’ll borrow some from Vikram next door. He won’t mind"

Hemant shook his head. 

"Don’t bother. We don’t need tea"

"Nonsense!" Dheeraj laughed, already standing. 

"You know me—I need my evening tea. Sit tight. I’ll be back"


The bell rang at Vikram’s door. Vikram rose, adjusting his shirt, and pulled it open. Dheeraj’s cheerful face appeared, eyes bouncing immediately from him to Sonarika.

"Ah, Vikram!" Dheeraj beamed. 

“Oh , your beuatiful lady is here. Hope I’m not interrupting something, eh?” His tone carried a teasing innuendo.

Vikram forced a smile, while Sonarika stiffened, her stomach dropping. 

"Not at all" Vikram said smoothly. 

"We were just… talking"

Dheeraj chuckled. 

"Good, good. I just ran out of tea powder. Mind sparing some?"


"Of course" Vikram replied. He handed the tin over, but then added lightly. 

"Why don’t you stay? We’ll make tea together. Have a chat"


Dheeraj waved him off. 

"Wish I could, but I’ve got a friend waiting. Tea’s for both of us"

"Then bring your friend" Vikram said suddenly, grinning. 

"We can all sit here. A casual double date, why not?"

Sonarika’s heart lurched. Her fingers dug into the sofa’s fabric. As soon as Dheeraj left, she turned on Vikram, whispering harshly. 

"Why would you say that? What are you doing?"

Vikram shrugged, confidence unshaken. 

"Because, Sonarika, if we’re going to be together, we can’t keep hiding. Let the world see us as we are"

Few seconds later , a knock came again. This time, two shadows stood outside Vikram’s door when it swung open. Dheeraj, cheerful as ever, and beside him—Hemant. Sonarika froze. The color drained from her face, her heart hammering against her ribs. Hemant’s eyes, calm yet sharp, locked onto hers. For a moment, time stopped.

"Vikram" Dheeraj said warmly, stepping in. 

"Meet my friend. This is Hemant—the rising business magnate, the genius behind YOD Industries"

Vikram’s throat tightened. Sonarika’s lips parted but no words came. Hemant only offered a faint nod, his expression unreadable.


"And Hemant" Dheeraj continued obliviously. 

"This is Vikram… and his special someone. Honestly, one of the best couples I’ve ever seen. Their chemistry is… unreal"


Sonarika’s knees nearly buckled. She wanted to scream at Dheeraj to stop, but the words wouldn’t form. Hemant’s gaze lingered on her, not with anger—worse—with quiet devastation.

Dheeraj carried on, grinning. 

"Sometimes, when I see them together, I wish Sonia and I could be like that. These two? They’re inseparable. I’ve caught them making out in the elevator, the hallway, even right here at the doorstep!"

A brittle silence followed his laughter. Vikram’s jaw tensed. Sonarika felt her insides collapse. Hemant’s face betrayed nothing, but his eyes flickered with a pain he couldn’t hide. And then Hemant’s gaze drifted—toward the living room wall. Dozens of photos hung in neat frames: Sonarika and Vikram in Bali, at Mumbai parties, in tender embraces, laughing, kissing. Each photo was a blade. But what gutted Hemant most was her smile—bright, unrestrained, alive. A smile he realized he hadn’t seen directed at him in years. Sonarika followed his eyes, and dread crushed her. 

"No" she whispered under her breath, too soft for Dheeraj to hear.

Dheeraj, still blind to the tension, chuckled. 

"Honestly, Hemant, aren’t they a sweet couple?"

Hemant’s lips curved faintly, though his eyes never left the photos. 

"Yes" he said evenly. 

"I can see that"

Sensing the strain, Vikram interjected quickly. 

"Dheeraj, why don’t you help me with the tea?"

"Of course!" Dheeraj said cheerfully, following Vikram into the kitchen.

The moment they went far to the kitchen, silence engulfed the living room. Sonarika turned to Hemant, her voice barely a whisper. 

"Hemant… it’s not what it looks like"

His eyes flicked to hers, sharp, wounded. He whispered back, harsh but quiet. 

"Don’t insult me with excuses. I can see the truth"

Tears welled in her eyes. 

"I only wanted to—"

"Enough" 

Hemant cut her off, his voice low and cold. 

"This morning, remember? I told you I’d be home late tonight. Plans have changed. I won’t be coming home tonight. Let  Karan know his papa has some important business to attend to"

Her chest cracked open. 

"Hemant, please—"

Again, he silenced her, his whisper burning. 

"You’ve made your decision. And so have I"

The sound of clinking cups in the kitchen pulled them back into composure. By the time Vikram and Dheeraj returned, both Hemant and Sonarika sat stiffly, their faces masks of calm. Dheeraj, still oblivious, beamed at Hemant. 

"You know, I admire you so much. Despite your divorce, you’re thriving. Honestly, your ex-wife doesn’t deserve you. She was holding you back. Now you’ve rediscovered yourself"

Every word stabbed Sonarika deeper. Hemant’s jaw tightened, but he let Dheeraj ramble until finally he said. 

"We should head out. You know I am only free till evening. We have bowling to attend"

As Dheeraj thanked Vikram for the tea, Hemant lingered a moment longer, his eyes scanning the photographs once more before settling on Sonarika. He gave her the faintest, most devastating smile—then turned and walked away. When the door shut, Sonarika collapsed onto the couch, sobbing, knowing the last fragile thread of her marriage had just snapped.

                                                                                                                                                                                                (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                           (CHAPTER CONTD)

THAT EVENING AT WANKHEDE STADIUM



The cricket stadium was roaring with chants, horns, and commentary, but Mrunal Thakur felt like none of it mattered. She sat in the plush VIP gallery seat, dressed elegantly for cameras, yet the monotony of the game bored her. Her phone became her escape—scrolling through social media, answering texts, checking promotions for her film. Every few minutes, she glanced at the field out of obligation, sighing softly as though counting down until freedom.


Then, a ripple passed through the air of the VIP lounge. A familiar figure walked in, tall and commanding even in his casual t-shirt and fitted jeans. Hemant Kumar arrived at the venue. He carried himself not like a spectator, but like someone who owned whatever room he entered. When his gaze swept across the lounge and landed on her, a flicker of recognition sparked. Mrunal straightened slightly, brushing her hair aside, surprised yet intrigued.


They exchanged greetings warmly. The last time they had spoken was during a Manish Malhotra bridal photoshoot, which gave boost to Hemant’s fame in the city as a Business Magnate. The memory returned quickly—the sharp way his eyes followed her during that shoot, how he made the silences between poses feel electric. Now, in this chaotic stadium, that current was back. Their small talk began innocently. She asked about his life, his travels, the responsibilities of managing an industrial giant. When the conversation drifted, she let her guard down and teased. 

"I heard you’ve been coaching Ananya Pandey at tennis. Should I be jealous?" 

Her eyes gleamed with playful challenge. Hemant smirked, leaning back in his chair 

"It was just a friendly gesture. Nothing worth your jealousy Mrunal"

Her voice lowered, almost conspiratorial.

"And what about the whispers that you and Pranitha Mehta are... close?" 

Hemant’s reply was calm, unwavering: 

"Don’t believe everything you hear. No one owns me, Mrunal" 

There was something in his tone—an assertion of independence—that made her pulse quicken. As the match dragged on, Hemant noticed her distracted demeanor. 

"You’re not into this game, are you?" he asked. She gave a small shrug. 

"It’s not even my favorite team playing. I’m here because I have to be" 

He studied her a moment longer, then leaned forward. 

"What if we did something… fun instead?" His eyes lingered on hers, a suggestion laced in his smile.

Curiosity mixed with mischief inside her. She hesitated, then nodded, almost surprising herself with the ease of her agreement. Hemant stood, gestured casually, and guided her away from the crowded gallery. Security nodded them through as they ascended toward the quieter upper decks. She followed, her heartbeat growing restless. When the doors opened, she gasped. The suite was unlike anything she expected—vast, silent, luxurious. A private space shimmered beneath soft lights, a bar stood stocked with vintage bottles, and a pool table lay at the center. Beyond the glass, the match continued with muted noise, but here, it was an oasis of privacy. 

"You booked this whole suite… for tonight?" she asked, half-amused, half-astonished.

Hemant’s reply was simple, almost daring. 

"Just for few hours......I thought you’d prefer real entertainment" 

His words hung in the air. Mrunal folded her arms, feigning resistance. 

"And what exactly are we supposed to do here?" she pressed. 

He stepped closer, his voice dropping: 

"You already know the answer"

She bit her lip, still testing him. 

"Aren’t you supposed to be Pranitha’s boy toy?" 

His eyes darkened with certainty. 

"No one controls Hemant Kumar" he said firmly. 

The conviction in his tone silenced her doubts. Then, with one decisive step, he claimed her mouth with his. The kiss burned away her hesitation, filling the room with raw chemistry. What began as tentative escalated quickly. Their lips moved hungrily, their bodies pressed close, hands exploring the familiar yet forbidden. The jerseys they wore in playful solidarity with the teams became the first casualties, peeled off with laughter and impatience. Denims followed, leaving them vulnerable to the heat rising between them. The distant roar of the crowd seemed like background music to their private spectacle.


They moved to the pool table, a surface that became their stage. Her fingers gripped its edges as his kisses trailed down her neck, sending shivers through her spine.


Hemant lifted her up and placed her on the edge of the pool table. She spread her legs and he took off her small black panty. The smell of her desire clouded the room instantly letting him know that she had been sexually charged as much as he had. Mrunal sat on the edge of the table with her legs spread wide. Hemant dropped to his knees and brought his tongue to her wet pussy instantly. She tasted so good and so much pouring out of her that he was wishing he could bottle it up and save it for later.

"Ahhh fuck!" 

Moaned Mrunal as Hemant circled his tongue around her clit. Her hands grabbed the back of his head and drove his head harder against her clit. He sucked the little nub in his mouth using his tongue to stimulate her as well. 

"WOW!!!!." 

Mrunal screamed as she started humping Hemant's face. He drove a finger into her soaping wet pussy and made her whimper even more. He used his tongue to lash her clit over and over again while his fingers pumped rhythmically in and out of her tight hole. Mrunal held on to his head tightly as she came hard on his tongue. Her juices pumped out of her and all around his mouth. Hemant sucked and licked greedily at all she had to offer.
He stood up and kissed her, letting her taste her own juices.

"You taste incredible." Hemant told her.

"I do. I see why you were down there like a starving man."

"I couldn't help myself" 

He told her before she undid his boxers and pushed it to the ground. His dick was hard and pointing right at her.

"I want to help myself to some of this." 

She said as she took off her bra and tossed it on a pile with her jeans and jersey. She grabbed his hand and led him to one of the couches. She pushed him down and straddled his hips. She kissed him once before holding on tightly to his neck and lowering her warm tight pussy onto his dick. She was not kidding. What followed next was the most amazing feeling Hemant has felt as his cock stretched her tight cavity. They took it slowly going inch by inch as not to hurt her. 

"AHHhhhhh, that feels so damn good." She whispered. 

Once she bottomed out she stopped moving; enjoying the feeling of fullness that she hadn't felt for quite a while. She slowly grinded her hips against him. Moving his dick around in her pussy. Trying to find a particular spot it seemed. Hemant kissed and sucked on her nipple forcing her to moan again and toss her hair all over the place. He grabbed her perfect ass and settled back for the ride as she began pumping up and down on him. Her warm pussy was making him feel so good as the walls of her cavern contracted all around his hard dick.

"AHHHH! Fuck!! I've missed this" 

Mrunal groaned as she sped up the pace. Hemant moved his hands all over her smooth and killer body. Enjoying every last inch of her. Outside the stadium was loud as the game continued to rumble beneath them. He picked her up and lay her down on the couch all without ever pulling his dick out of her. Hemant grabbed her ass and lifted her lower body towards him and brought his dick down hard into her. This caused his dick to hit against her G spot on every stroke which drove Mrunal crazy. Hemant was amazed at her bouncing tits. They were so perfect and firm. He gripped her hips and pounded into her at a much faster clip. He moved his hand and began rubbing her clit. 

"OHHH SHIT AHHHH, I'M CUMMING" 

He kept on going at her throwing his full power and weight behind each thrust. 

"AAHHHHHH!!!" 

She screamed out and came all over him and the couch they had been fucking on.

"Oh god! I haven't cum that hard in so long!" She said whipping the hair out of her face.

"We're not even done yet" 

Hemant picked her up and positioned her on all fours towards the big glass window. He reinserted his still hard cock into her pussy and smiled as she groaned sexily. Her ass was to be revered he thought as he banged the hell out of her from behind. It only took her a few strokes before she began timing herself to pump her ass back as he pushed his dick in. Hemant circled her body and grabbed both tits in his hands continuing to fuck her hard. 

"AH HEMANT! AHHH!!! I'm cumming again!" 

Hemant played with her clit again and that was enough to send her crashing to another orgasm. 

"AHHHHHHH!!!! YEEESSSSS!!!!!" 

She lay her head down on the ground and pushed her ass straight up into the air. He was fucking her still. But he wasn't going to last much longer!

"I'm so close!" Hemant told her.

"Just hang on. I have another one building." 

She said to him through her moans and pants. Hemant held onto her hips for dear life in hopes of not blowing his load before she came. He used one hand on her hard clit again and the other played with one of her nipples and that's all it took to give her one more orgasm. 

"AHHHHHH" 

She screamed out before he groaned in something similar and started firing his canon cock and shooting her cunt with his seed. It could only be described as an explosion. The cum fired from his dick and practically assaulted her insides in velocity with his cream. Hemant fell back breathless. Mrunal turned around and lay on top of him kissing him. She was laughing so much.

"What's so funny?" He asked her.

"Nothing! I'm just so happy i just came three times!! You're amazing."

"You ain't so bad yourself Mrunal"

Breathless, sweating, they collapsed into each other, tangled on the couch. Her hair spilled across his chest as she traced lazy circles on his skin. 

"So… any plans for tonight, Mr. Kumar?" 

Mrunal whispered, her voice a mix of exhaustion and playfulness.His hand cradled her waist as he looked down at her. 

"I have only one plan. And she’s in my arms right now" 

She smiled, lips brushing against his collarbone, surrendering to the intoxicating simplicity of the moment. Around them, the stadium was still buzzing, but inside this suite, they existed in their own intoxicating silence.

SAME TIME AT THE APARTMENT

The evening air clung heavy on Sonarika’s skin as she stepped into the apartment she once called a sanctuary. Every shadow of the house felt like Hemant’s absence pressing against her.

"Mumma!" 

Karan’s voice rang out as he ran toward her, his small arms wrapping around her waist. She froze for a second before bending down to kiss his hair, forcing a smile. Behind him, Anjali emerged from the kitchen, her teenage face glowing with affection. 

"Didi, you’re home. Bhaiya isn’t back yet?"

Sonarika’s throat tightened. She smoothed Karan’s hair and said softly. 

"No… Papa has some important business assignments tonight. He won’t be coming home"

Karan’s eyes widened, but instead of sadness, a spark of excitement lit his face. 

"Its okay Mumma......Papa said he works hard so that he can spend time with us....he did the same last week and spend two days with me playing....he will be back in the morning"

Sonarika’s heart twisted. She pulled him close, nodding. 

"Yes, he will" 

Her words stung like a dagger carving her own chest. Because she knew he will return , only this time she will no longer have a role in his life. She has burned that bridge to cure her own suffering , indirectly , Dilawar won. His hauntings distanced her from him for good as she chose Vikram because only Vikram could cure her nightmares.

Anjali set the dinner plates on the table, her eyes shining. 

"I’m so proud of Bhaiya, you know? Everyone at my coaching center is talking about YOD Industries. Our professors say his company is creating a new infrastructure for the future"

Karan chimed in, bouncing in his seat. 

"Papa is a hero! Even my friends say he is Tony Stark in real life. They say my papa is smarter than Batman!!"

Sonarika sat with them, her smile brittle, her silence heavy. Each word of admiration for Hemant only deepened her guilt, dragging her further into the abyss of her betrayal. They ate together, laughter filling the room as Karan told stories from college and Anjali teased him about his clumsy handwriting. Sonarika played along, but her laughter was hollow, a ghost echoing in a home that once brimmed with love.
Her mind kept replaying Hemant’s faint smile at Vikram’s apartment, that haunting, quiet farewell etched into her soul. After dinner, Anjali washed the dishes, humming softly, while Karan dragged Sonarika to his room to show her a drawing he made—a family portrait, stick figures smiling, hand in hand.

"See, Mumma? That’s you, that’s Papa, that’s me, and that’s Anju Didi. We’re all together forever" 

His innocent grin stabbed her deeper than any accusation could. She hugged him fiercely, her tears brushing against his hair as she whispered. 

"Forever, yes" 

But inside, she knew the portrait was a lie. She had made sure it is a lie after today. After she so recklessly walked to Vikram , opened her arms without a second thought. Sonarika cursed herself , questioning herself how , how can she get so vulnerable. When night finally settled, Karan drifted off to sleep beside her since Hemant isn't around. Anjali lay in the kids room, scrolling her phone, humming an old song. The apartment was quiet again.

Sonarika lay quietly on the bed, Karan’s soft breathing beside her filling the silence of the dimly lit room. She stroked his hair gently, as if holding on to a fragile thread of innocence that she feared would soon unravel. Her mind, however, was anything but calm. The day with Vikram had been tender, intoxicating, and in many ways comforting—yet Hemant’s sudden presence and the raw pain in his eyes when he saw those framed photos pierced her soul in a way she could not escape. For the first time, she understood the permanence of what she had done. Their marriage, that was holding on to a hope, had crumbled to a point where even her love for him couldn’t repair the ruin.

Her thoughts circled back to Hemant’s gaze, frozen on the images of her and Vikram smiling, laughing, appearing as if she had built another world without him. A lie—that was what those pictures screamed to him , his moments with her. Sonarika knew it wasn’t, not entirely. Her moments with Hemant had been real, her love genuine. But now, those memories stood buried under betrayal and distance. Even if she cried herself empty, she knew Hemant would never turn back. His demeanor today was louder than any argument they had ever shared, and it told her clearly: there would be no saving them.

Vikram’s voice echoed next, firm and persuasive: Your future is with me. She wasn’t sure if she believed him or if she merely clung to his certainty because she lacked her own. The divorce, once finalized, would mean uprooting her life. This home—these walls where Karan grew, where laughter and arguments once blended into family—would no longer be hers. The thought of moving into Vikram’s cramped flat unsettled her. It has always bothered her thinking how Vikram , a millionaire would live on a small apartment like that. Perhaps she would start afresh somewhere else, carve a new existence out of the ashes. Yet Vikram’s intentions were clear; he would one day push to make her his partner, his wife. That path felt both inevitable and suffocating at once.

Her heart ached most when her mind turned to Karan. She imagined the confusion in his young eyes when his world split into two halves—time with Papa, time with Mumma, no longer together but divided. The drawing he drew and shown her only deepened the wound she already has inside her. He deserved a whole family, not the fractured future her choices had forged. And then there was Anjali, still so young, looking up to her sister, perhaps one day resenting her for breaking what once held them all together. Sonarika cursed herself in the silence, torn between the comfort Vikram offered and the guilt that weighed her soul down. She did not know if her future held happiness or suffering—only that whichever it was, it would never again be whole   


THE SAME TIME SOMEWHERE IN MUMBAI

The city was quiet when they pulled up at the Oberoi Trident hotel, the kind of quiet that made its glowing towers seem like sentinels watching over secrets. Hemant led Mrunal through the discreet side entrance of a luxury suite, his hand firm against the small of her back. The door shut behind them with a heavy click, sealing away the world. The suite was opulent—soft golden lighting, silk curtains, and a bed that looked more like an altar than a place to sleep.

The moment they crossed the threshold, their lips found each other again. Clothes came undone with a desperation that was equal parts hunger and defiance. Every kiss, every touch, carried the weight of unspoken emotions—hers tinged with curiosity and thrill, his with anger, loss, and a need to reclaim control. The sheets rustled beneath them as passion consumed the air, an almost violent storm in the stillness of the room.

At their height, as she arched against him, Mrunal gasped between breaths. 

"I like this place you booked for tonight…" 

Her voice was thick with pleasure, eyes half-closed. Hemant, moving with steady ferocity, answered hoarsely. 

"I had planned this suite for someone else… but now it doesn’t matter" 

His tone carried bitterness beneath the heat, a sharp confession in the middle of their union. Mrunal’s brows flickered with surprise, but her body didn’t resist. She sensed there was a ghost in the room—a woman who wasn’t her. She bit her lip, tightening her hold around him, silently demanding all of his attention. And Hemant gave her just that.

Before they knew , she was riding him , his cock clogged into her. His thickness and warmth fuelled the eroticism between them and the more her need to pleasure him and herself with his meat. Hemant's fingers dug into the cheeks of her ass as Mrunal set a very quick pace.

"AHHH!!! Fuck me!" 

Hemant told Mrunal as her beautiful breast bounced hypnotically in front of his face. 

"You're so fucken sexy! You look so good bouncing on my dick." 

He told her as he grabbed her breasts in my hands once again.

"AHHH YES! I love your big dick in my pussy. It feels so fucken good AHHH FUCK!!!!" 

Mrunal shouted as her hands were pressed against his chest for leverage. Hemant sat back along the headboard and lowered his mouth so he could suck on Mrunal's hard nipples as she fucked him for all she was worth. Hemant grabbed onto Mrunal's hips and rolled her around. She yelped sexily as he took control of their tryst. He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her mouth hard with as much heat as he could muster. Mrunal wrapped her legs around his waist and soon they were fucking harder than ever.

"AHHH! Fuck it!! Fuck my fucking pussy Hemant. Fuck it! Hemant! You are Amazing! WOW! AHH!" 

Mrunal moaned before biting on his earlobe. Hemant groaned and sped up his hips. The sounds of their bodies crashing against one another quickly filled the entire hotel suite. His cock was absolutely rock hard as he pumped into her, thrusts shorter and harder now, slamming against her body as he chased his pleasure.

That is the moment Hemant's phone goes off. He noticed the name in the phone and the image that popup. The image of a woman that was once his life , his anchor. One of his favorite photos of Sonarika , which he took of her at Goa long ago during their first outing after marriage. Her smile radiant. And above the image the caller read SONA. His Sona , the woman that completed him. She was calling her , but Hemant knew it wasn't his Sona who is calling , but whoever that replaced her in her body. Someone who wrecked his heart so much it shut him down. 

Now that face gave him a different fuel. It made him remember the photos he saw in the morning , the portraits of her with Vikram , smiling and staring. The kind of stare he never saw ,  now her heart , her eyes , her body , it reacts to another man. Not him. And at that moment a strange level of determination and strength enveloped him. Hemant's thrusts to Mrunal became more and more powerful , and Mrunal who was cruising to her orgasm was speedrolling to it.

Hemant started to thrust into Mrunal's pussy harder and faster. Mrunal's mouth opened wider, and her brow furrowed in something of a shock. She stared at his cock stretching her pussy out, and then as she watched the rough way her pussy was being handled, her expression shifted again. Her eyebrows raised from shock and disbelief into a surprised joy, and the O shape her mouth was in curled up on the sides to have her smiling with her mouth open.

Again Hemant's phone rang , the same name popped. And this triggered Hemant to push his gear further. Mrunal was taking it beautifully, although he was thrusting into her so hard Hemant knew he would soon lose control. The angle was perfect, she was soaked, and he was so hard he felt like he could lift her up with his cock. Hemant clenched himself tighter as he rammed his cock into her harder, causing Mrunal to gasp and then moan harder.

"AHH! HEMANT! You're a FUCKING LION!!! MY GOD!! YESS!!! DON'T STOP!!!! AHH!!!"

The phone rang again , and Hemant again saw the same name. He slammed his hips forward into Mrunal and watched her body shake as she took it. She looked up at him again, eyes wide with pleasure but in a way that was silently begging him not to stop. He didn't.

Hemant groaned again and reached forward, grabbing Mrunal's thick thighs and holding them back as he railed his cock into her as hard as he could. Mrunal screamed hard and tilted her head on the pillow. Her hands gripped the bed rest above her, and her stomach tightened. He couldn't tell if she was cumming or if the pounding was just that much for her.   

"Shit Mrunal, I'm going to cum" Hemant warned her as he felt it churning in his balls.

"Oh yeah! Do it! Fill me again!!! Do it Hemant!!!!" 

Mrunal shouted as Hemant grounded his hips against her adding pressure to her clit. She lowered her hand between them and rubbed her clit to help her crest towards another orgasm. 

"mmmmmhhhh!! AHHHHHH" 

Mrunal shouted as her body exploded in a powerful mind blowing orgasm.

"Hrrghh YES! FUCK! Fuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkk!" 

Hemant groaned as the cum exploded from his cock to shoot and fill this lovely creature again. They held onto each other as their bodies shook with the greatest pleasure imaginable. Hemant ejaculated a powerful burst into her, the actress groaning deeply as she felt it, head buried into the pillows again as she just took it. Collapsed on top of her, he bit down into the skin of her shoulder as she growled, cock ejecting every last bit of his hot load inside her, spasming , shooting and jerking as it jetted into her, balls tight to squeeze every last drop out of his cock.

Collapsing completely on her, they both breathed hard, sweat covering them as they flopped now, exhausted and spent in the aftermath of what had become a very energetic fuck. Mrunal was weak now , as her body was slowly going into shutdown mode and so was Hemant. Its been a while since he has cummed like that. For Hemant , this night was not just a hook up , it was a turning point. A turning point that showed that he is no longer bound to Sonarika. This is an awakening , for Hemant Kumar. A New Chapter.

BACK AT THE APARTMENT

Sonarika laid on the bed with Karan in deep sleep beside her. She tried Hemant multiple times , but he didn't answer. Not once. She definitely expected it , especially after seeing him today at Vikram's place.She tried again, desperate, whispering his name into the silence as though he could hear her. Still, nothing. Hemant had shut her out completely. Defeated, she lay back against the pillows, Karan’s small hand resting on her arm. Her eyes drifted to the nearby desk where their wedding photos stood framed—frozen memories of vows, laughter, and the love that once burned so brightly. The photo of Hemant smiling holding her caught her eye. His smile in that moment was pure, unguarded, devoted. She reached out, her fingers brushing the frame as though touching him through time. Her tears blurred the image. 

"I’m sorry" 

She whispered into the darkness, though she knew he could no longer hear her, nor would he believe her even if he could. She curled into herself, Karan’s warmth beside her offering no comfort. His innocent breaths only reminded her of the family she was tearing apart. For years she had convinced herself there was still hope—patches to mend, bridges to rebuild. Tonight, those illusions had been stripped bare. Hemant’s stare was intense than any fire. His absence was colder than any rage. And as her eyelids grew heavy, she accepted the truth with a hollow heart: her marriage was wrecked beyond repair.

When she finally drifted into a restless sleep, the wedding photo seemed to stare back at her—a cruel reminder of the life she had shattered with her own hands.

                                                                                                                                                                                                        (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                     (CHAPTER CONTD)

SOMEWHERE IN GREECE


The room still carried the scent of passion, the Mediterranean breeze brushing past the thin white curtains. Wrapped in tangled sheets, Anjana stretched against Daraaksh’s chest, her lips curving into a sly smile. 

"You know" she murmured, her voice low and sultry, 

"I’m seriously considering making this… us… something more than just stolen nights"

Daraaksh chuckled, pressing his palm against her bare shoulder. 

"Anjana" he said with a teasing bite, 

"You must be far too lost in your pleasure to forget you’re already married. Or have you rewritten the vows in your head?"

She tilted her face up to his, eyes glittering mischievously. 

"Ritesh?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

"He was never important. I never loved him. He’s a convenience, a name on paper. Nothing more" 

She traced a finger down Daraaksh’s chest. 

"You, on the other hand, make me feel alive"

For a moment, his smile faded, replaced by sharp curiosity. 

"Then tell me, why all this plotting? Why meddle with Sonarika and Vikram’s lives? Why orchestrate games with Meghna to ruin Sonarika’s marriage? You’re cunning, Anjana, but what’s the root of it?"

Her expression hardened, her tone cutting with the weight of old wounds. 

"Because everything goes back to my father. Prakash Bajaj never saw me or my sister as anything more than burdens. He betrayed my mother, crushed her spirit, poisoned Shekhar into becoming a chauvinist clone of himself—and that path ended in blood when Shekhar’s wife killed him. I want it all back. Every ounce of dignity my mother lost, every insult we swallowed. I’ll strip my father of his empire, piece by piece, until BajajCorp is mine"

Daraaksh’s brow arched. 

"And you’re not doing that by turning your brother into a pawn? You’re using Vikram whether you admit it or not"

"No" 

She said firmly, sitting up straighter, sheets slipping slightly as if to punctuate her conviction. 

"Vikram is not like my father. My mother raised him, I molded him into the man he is—kind, loving, different. But my father wants him to inherit the business, walk the same path Shekhar did. And I won’t allow it. I want him bound to Sonarika, exiled from BajajCorp, free to build his life with her and his hotels. That way, I take everything, and he loses nothing. Meghna’s obsession with Sonarika is her own; One that will never be fullfilled because I will be protecting them without her knowledge. I’m only ensuring Vikram and Sonarika’s bond so that he stays happy with his life and away from my father’s influence"

Something in Daraaksh’s eyes flickered—admiration, or perhaps fascination with that spark of loyalty in her ruthless scheme. He shifted closer, brushing a hand against her cheek. 

"You surprise me, Anjana. For all your venom, you protect him still" He paused, voice darkening. 

"But tell me, what of my motives? Do you know why I hunger for Hemant’s downfall?"

Her lips curved in curiosity. 

“Enlighten me.”

He inhaled deeply, his tone low and simmering with rage. 

"Hemant destroyed my bloodline. He slaughtered my father, my brother, my brother-in-law, and left my uncle crippled for life. But I don’t want revenge on Hemant Kumar the husband, the doting father. No—I want to drag back the man he buried. Michael King. The gangster, the vigilante. To punish him as Michael, not as Hemant. And to do that, I must strip him of Sonarika—his tether to humanity—then force him into the world he abandoned. Only when he bleeds as Michael King will I crush him. Only then will he feel the agony I carry every waking day"

Anjana studied him, noticing the way his voice shook, the fire in his eyes burning dangerously close to obsession. She touched his face with a slow, seductive smile. 

"You’re getting far too worked up" she whispered, sliding closer until her lips brushed his. 

"Perhaps you need another distraction before your fury consumes you"

Daraaksh exhaled, the tension in his muscles softening as her warmth pressed against him. With a low growl, he let the rage slip from his shoulders, surrendering to her touch once more. And as the night deepened over the Mediterranean, they lost themselves again, vengeance and desire entwining like the sheets around their bodies.

AT AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

The hall was a cavern of shadows, its vaulted ceiling stretching high above where chandeliers of steel hung unlit, leaving the glow of projectors and holographic displays to paint the air. Siddharth Mehta stood at the center, dressed in a tailored black suit, his voice calm but his eyes betraying the storm within. 

"Gentlemen" 

He began, tapping the console as the cityscape of Mumbai appeared, fractured red lines marking key smuggling routes. 

"Our hub—our crown jewel—has been compromised. The handlers, the street liaisons who ran the narcotics pipeline, are gone. Eliminated. Whoever did this wasn’t some rival gang. They were professionals" 

His words echoed into the silence, every ear tuned to him.

From the elevated seats, men and women of the AZRAEL Syndicate shifted uncomfortably. Murmurs rippled like static. Siddharth pressed on, his tone sharpening. 

"You all know what this means for me. My father, Hansraj Mehta, has already anchored the Kohinoor off Goa indefinitely. He fears exposure of the gold channels that run through your network. If Mumbai collapses, it will drag Regalcorp’s operations down with it. And I will not let my family’s legacy be branded weak" 

His jaw clenched as he turned to face the council. 

"But understand this—what happened there isn’t just a local skirmish. This is something… bigger"

A slow, deliberate clap rang out, breaking the tension. From the corner, a tall, broad-shouldered man rose, his wolf padding silently at his heel. Victor Tarasov, head of the Tarasov Crime Family, his presence enough to silence the room. 

"You are right, Junior Mehta" he said in his thick Russian accent, stepping toward the light. 

"Bigger than you imagine" 

He placed a small drive on the console. With a flick, the footage began to roll on the screen—a convoy of SUVs moving along a dusty stretch outside Western Express Highway at Mumbai. Suddenly, the sky tore apart with the sound of rotor blades. A black gunship helicopter descended, cannons streaking. The vehicles exploded like fireworks, bodies flung into the dirt. Gasps erupted across the chamber.

"Dilawar’s convoy" Tarasov said coldly, his eyes locked on the carnage. 

"Attacked not by rivals. But by something far worse" 

He adjusted the footage, enhancing the blurred frame of the helicopter. Slowly, the image cleared until the marking came into view—a sword flanked by wings, etched on the gunship’s hull. The hall fell into a stunned hush, followed by sharp whispers. One Syndicate boss rose to his feet, voice quivering, 

"Impossible… that sigil…"

Siddharth’s face hardened. He pointed at the screen. 

"Whose mark is that? Tell me"

Tarasov turned, his wolf baring its teeth as though echoing his master’s disdain. 

"That" Victor growled, 

"Is the seal of a King. Michael King. Once, he was your Syndicate’s shadow. A vigilante who dismantled cartels, hunted men like us across continents. Men of AZRAEL bled to bury him back in 2007. He was supposed to be dead. Forgotten" 

He jabbed a finger at the glowing symbol on the projection. 

"But this… this means he lives. And worse—he has claimed Mumbai as his kingdom"

The chamber erupted. Voices shouted over one another—fear, anger, disbelief. Siddharth slammed his fist against the console, silencing them. 

"If he is alive" he said through gritted teeth. 

"Then tell me how I can neutralize him. Name the price, Tarasov. My family cannot afford a ghost from the past undoing decades of empire" 

His words carried desperation masked in arrogance, the kind that comes when power is slipping away. Tarasov studied him with a predator’s patience before answering. 

"Neutralize him? You do not neutralize Michael King. He is not a man you buy, bribe, or break. He is a storm. And storms cannot be caged" 

He leaned closer, his voice a chilling growl. 

"But know this—if that sigil flies again over Mumbai, then the city is no longer yours. It is his. And if it is his kingdom…" 

He paused, letting the weight of silence drown the room. 


"…then war is coming to those shores. A war that will change the fate of Mumbai forever"

                                                                                                                                                                                                     END OF CHAPTER 24

[Munda007]

Interesting development.. Excellent Bro

[siva05]

Worth the wait, now our king freed from chaos.no more sona Now His only concern people are anju and karan only

[DeanWinchester00007]

I am uncertain about this update and dont know how to rate it . It is one of the best erotic chapters but at the same one of the weakest chapter plot wise . 

The chapter was okay okay , but the sex part not only saves the chapter but elevates it up to the level of one of the best chapters .

I dont know it felt rushed or over edited . The dialogue felt short , The interaction needed to be little long , They felt meaning less . It is like you are losing plot or you are rushing or you over edited the story just to  keep the length short .

Most of the important stuff like Hemant and Tamanna hooking up , Hemant after 10 years of marriage fucking a new women it should have got some highlight how he felt about it . Him going home , and seeing sona how he felt , There was some lines needed for this . 

Please dont over use the Few days later Few days later  its fucking up the flow . lol . 

And for the first Time I think we should not blame Meghana for any thing . lol . Sona has chosen her path , and her destiny VIKRAM . I just hate it how much power He has over her . And now him turning out to be good character and her sister taking care of her brother and wants him to have good life with sona, I dont know if its wrong but its so frustrating . 

Added in Edit :-  Also How Meghna just gave all the Credit to VIKRAM and Sona agreed with her , Is she stupid or what ? What about he Mystery Man ? who literally slaughtered an Army for her , No mention of him ? She already forget about him, She could have counter Meghna over this but No . My VIKRAM 

Her Psychiatrist is the worst , worse than Meghna .   . What is the point of her therapy If she cant understand a simple thing just stay away from VIKRAM . NO Lets go to his birthday party , and kiss him why ? That same fucking reasoning I am really sorry for this i dont mean to offend you but this is so repetitive . Any bad things happens in her life she just straight goes on to bounce on VIKRAM's DICK and then cry about it , My marriage , My son , My blah blah blah . At least for once let her enjoy guilt free like wow Fuck my marriage Fuck Hemant but nope  . Nothings changed with her . Meghna is blameless whatever happens , Sona is just too stupid and her Psychiatrist is worse than Meghna . These women are dreaming of taking Meghna down ? It just so frustrating to even read . 

Her again just casually kissing VIKRAM on her birthday , and not disclosing it with Her Psychiatrist but saying Hemant is moving away from him while I was getting dick down by Lover , Please save my marriage lol . 

But one of the best part was Hemant seeing them together , That was so cruel   , HARRY . I was hoping some humiliation for Hemant there , But you turn him into COW , He does not even hate VIKRAM why ? Cmon so Dangerous underworld Triad Mob is just okay seeing her ex wife and her Motherfucker affair partner ? Not an iota of Hatred , No cringe No anger Nothing . I just wanna see VIKRAM reaction when MICHAEL reveal his real identity . 
At that time more dialogue was needed , It felt it was  too short, There should be more guilt more sarcasm more helplessness you know MORE DRAMA needed there , That was i was talking about , I felt it was missed opportunity . 

Do you feel the same ? Or is it just me ? Just asking . I think the story still needs more drama , Can you please put more drama in it without worrying about the length . We are gonna read it any ways few more lines or paragraph would not hurt 

Also I thought there must be deeper rivalry between Anjana Bajaj and Hemant but it was nothing , but it was okay . 

Also  , about the plot . Did tamanna know about Hemant's past ? I might have missed it . But if she does not , then how come she is okay with his past . She just fucked a man who sliced down countless Man , and she is okay ?  Revealing Hemant's true identity is big part of plot , If this is gonna be everyone's reaction then i am not sure it would play big part in future updates . The villains are gasping for air but people around him just okay with his true identity .




NOW THE BEST PART . Just too much heat , His walk is Godly, The Throne is his      *MICHAEL KING*

Not gonna lie , I was hoping MICHAEL would not get engaged with anybody , But after reading that Sona went to VIKRAM's birthday , I was like Fuck her , Fuck Them . HE NEEDS THIS . Unleash the beast  

And Tamanna was good choice for start hahahahaha . 

The tenderness at start and then roughness at the end , Specially Coffee sex part was the best , The rough , primal fucking MICHAEL not holding back any more , though this was start but still it was best . I was hoping that Sona some how get to know about this . 
Just cutting it with Few days later without telling how hemant felt when he reached home , what was he feeling , and the next day . I was hoping little more story between him and tamanna like flirting text , both them meeting again coffee talking about that day would be good to show some romance . Hemant needed that . but again no complaints . 

And FUCKING SID MEHTA , God , I love the how the table turns now . I just hope He get to know who really Hemant is before MICHAEL CRUSH HIS SKULL WITH HIS BARE HANDS . I just hope if his death is in picture it should brutal   .

Now the HIGHTLIGHT of the STORY , MRUNAL 

I was hoping that you gonna save her for the best part and for later , MICHAEL should have bang Pranitha before Banging MRUNAL .  But again , I need to read that part again    . It was again one of the best celebrity erotic sex tale . Him just going so rough at the end , like fucking the frustration , Bechari Mrunal Sona ka gussa Jhelna pada . Sona needs to know about this , At least we get some Idea if she felt jealous or not . 

Though This is just the start , There will be more , But unleashing of  MICHAEL was Successful and Very much needed .

Also Introducing the NEW villains are good . 

Overall , It was good . Just needed little more .  and also dont FORGET LESBIANS . hahahaha

Looking forward for Chapter 25 . 


(I am not criticizing or anything , Just a simple comment for fun .)


Again YOU ROCK,  HARRY   . 

[Harry Jordan]

I am uncertain about this update and dont know how to rate it . It is one of the best erotic chapters but at the same one of the weakest chapter plot wise 

Again YOU ROCK,  HARRY   . 

Thank you for the Kind Words.

Yeah , it felt great to do sex scenes after a while and I can say proudly , this is just the beginning. The future chapters will feature more sex as Hemant Kumar's liberation is complete.....Now he is unleashed and he has a pletorah of Women to get his pleasures fullfilled.

And yeah I definitely spammed the "Few Days Later" LOL. But I had to because I wanted to make sure time passed in between each events or else readers might mistake next scene happens right away.

As for the Therapist Neha Bharadwaj , she is just there to provide relief for Sonarika as a person. Her job is also a bit severe as she is one of the rare person who is aware of Sonarika's medical condition. And rather than block her , Neha is doing what she can to make sure Sonarika is comfortable. Also she never stated to go sleep with Vikram. That was Meghna's doing , she was one enticing her and Sonarika suffering from the trauma of kidnapping went to Vikram to get rid of Dilawar's hauntings in her.


Now the most important part about Sonarika's arc , I think some readers can see why this arc happens. Sonarika is suffering mentally and due to her recent trauma of Dilawar, she cannot find that comfort with Hemant as his touch remind her of those terrible memories. Plus the most important factor , Sonarika is still unaware of Hemant being Michael King. She wanted dominating , rough sex that could replace Dilawar's nightmare in her brain and according to her , she cannot get that with Hemant as all her life , Hemant held back with her. But Vikram didn't , which is why she went to Vikram , because deep down , she was sure Vikram could erase those memories and forge new ones because Vikram roughs her up. Something she expects to never get from Hemant. Which is why she chose to go to Vikram to have a special time with him , but Hemant's arrival there was something she didn't expect. And that has paved the way for Hemant's Liberation.


About the Tamanna's arc , its simple. Tamanna already has her own tragedies , she had lost her husband to violence and is aware of violent people. But she does not see the negative side of that in Hemant because , one , she knows the true Hemant , one that was with her during college. And two , Hemant was there to save her daughter , something that fuelled Tamanna's feelings towards him. Which is why during their first time , they simply went off , no talks , no confessions , just gave in. And that suited them at that moment because they ended up satisfying each other to the fullest. Hemant embraced Michael King at that moment when he remembered a past memory of him with Kira and Ashnoor. And Tamanna fuelled by her desire towards him as he was always her most desirable man since college. Which is why she doesn't care about his violence, because she has faith that Hemant will never walk a dark path that she has experienced in her own personal life before.


As for Hemant not reacting to Vikram and Sonarika. I believe him lashing out won't do justice to his character. Because first and foremost , those two are still unaware of Michael King. And at that moment , I wanted Hemant to be liberated with his hope and  bound to Sonarika. He came there days after having amazing sex with Tamanna , so he is already moving ahead. But seeing the pictures and seeing Sonarika happy , this will make him ignore Sonarika wholely in the future. And when it comes to betrayal , nothing hurts more when the person who you betrayed cuts every relation with you beacuse that will haunt them forever. Because in this point , her arc takes a different approach for the future. Because now it will be Sonarika truly seeing her own errors and faults , understanding that she is making erratic decisions and realizing how much she has stumbled from her real identity. All I can say for now is her arc will be something I am definitely looking forward to explore.


And do not worry , Pranitha is definitely in the horizon. She will pave the way for an interesting lifestyle and new exploration in Hemant's arc. On the storyline standpoint , Pranitha is to Hemant is what Vikram is to Sonarika. The perfect partner they need. And Pranitha and Hemant's arc is something I am definitely curious about because there is a lot of interesting scenarios I have planned to explore with them.


And finally yes , this is the True Beginning of Hemant Kumar , the formidable Michael King merged to a fragile Hemant forming a vibrant , flamboyant , ruthless , tactical version of himself. And Hemant Kumar's growth is just the beginning , he is preparing his army , for a conflict that will put all the characters in the crossfire in the future. Ironically his war will decide the fates of all the characters as the story progresses to its DESTINATION!

[JohnS112]

Wonderful writing.what an excellent story teller you are.

I guess Hemant can’t really cut off all relations with Sonarika…due to Karan. And again as many have pointed out before, I feel the real loser in all this mess is Hemant and Karan. Sonarika would be happy with Vikram and forget Hemant after sometime. After all Time heals everything. However, what punishment is this that she has a life she wanted…beautiful family…loving husband, son, her sister.Whereas Hemant has just semblance of a good life. Making out with everyone you desire may not bring the calm Hemant really wanted. Michael King and Hemant to truly be free and one require that calm…and that doesn’t comes with betrayal…or leaving the past behind as Michael did when he married Sonarika.

One has to face the past. Accepting ones mistakes and letting ones love go away just because one thinks she is happy with other man shows a weakness in Michael. That was not the Michael King different characters in the story spoke about.

But again, what a wonderfully written story. Just jotting down what I felt. Not to point out anything in the story. Hoping for more such cool and exciting updates.

[Harry Jordan]

Wonderful writing.what an excellent story teller you are.

But again, what a wonderfully written story. Just jotting down what I felt. Not to point out anything in the story. Hoping for more such cool and exciting updates.

Good observation , due to Karan , Hemant can never remove Sonarika from his life. So at the end of the day , he will have to accept and endure her choices and her relationship with Vikram. Which is where Michael King's attitude and mindset will help evolve and liberate Hemant from Sonarika's actions. I don't consider Hemant a loser in this story , I mean lets be real , Hemant turned from a simple employee to a Business Magnate in limited time and now has an identity of a made man across the elites. As for him leaving Sonarika , its pretty clear Hemant still loves her , and her choices broke him and now he has decided he is no longer bound to her anymore. And that is needed because I want his character to show men has a breaking point , and Sonarika crossed that right now. And this will also open different scenarios for her character to be explored.

[desihunter]

I think molestation should be healed with tender sex and not with rough sex

[Harry Jordan]

I think molestation should be healed with tender sex and not with rough sex

True in some instance but its a given fact that a Woman's sexual apetite and need exceeds much more than a mans. So sometimes when a forced encounter happens , the female grows a need of rougher sex to ignore those bad thoughts which helps them to overcome that incident. Many cognitive studies have shown women who are survivors of assaults often grows a need to feel that roughness in a safer way. Not to forget what happened to Sonarika was not a full on assault , but an attempt. An assault would've traumatized her beyond repair.

Here Sonarika's reasoning is tender sex with Hemant will never make her forget Dilawar's forced actions. But Vikram and his roughness she is familiar with will help her overcome what Dilawar is. For her , Hemant always holds back. Unaware about his change.

[Rocky@handsome]

As for Hemant not reacting to Vikram and Sonarika. I believe him lashing out won't do justice to his character. 

[quote pid='6047380' dateline='1759335203']
And do not worry , Pranitha is definitely in the horizon. She will pave the way for an interesting lifestyle and new exploration in Hemant's arc. On the storyline standpoint , Pranitha is to Hemant is what Vikram is to Sonarika. The perfect partner they need. 
[/quote]
_________________________________________________________

I completely agree; it’s a good thing Hemant didn’t show any anger or lash out when he saw Sonarika with Vikram in the flat—otherwise, his character’s image would have been tarnished. And yes, Hemant should totally ignore Sonarika, as if she never existed in this world, as I had already commented the same word's on your previous updates when she confessed everything to Hemant.

However, he cannot do that because he doesn’t want to hurt his son Karan, nor does he want to shatter the false dream of a united family.

In my opinion, Hemant has been tragically wronged. Sonarika not only betrayed Hemant but also mercilessly inflicted wounds on his heart like a cruel oppressor.

1) When she first betrayed him, she claimed Vikram was a passionate lover and Hemant was too busy. But is working hard for the family and not giving his wife enough time a crime? Should betrayal be the reward?

2) The second time, Sonarika restarted the affair with Vikram, stabbing Hemant’s wounds again and again, even though he was fully supporting her and had become a passionate lover. Yet, her infidelity was justified with the claim that her special bond with Vikram went beyond physical pleasure.

3) Under the guise of therapy and self-discovery, Sonarika repeatedly hurt Hemant with her words, while secretly, (subconsciously) deep in her heart, she was dreaming of a future with Vikram. She was unwittingly building dreams with him.

4) Ultimately, she went back to Vikram’s house, pouring salt on Hemant’s wounds and using the ghost of Dilawar as an excuse.

Last but not least (though Sonarika did not intend it), unfortunately, the harshest and cruelest betrayal to Hemant’s soul was showing him the private world of happiness between Sonarika and Vikram, which literally made Hemant’s soul bleed.

In this entire love triangle, Vikram emerged victorious and was hailed as the real hero, while Hemant was portrayed as the loser husband. Sacrificing such true love and devotion, only to be branded a loser, is a grave injustice.

So far in this story, the only one who has lost everything is Hemant. Sonarika lost nothing—she will be with Vikram, have half custody of her son Karan, and a bright future ahead. For Hemant, even half custody will hurt deeply because he never imagined his son would grow up in a broken family, but now that painful reality is unfolding.

Sonarika carries only guilt for hurting Hemant’s heart; she shows no regret or sorrow for losing a loving husband like him. I never felt Sonarika truly longed for Hemant or his love—only sympathy remains, nothing more.

Now that she has chosen Vikram, even if Hemant loves someone else, Sonarika will neither feel jealousy nor insecurity. She will happily live her life and soon forget Hemant, because time heals all wounds.

Even if Hemant finds a new partner, it will never truly be justice for him. Sonarika had a choice between Vikram and Hemant, and she chose Vikram—humiliating Hemant’s genuine love and sacrifice.

If Hemant had the choice, he would have always chosen Sonarika without hesitation.

I sincerely wished that Sonarika would repent for her mistakes and return to Hemant, because their love was real. But that hope is now completely lost; Sonarika has finally chosen Vikram, no matter what excuse there is.

I also wanted to see a scene where Sonarika sees Hemant with another woman in bed—especially witnessing his wild and aggressive side—and feels helpless, unable to do anything. Such a scene was possible because Hemant was shown to be powerful, unlike in other stories where the husband appears weak. This would have revealed Hemant’s strength and truth, adding depth to the story—but that hope is now lost.

Since Sonarika has chosen Vikram, she no longer cares what Hemant does with any woman.

So overall, even if Hemant conquers the whole world, he has lost to Vikram in the battle of true love, which is deeply tragic and painful.

Sonarika and Vikram will build their palace of happiness, upon which lie the ashes of Hemant’s love and sacrifice.

***
This is purely my personal view; please don’t take it as criticism. You are free to shape your story as you wish—I’m just sharing the pain and feelings from my heart.

Your storytelling and vivid imagination bring these characters to life in such a powerful way. Keep creating such compelling narratives that touch the heart and soul. I truly admire your dedication and talent—wishing you endless creativity and success ahead!

God Bless You 

Regards 

Rocky ❤️

[Munda007]

I dont think Sona's character and what she wants is clear. I think more twist and turn and dont know which way it will go,completely upto the story teller. Even after so much neither she has moved to Vikram completley, its one of her thinks while other part dont want to loose Hemant. Mind it she dont want to loose him. It can go either way (might be wrong) but I think writter has kept all the options opened for me and either can/can't be justified. thats the beauty

[Harry Jordan]

Your storytelling and vivid imagination bring these characters to life in such a powerful way. Keep creating such compelling narratives that touch the heart and soul. I truly admire your dedication and talent—wishing you endless creativity and success ahead!

God Bless You 

Regards 

Rocky ❤️

I get your point but I disagree with it.


To me the biggest looser and quiet literally the worst victim here is Sonarika. Because first and foremost , her relationship with Vikram was not at all genuine, it was being manipulated and orchestrated by her enemy who she is still quiet unaware off. Another part is she doesn't know she has an existential threat to not just her family, but even for her life by a force she still haven't noticed or being aware about. Even if they separate , Meghna will forever stay as a shadow that will find new ways to torture Sonarika. With Hemant's arc he is atleast fighting back , returning to his old glory again. While Sonarika is simply loosing her way to the point she might just become unrecognisable by her own son , her own sister. That is the downfall she is going onto. 


Only pluspoint in Vikram and Sonarika's relationship is their sex. Other than that , Vikram doesn't know to cook , to support , to motivate her , he behaves like a millionaire and his characteristics are completely different to that of Hemant. So for Sonarika who was used to Hemant's tender care , comfort and support. It will be a different experience because she will have to do things on her own. Vikram isn't Hemant , and he can never be.


And most importantly , the bridge Sonarika has burned with Hemant. It will take a lifetime of work for her to build it back , but she has awareness enough to realize she has screwed something. And due to her mental condition and her state , even if there is a permanent separation , no matter how much time passes , Sonarika will never be able to escape her mistakes as long as Karan will exist to remind her. Hence , her betrayal to Hemant will forever stay as a scar that will never heal. And Vikram will be stuck loving a partial heart of Sonarika as she will be emotionally and mentally traumatised by her own sins to Hemant.

[Rocky@handsome]

I get your point but I disagree with it.


To me the biggest looser and quiet literally the worst victim here is Sonarika. Because first and foremost , her relationship with Vikram was not at all genuine, it was being manipulated and orchestrated by her enemy who she is still quiet unaware off. Another part is she doesn't know she has an existential threat to not just her family, but even for her life by a force she still haven't noticed or being aware about. Even if they separate , Meghna will forever stay as a shadow that will find new ways to torture Sonarika. With Hemant's arc he is atleast fighting back , returning to his old glory again. While Sonarika is simply loosing her way to the point she might just become unrecognisable by her own son , her own sister. That is the downfall she is going onto. 


Only pluspoint in Vikram and Sonarika's relationship is their sex. Other than that , Vikram doesn't know to cook , to support , to motivate her , he behaves like a millionaire and his characteristics are completely different to that of Hemant. So for Sonarika who was used to Hemant's tender care , comfort and support. It will be a different experience because she will have to do things on her own. Vikram isn't Hemant , and he can never be.


And most importantly , the bridge Sonarika has burned with Hemant. It will take a lifetime of work for her to build it back , but she has awareness enough to realize she has screwed something. And due to her mental condition and her state , even if there is a permanent separation , no matter how much time passes , Sonarika will never be able to escape her mistakes as long as Karan will exist to remind her. Hence , her betrayal to Hemant will forever stay as a scar that will never heal. And Vikram will be stuck loving a partial heart of Sonarika as she will be emotionally and mentally traumatised by her own sins to Hemant.

Harry Bro!! I deeply hear and understand your points, yet some heavy thoughts keep lingering and troubling my heart. I hope you don’t mind me sharing them, because I truly trust your insight to help me find peace and clarity.

As per the recent update, it’s painfully clear that Sonarika has chosen Vikram over Hemant—whatever the reason or excuse may be. Hemant has also seen their pictures at Vikram’s flat and has completely understood that they have created their own little happy world already. 

So it’s obvious that Hemant and Sonarika’s separation is inevitable—whether permanent or temporary—and Sonarika will be with Vikram —the wild lover she longed for. But what about the devastating betrayal Hemant suffered, the wounds burned into his soul that may never fully heal? What price will she pay? How will justice be served for breaking a family apart so cruelly?

The most painful truth is that Sonarika shows only sympathy for Hemant—I’ve never seen her truly crave his love. Hell Forget yearning for Hemant’s love—she didn’t even fight or make sincere efforts to get him back.Her guilt feels shallow, limited to hurting a kind, devoted man so deeply.

When she sees Hemant moving forward, happy and healing, maybe her guilt will fade, and she’ll live guilt-free with Vikram—while Hemant's heart still bleeds in silence.

But where is the real justice? When will her sins catch up to her? True justice will only come when Sonarika wakes up to the mistake she made choosing Vikram over Hemant. When she can’t find happiness without him. When she craves Hemant desperately, begging for his love again.

What haunts me is that in almost every story, the cheating wife thrives, while the husband suffers, powerless as he watches his wife’s wild side with another man.

Why can’t this story show Sonarika shattered—watching Hemant’s passionate and wild love making with another woman, losing what she thought was hers, breaking inside? (Maybe then she’d fight to win him back.)

Such a scene would show both her regret for what she lost and finally reveal Hemant’s true strength—the husband who won’t quietly suffer anymore.

I’ve never seen a story where a wife, after leaving a loving husband for her lover, ever regrets it. Maybe because husbands are usually shown weak, this pain is never explored.

But your story carries this powerful potential, having already shown Hemant’s strength. It can easily paint Sonarika powerless and broken—watching the man she once had with someone else.

I’ve hoped for so long that someone breaks this old pattern and comes up with something different— this time showing a cheating wife vulnerable, suffering, haunted by the man she left behind. 


Regards 


Rocky ❤️

[Harry Jordan]

Harry Bro!! I deeply hear and understand your points, yet some heavy thoughts keep lingering and troubling my heart. I hope you don’t mind me sharing them, because I truly trust your insight to help me find peace and clarity.

I’ve hoped for so long that someone breaks this old pattern and comes up with something different— this time showing a cheating wife vulnerable, suffering, haunted by the man she left behind. 


Regards 


Rocky ❤️

Well , you are conveniently seeing it only through one perspective which is why you feel only one person is suffering here.

The truth is both Hemant and Sonarika are the victims here , and the crazy part is Sonarika is falling for a relationship that was never genuine in the first place. Her entire affair and relationship with Vikram was orchestrated by Meghna , a person hell bent on ruining her. She used Sonarika and Vikram's feelings and vulnerability and bridged them to form this "relationship". Lets be real , on the storyline standpoint , right now if Sonarika learns about Meghna's devious plans , she will not only be shattered but broken beyond repair seeing everything around her was built on a lie. 

As for her suffering , she still does. Even now , after everything , her mind and heart still yearns for Hemant because according to her , him holding back in bed is the only flaw Sonarika sees in Hemant. Which is why she is trying to hold on , because she knows even though how good Vikram is , he cannot be a supportive partner like Hemant has always been. Her decisions lately has been her mental condition coming in full swing , Meghna has her in a twist and she is succumbing to her state. And right now she is loosing herself , loosing her identity , succumbing to Vikram's energy all over again.

And I definitely don't intend to showcase Hemant as a looser here , hell he is the most important character of the story. And he is going to go all out with Michael merging into Hemant's psyche. And there is some impressive surprises with him around women in the future thanks to his transformation. So we won't be getting Hemant walking around suffering crying for Sonarika's love anymore. Hemant Kumar is going all out , not bothered by a woman who always goes to Vikram over him. He has his own motivations and ambitions for the future.

And there is indeed a different pattern here because unlike the other stories where the husband fights for his love. This time , it will be the wife who will fight tooth and nail to reclaim her identity. Her eventual destination will be her redemption story, now whether does it have Hemant or not , only time will tell.