Adultery Love Sex And War : Age Of Darkness

[Munda007]

PROBLEM FIXED!

Thank you beloved readers for understanding me. Turns out it was an issue with the cooling fan of my laptop , it wasn't recieving the power input to cool and my laptop kept shutting down everytime it heated. Took time to get the replacement fan and finally the problem was solved! 

CHAPTER 25 WILL COME ONLINE IN FEW HOURS.

Just a quick headsup , this chapter will heavily feature Sonarika and will focus heavily on her character arc and her interesting turn she takes in the storyline. I know she is not exactly every reader's favorite character but I think , I have a feeling for some this arc will bring some readers to change their opinions about her. So Hemant and his "action" stuff is delayed for next chapter and some other "action" will be present 

Regardless I hope you guys like it because I am introducing a new character connected to Sonarika that will play a major role in not just her arc but in the story in the future. Things are going to get really interesting from now on!

         YOURS TRULY

  HARRY JORDAN    

Thats a great News.
By the way I am looking forward to how Sonarika's character evolves..

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                               CHAPTER 25

The suite at the Oberoi Trident still carried the perfume of a stormy night—scattered clothes across the floor, overturned cushions, bed sheets tangled into an unreadable mess. The bed itself lay empty, but the muted sounds of running water from the bathroom betrayed where the passion had shifted. Inside the marble shower, Hemant Kumar pressed against Mrunal Thakur, both drenched under the spray, hands exploring with the urgency of a night that had yet to end. Her laugh, low and breathless, echoed off the glass as his lips trailed her shoulder. Neither of them seemed in any rush to let the morning interrupt what the night had begun.


Hemant couldn't resist but lower his hands to her soft ass once more. He moaned into her mouth when her hand wrapped around his morning hard cock and pumped him gently. Her wet breast pressed against his chest was turning him on all the more.

Mrunal spun away from Hemant and leaned back against his chest. She continued to jerk off his cock while he massaged her breast and placed soft kisses against her neck. The bollywood beauty lifted her head and gulped air, giving him more access to her neck. His hands were busy playing with her tits, pinching her nipples and kneading the soft skin.

Mrunal turned around pushing Hemant against the far wall. She looked absolutely divine, wet and naked and hungry for his cock again. She kissed him while her eyes locked onto his before she slowly descended to her knees.

She was eye level with his cock and didn't wasted a second to take it into her mouth. Hemant groaned as she masterfully sucked him deeply into her mouth. Her hands remained behind her back, she was only using her tongue and lips to make his legs shake with desire.

Her eyes never left his as he fucked her pretty mouth. He couldn't help but moan at the sight of her on her knees sucking his dick as the water cascaded over her near flawless form. He ran his hand through her wet hair guiding her further along his hard pole.

Mrunal pulled Hemantr's cock out of her mouth with a loud pop. She smiled devilishly at him, redirecting his cock between her soft tits. She wrapped them around his cock encouraging him to fuck her tits. She held them tightly around him as Hemant sawed between the pillows of soft flesh. Mrunal would lick his cockhead whenever it appeared close enough to her face.

The heat in the shower and across his chest was rising as he found himself overwhelmed with arousal. Hemant pulled Mrunal to her feet and kissed her deeply. Their tongues swirled together as his hands grabbed the tits he had been fucking moments earlier.

Hemant broke the kiss and lowered his head to take one of her tasty nipples in his mouth. His fingers were now running through the folds of her pussy that was absolutely drenched at this point. Hemant pushed Mrunal against the wall and dropped to his knees. He pushed two of his fingers inside of her as his lips encircled her clit.

"Oooooooooohhhh" 

Mrunal moaned completely taken by his actions. Hemant increased the intensity of his sucking, loving to hear her moan. She ran her hands through his hair and held him still against her clit. He licked and sucked at it as his fingers pumped in and out of her drenched opening at a maddening clip. 

"Get up here and fuck me." Mrunal practically growled.

Hemant got to his feet and kissed her hard before spinning her around to face the wall. Mrunal leaned forward putting her hands against the shower, pushing her ass towards him. He bit his lip as he grabbed his cock and eased it inside of her with no trouble whatsoever.

"God damn!" 

Hemant groaned as he once again felt the wonders of Mrunal's pussy. His hands found her hips and his cock began to fuck her with deep hard strokes almost as though it had a mind of its own.

"Ahhh yessss!" 

Mrunal shouted as she bounced that wonderful tight ass of hers back against his cock that was giving her pussy quite the beating. Mrunal didn't mind one bit and only continued to push back against him, screaming and begging for more. His left hand found her breast his right wrapped around her and played with her pulsing clit.

"HEMANT!!!! you're going to make me cum!! Ooooo AHHHH!!!" 

Was all the warning Hemant was given before she exploded all around his cock. He was close as well but grit his teeth and held on as the movie star continued to spasm all around his throbbing cock.

Hemant turned Mrunal around again once her orgasm had passed. He kissed her as he lifted her from her feet and pressed her against the shower wall. She wrapped her long legs around his waist and soon enough he was back to fucking that wonderful pussy once more.

Hemant was close to Cumming and he was no longer holding back. His strokes were strong hard and erratic. He wanted to fill this beautiful actress with all of his cum. She had wanted it, she had earned it and she was going to get it.

"Oh Mrunal, oh my god... Mrunal ooohhhh fuck!" 

Hemant screamed as he felt his cock explode and send what felt like a gallon of cum into her demanding pussy. He rested his head against her shoulder as he erupted until there was nothing left in him.

Hemant gently brought Mrunal back to her feet and kissed her once more as the after effects of his orgasm wore off.

When they finally staggered out, steam following them into the cool suite, they were flushed, slick, and smiling in the glow of their shared indulgence. Towels wrapped around their bodies, they collapsed onto the couch, catching their breaths. Mrunal brushed her damp hair back, turned to him with a sly smile, and said. 

"I’ll admit, Hemant… you surprised me last night. No wonder Pranitha keeps you as her boytoy" 

The teasing lilt in her voice made him chuckle, but beneath it, there was a glint of genuine admiration.

"Boytoy, huh?" 

Hemant let the word linger, feeling a strange satisfaction in the label. For the first time in weeks, after the disaster with Sonarika, he felt alive again. She laughed when he shot her a mock-offended look, then grew serious. 

"But on a serious note—you can’t tell Pranitha about this. I am pretty sure she will be pissed off"

Hemant raised an eyebrow, amused. 

"Don't worry....this is between us" 

His tone was mischievous, but her stern look made him grin. 

"Besides , she won't think about you once I do what I did last night with you on her.....again!" 

Hemant lied , playing along the cover Pranitha made for him. Though after everything , he was definitely thinking about making it a truth in the near future. That made Mrunal’s smile widen, the actress biting her lip to hide her amusement. She glanced at the time and sighed. 

"As much as I’d love to keep this going, I need to head home. Photoshoot in the city this afternoon" 

She rose, tightening her towel, already half lost in her schedule. Hemant nodded, standing as well. 

"And I’ve got to get back to YOD Industries. New projects and frontier preparations" 

Their eyes met one last time, heat still flickering between them. She leaned in, brushing his lips with hers in a lingering kiss. They dressed slowly, almost reluctantly, before leaving the suite hand in hand, both silently agreeing this was no one-time mistake—but a secret affair they’d return to again and again.


SOMETIME LATER AT THE APARTMENT


Sonarika sat stiff on the sofa, her palms pressed together, her pulse thundering in her ears. She had barely slept, replaying yesterday like a punishment—Hemant’s unplanned arrival at Vikram’s apartment, the shock on his face when he saw those walls littered with her smiling photographs. The silence afterward was worse than rage. She braced herself as the front door clicked open. Hemant walked in, his face carrying the same practiced smile, a smile that ignored her entirely.


He showered, dressed neatly, and went straight to Karan. Laughter flowed easily between father and son, as if Sonarika were invisible. Her throat tightened as she watched them, the distance between her and Hemant stretching into an unbridgeable chasm. Once Karan left with her sister Anjali, the house fell silent. She knew there would be no better chance. She rose, legs trembling, and moved toward him.


"Hemant, please" she began, her voice low. 

"I need to explain—"

"Stop" He didn’t even look at her. 

"There’s nothing left to explain. You made your choice. All we’re doing now is waiting for the clock to run down. Endure this house for a few months, then go live with your man. That’s the life you picked. I’m just a formality now"

"Don’t say that! It’s not like that" Her chest ached at the dismissal.

"It’s exactly like that" Hemant shot back, slipping on his watch. 

"You wanted him. You got him. Don’t insult me with excuses"

"I swear, there’s a reason—"

"I don’t care" he barked. His calm mask cracked, his voice cutting sharp. 

"I don’t want your reasons, Sonarika. I’ve heard enough lies"

Something inside her broke. 

"No!" 

Her voice thundered through the room, making him flinch. 

"You will listen! Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I don’t despise myself every time I see his face?"

His jaw tightened. 

"Funny way of showing it. You despise yourself in his bed, in his arms, in his photographs? You look very alive there"

Tears blurred her eyes. 

"You don’t understand! I still see Dilawar. I feel his hands on me every night, the way he clawed at me, the way he laughed. My body healed, Hemant, but my soul didn’t! Your gentleness—it only makes the nightmares louder. I needed to forget, I needed something rougher, harsher—"

"So you chose him!" Hemant’s voice dripped with venom. 

"You opened your wounds and invited another man to dig his claws in. And I’m supposed to applaud this brilliant healing?"

Her lips trembled. 

"Vikram’s roughness silences it. It kills the fear—"

"It also kills us!!" Hemant thundered. His eyes finally burned with rage, the dam breaking. 

"Don’t you get it? Every second you spent with him, you drove a knife deeper into me. My love wasn’t enough. My restraint is being exposed as the greatest sin I've ever committed. So you went crawling to him like some addict looking for poison"

She reached for him, desperate. 

"No, Hemant, it’s not like that—"

"Shut up!" His roar echoed, his face twisted with pain. 

"Every time you try to rebuild this marriage, you burn it to ash yourself. And now you want me to sit here and clap for your explanations?" 

He leaned closer, his voice venomous. 

"Tell me, Sonarika, what do you want me to become? A cuckold? Should I be like Kunal, watching his wife parade her boyfriend like a trophy? Should I sit at Vikram’s bedpost and watch you moan for him? Is that what you want from me?"


"Stop it, Hemant! Please stop!" Her face drained of color. 

He laughed bitterly, his laughter breaking into a sob. 


"Why should I? You’ve already humiliated me enough. You’ve paraded my failure as a husband in front of every shadow of this house. And you stand here telling me it was for your healing? Healing for you is a noose for me"

"I never wanted to hurt you" Her voice cracked. 

"You always hurt me" Hemant spat, his voice raw. 

"Even when you don’t mean to, you tear me apart piece by piece. And you know the worst part? I still love you while you’re busy breaking me" 

His breath shuddered, his body trembling. 

"I’m the fool who holds the knife you stab me with"

He suddenly collapsed to his knees, his shoulders heaving, tears running unchecked. 

"I cherished you as my biggest blessing in life , my ray of light. And you , you're just finding new ways to kill me everyday!" 

His cries filled the room, jagged and broken. Sonarika’s own legs gave way as she fell beside him, clutching him tightly. 

"Don’t say that! Please, I swear to you—"

But Hemant pulled back, his eyes red, his voice quieter but sharper than a blade. 

"No. Don’t you dare swear anything anymore. I’m finished with your pathetic sorrys and excuses. I’ve bled enough for it. If you want to climb out of the abyss you’ve dug for yourself, do it for yourself. Because I won’t be your crutch anymore. Either you suffer in the pit or become someone better. Either way , I am done with you!"

He stood slowly, his tears still fresh but his voice steadier. 

"I’m leaving. I have a company to run, and unlike us, that won’t collapse if I look away for a second" 

He walked past her without another glance, his footsteps echoing through the silent house. Sonarika remained on the floor, shaking, her arms wrapped around herself as though she could hold her own pieces together. The truth crushed her—her marriage was already ashes, her family fractured beyond repair. The man she loved had turned away, not out of hate, but out of exhaustion. She cursed herself under her breath, rocking as if to silence the echoes of his words. For the first time, she knew: she had not only lost Hemant—she had lost herself.

                                                                                                                                                                                                  (CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                      (CHAPTER CONTD)

FEW HOURS LATER



The café was quiet, tucked into a narrow lane away from Mumbai’s usual chaos. Sonarika sat opposite Vikram in a dimly lit corner, her fingers curling around a cup of untouched coffee. Her complexion was pale, her eyes tired and hollow. Across from her, Vikram’s posture was taut, his face betraying the aftershocks of that night when Hemant had walked into his apartment unannounced. Neither of them smiled when they first met each other’s gaze.


"What happened after?" Vikram finally asked, his voice low, careful. 

"I haven’t been able to sleep since… your husband showing up like..... that shook me more than I expected"

Sonarika sighed, looking down at the table. 

"The distance between us… it’s wider than ever, Vicky. He has given up on our marriage. He no longer sees me as his light or a part of his life anymore"

Vikram nodded grimly. 

"I could see it in his eyes that day. The way he looked around at those photographs—I’ll be honest, I thought he might hit me. But instead, he just left. That silence was worse than anger"

Her lips quivered. 

"You didn’t see him later. He cried, Vicky. He told me with tears in his eyes that I was killing him, every single moment I was with you. That broke me more than anything"

Vikram reached across the table, his hand brushing hers gently. 

"Then you need to give him space. You staying under the same roof is like keeping a wound open. Move away from him, Soni. Don’t torture either of you like this"

Her eyes widened. 

"I can’t just leave. My son… my sister… they don’t even know the full truth. How am I supposed to shatter their world overnight?"

"Then change something else" Vikram urged. 

"Change your job. Leave Mumbai, start fresh. Distance will help you breathe again"

Sonarika let out a weak laugh, though it was tinged with bitterness. 

"Where can I possibly find a new job in such a short time? I can barely keep myself together, Vicky"

He leaned forward, a faint spark of hope in his voice. 

"I have contacts in Jabalpur. They can offer you work—something close to what you already do. And you wouldn’t have to be alone. You can live with me there" 

His words hung in the air, heavier than the coffee aroma around them.

For the first time that evening, Sonarika’s lips curved into a faint chuckle. 

"Jabalpur" she murmured. 

"You’re still holding onto that old dream, aren’t you? The one where we wake up together every morning, drink coffee side by side, and pretend we’re just… a normal couple" 

Her chuckle carried a note of nostalgia that softened her pale face. Vikram smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I know it sounds selfish. But maybe it’s not just a dream anymore. You need fresh air, Sonarika. If you stay where you are, this suffering will only multiply. Hemant will keep haunting you, and you’ll never heal"

Her expression flickered between longing and despair. 

"Part of me sees what you’re saying. But separating from Karan… from Anjali… how do I live with that? They’re the only anchors I have left" 

Her voice trembled, heavy with guilt.Vikram squeezed her hand firmly. 

"Don’t decide now. Just think about it. I suggested it because I can’t watch you bleed like this anymore"

Sonarika’s eyes softened. She reached across and caressed his cheek. 

"Even broken as I am, you still want me"

"I’ll heal you" Vikram whispered, his tone both tender and possessive. 

"I’ll drown you in so much love you’ll choke on it"

Her lips curved into a sly smile, a spark of her old mischief slipping through. 

"I already know your method of choking" she teased, her words dripping with innuendo.

For the first time in weeks, both of them laughed—an almost guilty, hushed laughter, but real nonetheless. The heaviness momentarily lifted as Sonarika leaned back in her chair, a small smile lighting her face. 

"God, it feels strange to smile again" she murmured.

Vikram reached for her hand once more, his gaze steady. 

"Then I’ll find new ways to bring that smile out, Sonarika. No matter how long it takes"


She held his hand, staring into his eyes, and for that fleeting moment the storm inside her quieted. For once, she didn’t feel like the broken woman Hemant had left behind. She felt wanted, desired, alive. And though guilt lingered like a shadow, she allowed herself to bask in this rare sliver of happiness, even if it came from the man who made everything so complicated. Back in her room that night, Sonarika sat by the window long after the city had gone quiet. Vikram’s words circled her mind like restless ghosts: fresh air, distance, Jabalpur. She traced the rim of her tea cup with trembling fingers, as though searching for an answer in its fading warmth. Her body still carried the echo of laughter she had shared with him, but the guilt that followed was suffocating.


She pictured Hemant’s tear-stained face, his voice breaking as he accused her of killing him with every moment she spent with Vikram. That memory alone made her chest seize. How could she abandon her son to live in another city when the man she betrayed was still bleeding inside the same house? She pressed her palms against her temples, whispering to herself. 

'I can’t. I can’t do this to Karan. I can’t do this to Anjali'


Yet Vikram’s offer dangled in front of her like forbidden fruit. The vision of waking up in his arms, drinking coffee together, escaping the suffocating silence of her marriage—it stirred something deep inside her. For a moment, she could almost see herself in Jabalpur, free from Hemant’s wounded gaze, free from the nightly terror of seeing Dilawar’s face in her dreams. That temptation made her pulse quicken, and it terrified her.


Her therapist’s advice echoed faintly—focus on small steps, don’t run from your pain. But was staying in Mumbai with Hemant truly healing, or was it slow suicide? She could hear the walls of the house whispering his grief every night. Sonarika tried journaling, but her words spilled out messily: Hemant hates me. Vikram wants me. Karan needs me. I’m trapped. She slammed the notebook shut, tears blurring her vision. Even the act of writing felt like betrayal—to Hemant, to Karan, to herself. She curled into bed, hugging a pillow tight, muttering apologies into the fabric as though her family could hear them through the walls.



The next morning, as she watched Karan prepare for the institute, the thought of leaving him hit her with brutal force. His small frame, his innocent smile—it was unthinkable. If she went to Jabalpur, she would miss these little mornings forever. And yet, Hemant’s cold distance left her hollow. She wondered if staying here meant she was punishing all of them with her presence. Her mind kept replaying Vikram’s voice—soft but insistent: 


"I’ll heal you. I’ll drown you in so much love you’ll choke on it" 


Part of her longed for that drowning, for a love so consuming it would erase her shame. But another part recoiled, knowing that any step toward Vikram widened the wound between her and Hemant beyond repair. One evening, Sonarika stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection. The woman in the mirror looked fragile, broken, but still undeniably alive. She touched her own face, whispering, 


"Who are you becoming?" 

Behind her, she imagined two silhouettes—Hemant, silent and bleeding, and Vikram, smiling and waiting. She realized she couldn’t stand in both shadows forever. That night, as Karan fell asleep beside her again, Sonarika pressed her lips to his forehead and whispered. 

"I’ll never leave you" 

Yet even as the promise left her lips, she felt the lie beneath it. The choice Vikram had put before her was poisoning every corner of her mind. Whether she chose to stay or to go, something—someone—would be lost forever.


FEW DAYS LATER AT THE CAFE NEAR TANISHQ



The café buzzed with chatter, but Sonarika barely noticed. Across from her sat Meghna, her best friend, the one she always leaned on when life became unbearable. Today, however, Sonarika looked especially fragile. Her hands trembled as she stirred her coffee without drinking it, her eyes distant as though still carrying Hemant’s hollow stare. Meghna leaned forward, concern etched convincingly on her face. 

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sonarika. What’s wrong?"

Sonarika exhaled shakily. 

"It’s Vikram. He suggested… leaving Mumbai. Maybe Jabalpur. He thinks I need distance from Hemant to breathe again. And he’s right, maybe. But if I do that, Meghna, I’ll be giving up my family. Karan, Anjali… everything" 

She paused, her voice breaking. 

"I’m terrified. What if running to Vikram means losing them forever?"

For a brief second, Meghna’s mask slipped. Leave Mumbai? The thought stabbed at her chest—if Sonarika left, she would lose all the control she had so carefully spun. She quickly recovered, feigning surprise, shaking her head. 

"No, no, no, Sonarika. You can’t throw away your life like that. Your career, your position—it took you years to become Chief Operations Manager at Tanishq. You’d really abandon all that?"

Sonarika bit her lip, guilt washing over her. 

"I haven’t thought about work. I’ve only thought about the silence at home. Hemant barely speaks to me. He looks at me like… like I’m poison"

Meghna tilted her head, eyes sharp despite her sympathetic smile. 

"And why are you the one running away, Sona? You didn’t do anything wrong. You followed your heart, that’s all. You went to a man who actually loves you, unlike your loser husband who never satisfied you"


Sonarika’s face hardened instantly, her eyes flashing. 

"Don’t. Don’t you dare talk about Hemant like that" 

Her voice rose, trembling with both anger and shame. 

"You don’t know what he’s been through. What I’ve put him through. Whatever you think of him, he is not a loser" 

The table fell silent between them, Sonarika’s breathing heavy.

Meghna raised her palms in mock surrender, masking her inner delight. Perfect, she thought. She’s still split down the middle—loyal to him, yet tied to Vikram. I can use that. Out loud, she softened her tone. 

"Alright, alright. I won’t say anything more. But be honest, Sona. You can’t just quit your job, can you? You worked too hard for this. And besides, why move to Jabalpur when Vikram’s right here in Mumbai?"


Sonarika shook her head firmly. 

"No. Moving into his apartment is a bad idea. It’s too small, too cramped. Honestly, I don’t even know why Vikram still lives there. A millionaire like him, and he hasn’t even thought about something bigger. It’s… odd"


Meghna’s eyes gleamed. 

"Then let me talk to him. Maybe you two could find a new place together here in Mumbai. Something with space, comfort, a fresh start. Imagine waking up with him every day, building a life in a home that’s truly yours. Doesn’t that sound better than running away to some other city?"


Sonarika leaned back, her mind whirling. The idea wasn’t without appeal—fresh walls, new beginnings, no Hemant watching her with hollow eyes. Yet guilt pulled her back like chains. 

"I’ll… think about it" she whispered at last. 

"Thank you, Meghna. At least you listen to me without judgment"

Meghna smiled warmly, reaching over to squeeze her hand. 

"Always, Sonarika. You know I only want the best for you" 

But as Sonarika gathered her bag and walked away, Meghna’s expression shifted. A slow grin curled her lips, her eyes darkening with satisfaction. Yes. Keep crumbling, Sonarika. Step by step, I’ll drag you exactly where you belong. You’ll pay for what Jagjeet did, and you won’t even see it coming.

Back in her car, Sonarika gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary. Meghna’s words echoed mercilessly: 

"Why are you running when you did nothing wrong? Move into Vikram’s place. Build a new life here" 

She wanted to dismiss it, to laugh it off as reckless, but instead the poison lingered. It didn’t matter how much she tried to shut it out—every line replayed in her head, twisting into a cruel kind of logic. At home, she paced her bedroom, her hands restless. The idea of abandoning her job stung her pride—Meghna had been right about that. She had worked too hard to become Chief Operations Manager at Tanishq. Could she really throw it all away? But the thought of moving in with Vikram made her stomach churn. His flat was too small, too temporary, and Hemant’s ghost would haunt every corner of this city. Yet… was Jabalpur any better?


Two nights later, she found herself at Vikram’s apartment again, this time willingly. The walls, once adorned with her smiling photographs, felt like they were closing in. She sat on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest, while Vikram poured two glasses of wine. 

"You look tense" he observed, sitting beside her. 

"Is this about Hemant again?"

"No" she said softly, then corrected herself. 

"Yes. And no. It’s… it’s Meghna. I met her the other day. I told her about your suggestion—moving to Jabalpur. She flipped. Said I’d be a fool to leave my career behind. She thinks… she thinks I should move in with you instead"

Vikram stiffened, his brows knitting. 

"Move in here?" He gestured around at the modest space. 

"This place is a box, Soni. You’d hate it after a week. And honestly, you’re right—someone like me should’ve moved into a bigger place long ago. I just never cared enough. But if you were with me, I would"


Her lips twisted into a bitter half-smile. 

"That’s what she said too. That maybe we should get a new place together, somewhere more comfortable. Start fresh right here in Mumbai" 

She studied his face carefully. 

"Is that what you want, Vicky? A house with me in it? Coffee in the mornings, dinners at night, the whole picture?"

He leaned closer, his voice husky. 

"Of course I want that. I’ve always wanted that. But it’s not about what I want—it’s about what you can live with. If Hemant’s presence is tearing you apart, staying in Mumbai won’t fix that. You’ll just see his shadow everywhere. That’s why I said Jabalpur. That’s why I said distance"


She swallowed hard, the cushion clutched tighter against her. 

"But Meghna made it sound so easy. Like I’m running away for no reason. Like Hemant doesn’t matter because he couldn’t give me what you did" 

Her voice cracked. 

"But he does matter, Vicky. He always will. I don’t care what anyone says, I can’t let people trash him like that. He may not have been rough or wild, but he’s not a loser. He’s… he’s Hemant"


Vikram placed his hand over hers, squeezing firmly. 

"And that right there, Soni, is your prison. You’re trying to carry guilt for both of you, and it’s eating you alive. You love your son, you love your sister, you even care about Hemant’s pain—but who cares about you? Only me. Only I’m here saying I’ll take you out of this hell"


Her eyes shimmered with tears. 

"Then why do I feel like whichever choice I make, I’ll destroy someone? If I stay, I keep killing Hemant slowly. If I leave, I break my son’s heart. And if I run to Jabalpur, I kill my own career. Everything is death no matter where I turn"


Vikram pulled her into his arms, his voice low against her hair. 

"Then let me be your life. Forget what Meghna says, forget Hemant’s guilt trips. You’re mine, Soni. With me, you’ll breathe again. And I’ll make sure you never have to choke on your past—only on my love"


She laughed softly through her tears, smacking his chest. 

"God, you and your choking metaphors. You’re incorrigible" 

For a fleeting second, the heaviness lifted. Yet even as she smiled, the conflict gnawed deeper inside her. Meghna’s poisoned advice had rooted itself in her thoughts, and no embrace, no laughter, could wash it away.


FEW DAYS LATER AT AN ART GALLERY



The gallery’s walls gleamed with abstract canvases, but Sonarika hardly noticed the art. Her eyes swept across the murmuring crowd of their social circle until she found Mouni, glass of red wine in hand, leaning lazily against a column. Their eyes met, and Mouni smirked as though she had been expecting her.


"Sonarika" Mouni purred, brushing her hair over one shoulder. 

"Didn’t expect to see you tonight. How’s the… cooling period treating you?" 

Her tone dripped with irony. Sonarika forced a thin smile. 

"Survivable. Though, I wanted to ask you something" 

She tilted her head, studying Mouni. 

"How’s the equation between you and Kunal? Last I heard, things were… unconventional"


Mouni rolled her eyes and took a slow sip. 

"Equation? There’s hardly one left. Kunal’s buried in his business; I barely see him. Meanwhile, Sagar practically lives in our house now. My so-called husband’s separation from me—I should thank your Hemant for that. He’s the one undoing the little ‘cuckold’ world Kunal built for us"

Sonarika blinked, unsettled.

"Isn’t that a good thing? I mean… if Hemant made him rethink things—doesn’t that help you both?"

"Help?" Mouni snapped, her voice sharp. 

"I never chose this, Sonarika. Kunal pushed me into Sagar’s arms to fulfill his twisted fantasy. For years he didn’t complain, not once. Now, suddenly, Hemant poisons his mind with ‘sanity’—and Kunal thinks we can go back to being a normal couple. Impossible. Not when I’ve given myself completely to Sagar"

A small, wry smile tugged at Sonarika’s lips. 

"So it’s not just one marriage falling apart, then. Mine’s hanging by threads too. Seems Hemant has a knack for unraveling relationships"

Mouni’s eyes gleamed with malice. 

"At least I can take comfort knowing Hemant got something in return for messing with my life"

Sonarika stiffened, the jab hitting her raw nerve. 

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means" Mouni said coldly. 

"I was happy, Kunal was happy, everything was… functioning. As normal as it could. Then your precious husband made him grow a spine. And now my house is chaos"

Sonarika’s face hardened, her words dripping with quiet venom. 

"Nothing about your lifestyle is normal, Mouni"

Mouni smirked, her tone biting. 

"That’s rich—coming from you. You cheated on your husband behind his back and still try to claim some high ground of rationality. At least I didn’t sneak. At least mine was transparent"


Sonarika’s anger flared, her jaw tightening, but after a moment she forced herself calm. 

"Those taunts don’t work anymore. Hemant’s already torn me apart with his words and his silence. Nothing you say can hurt worse than what I’ve already endured"

Her voice steadied, cutting with quiet clarity. 

"But at least I know what I’m losing. At least I know how much it’ll hurt, how much I’ll miss it. You, Mouni? You won’t realize what you’ve lost until it’s too late. Until there’s nothing left of Kunal but resentment"

Mouni chuckled low, a smug smile curving her lips. 

"We’ll see about that" 

She flicked her wrist dismissively, turned on her heel, and drifted toward another cluster of guests, leaving Sonarika standing alone in the halo of gallery lights, her chest heaving.


FEW HOURS LATER AT A LAVISH RESTAURANT


The dim glow of the restaurant’s lamps reflected off polished wine glasses, creating an atmosphere that seemed too calm for Sonarika’s restless mind. She stirred her soup absentmindedly, eyes distant. Across the table, Vikram watched her with quiet patience until finally, she spoke. 

"Mouni hasn’t changed at all. She’s still so… condescending. Ignorant of what Kunal’s going through, as if his pain is just an inconvenience to her indulgence"


Vikram leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the stem of his glass. 

"Can you blame her though? It was Kunal who opened that door. He pushed her into that lifestyle. Once you go down that path, Soni, there’s rarely a way back. She’s just living the reality he created"

Sonarika’s brow furrowed. 

"That doesn’t excuse her cruelty. She talks like Kunal is a burden instead of her husband"


"I know" Vikram said evenly. 

"That’s why I’ve told Sagar before—if he’s so serious about Mouni, he should step up. Push her to end it with Kunal. Free the man. At least then Kunal and Mouni’s kids would grow up with some clarity, instead of this circus"


Sonarika set her spoon down, stunned. 

"You… you actually told Sagar to encourage divorce? That’s extreme, Vikram"


He nodded, calm but firm. 

"It’s not extreme, it’s practical. Look at them—they’ll never go back to being a couple. Better to rip the bandage off than keep bleeding each other dry. Sometimes separation is the only cure"

She let out a faint, ironic laugh, her eyes narrowing. 

"Just like how you’re pushing me to separate from Hemant, so you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of with me"

Vikram leaned forward, his voice soft but steady. 

"Don’t twist it, Soni. My feelings for you aren’t born from scheming. I have no ill will towards Hemant. You know how I grew up—surrounded by people who believed in… alternative lifestyles. To me, those things were normal. But then I met you. And for the first time, I understood what real commitment meant. What it means to truly know someone"


Sonarika’s face softened, but she still shook her head. 

"Even if I choose you, Vicky, we can’t just rush into marriage. Imagine what people will say—Hemant and I barely divorced, and suddenly I’m Mrs. Vikram Bajaj? It’ll kill whatever little social life I have left"


Vikram chuckled faintly, lifting his glass. 

"Then we won’t rush. We’ll take our time. I don’t care about the label—marriage, papers, ceremonies. If you want a live-in relationship, fine. As long as I wake up next to you, that’s enough for me"


She sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. 

"I’m still confused, Vicky. But one thing I know—I need fresh air. A new perspective. Because right now, everything feels suffocating"

His eyes lit with a smile, warm but almost pleading. 

"That’s all I need to hear—that you’re even considering a life with me. That you’re willing to step into something new"

Sonarika leaned back, her expression shadowed by resignation. 

"Don’t mistake it for hope. I’m making that decision because I don’t have any choice left. I can’t keep wounding Hemant. I need to step away, so he can finally be free from the worst virus in his life—me"

Vikram froze for a moment at her words, his jaw tightening, but then he reached across the table, grasping her hand firmly. 

"You’re not a virus, Soni. You’re the best energy drink for me!"

                                                                                                                                                                                                  (CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                     (CHAPTER CONTD)

SOMEDAYS LATER AT RAGINI'S APARTMENT



The faint smell of sandalwood filled Ragini’s apartment, calm and soothing, the kind of environment that usually helped Sonarika breathe easier. The evening sunlight fell through the sheer curtains, painting the walls in quiet amber. But today, peace refused to stay. Ragini poured two cups of herbal tea, her movements unhurried, though she could already sense that Sonarika hadn’t come just for small talk. Her friend sat on the couch—stiff, pale, her fingers nervously fidgeting with her bracelet.

"Here" Ragini said softly, handing her the cup. 

"You look like you’ve been awake all night. What’s wrong?"

Sonarika hesitated. Her lips trembled as she tried to find the right words. Then, like something snapping, she spoke in a rush. 

"I made the same mistake again, Ragini"

Ragini froze, her tea untouched. 

"What do you mean?"

Sonarika lowered her eyes, her voice breaking. 

"I went back to Vikram. I… slept with him again"

For a moment, silence consumed the room. The ticking clock on the wall grew deafening. Then Ragini set her cup down, her calm cracking into sharp disbelief. 

"Sonarika—no. Not again" Her voice was low, angry, trembling with concern. 

"You were supposed to be done with it. You knew what it did to you last time"

"I know!" Sonarika cried out, clutching her head. 

"I thought I was stronger this time, that I could stay away. But the moment I saw him, I—" 

She broke off, breath quivering. 

"I couldn’t help it. He has this hold on me, Ragini. I feel like I lose control of my body when he’s near"

Ragini’s face hardened. 

"You’re not a child, Sona. You don’t lose control—you let him take it from you. You’re feeding the same wound that’s destroying you"

Tears streamed down Sonarika’s cheeks. 

"You don’t understand. I tried everything. Hemant’s tenderness, his gentleness—it feels distant, like a lullaby I can’t hear anymore. And Vikram…" 

She swallowed hard, her voice softening into something shameful. 

"Vikram tempts me. He’s like gravity. I hate myself for it, but I crave him. His touch silences the noise inside me for a while"

Ragini looked away, fighting her own frustration. When she finally met Sonarika’s eyes, her expression had changed—less angry, more haunted. 

"Do you remember what Dr. Neha said about your accident? How your head injury could’ve affected your emotional regulation? The impulsiveness, the dependency?"

Sonarika blinked, confused. 

"She mentioned something… about that. But I thought it was just a theory"

Ragini leaned forward, her tone turning serious. 

"It’s not just a theory anymore, Sonarika. I’ve seen it. You’re repeating the same pattern no matter how much pain it brings you. That’s not just emotional weakness—it’s neurological. It’s like your mind is addicted to the chaos he gives you"

Sonarika’s eyes widened, her lips parting as the words sank in. 

"Addicted? You think I’m addicted to Vikram?"

"I think something’s wrong, yes" Ragini said firmly. 

"And we’re not going to fix it with therapy sessions alone. I need you to trust me"

"How?" Sonarika whispered, her voice small.

Ragini stood, walked to her writing desk, and picked up a small notebook filled with scribbles and folded notes. She flipped through a few pages before speaking again. 

"Can you take a day off this week?"

"Yes, I can. Why?"

"Because I want to take you somewhere" Ragini said, closing the notebook. 

"Somewhere important. Somewhere to finf out about you. We’ll figure this out together—what’s actually happening to you. But I need you to trust me completely"

Sonarika frowned, confused. 

"Where are we going?"

Ragini smiled gently but didn’t answer. 

"You’ll see when we get there. Just promise me one thing—don’t tell anyone about it. Not Hemant. Not Vikram. Not even Anjali. The fewer people who know, the better"

Sonarika hesitated. There was something strange about Ragini’s tone—not frightening, but heavy, almost secretive. 

"Ragini, you’re making this sound serious"

"It is serious" Ragini replied softly. 

"But not hopeless. I promise, Sona—whatever this is, we’ll find the root of it. You’ve been fighting yourself long enough. Let me help you understand why"

Sonarika stared at her friend, tears glistening in her eyes. 

"I don’t know what I’d do without you"

Ragini smiled faintly and crossed the room to embrace her. 

"What are friends for. Just be ready that day. No more running from yourself"

Sonarika nodded against her shoulder, her voice trembling. 

"Thank you, Ragini. Really"

Ragini’s arms tightened briefly before letting her go. 

"Good. Then we start soon"

As Sonarika gathered her things to leave, she glanced back once more. Ragini stood by the window, watching the fading light with a thoughtful expression. For a brief moment, Sonarika wondered if there was something Ragini wasn’t saying—something behind those careful, knowing eyes.

But then she dismissed it. Ragini had been her savior. Her friend. Her only hope.



ONE FINE DAY


The corridors of Neuro Vision Hospital felt colder than Sonarika expected. White walls, antiseptic smell, distant hum of machines; it all pressed down on her like a silent weight. She clutched her handbag tightly, following Ragini through the glass doors. Inside, a familiar voice called her name. Sonarika turned sharply. Dr. Neha Bharadwaj stood near the reception desk, her calm professional smile in place.

"Neha?" Sonarika blinked. 

"What are you doing here? I thought this was just a talk Ragini wanted us to do. Why are we in a hospital?"

Neha’s smile softened. 

"It’s time to tell you the truth, Sonarika. We’re not here for a routine checkup. We’re here to understand what’s happening to you"

A flicker of unease rippled through Sonarika’s chest. She looked from Neha to Ragini. 

"You both are scaring me. What is this?"

Ragini gently took her arm. 

"Come with us. Please. You’re safe"

They led her through a quiet wing of the hospital to a frosted glass door marked Dr. Sangeetha Awasthi, Neurology. Inside, a woman in her late forties with sharp but kind eyes stood waiting, her white coat crisp, her hands clasped.

"Mrs. Sonarika Kumar" Dr. Awasthi said warmly. 

"Welcome. I’m Dr. Sangeetha Awasthi. We’ve set everything up already"

"Setup?" Sonarika’s voice cracked. 

"For what?"

Dr. Awasthi stepped closer. 

"An MRI scan. We need to look at your brain activity in real time. It’s completely safe, I promise"

Sonarika glanced between the three women, fear flickering in her eyes. 

"MRI? Why? What’s wrong with me?"

Neha placed a hand on her shoulder. 

"Nothing life-threatening. We’re here because we care. Please trust us"

Ragini nodded. 

"You’re not alone, Sona. We’re with you, no matter what"

Sonarika bit her lip, trembling slightly. 

"Alright. I’ll do it"

Minutes later, she was lying on a padded bed as the MRI machine loomed above her like a white tunnel. The nurse adjusted her head gently, slid her inside. The low, rhythmic thumping of the magnets started. Sonarika closed her eyes, gripping her palms. She felt like she was surrendering herself to some invisible judgment. Upstairs in the observation deck, Dr. Awasthi studied the monitor while Neha and Ragini stood behind her. The scan’s colored images shifted and pulsed. After several tense minutes, Awasthi exhaled slowly, her expression grave.

"You were right, Neha" she murmured. 

"The lesion from her old injury hasn’t just persisted—it’s been showing erratic decomposition. Look here, in the prefrontal region… these signals correlate with impulse regulation and sexual drive"

Neha’s jaw tightened. 

"This confirms it"

Ragini swallowed hard. 

"So it’s not just in her head…"

"No" Awasthi said firmly. 

"Her hypersexuality isn’t merely behavioral. It’s neurological"

When the scan ended, Sonarika was led to a private recovery room—soft lighting, a couch, a small table with water. She sat on the edge of the couch, twisting her fingers nervously. All three women stood near the doorway, strangely quiet.

"Why are you all so silent?" Sonarika whispered. 

"You’re scaring me. Please… just tell me"

Ragini moved first, sitting beside her. She took Sonarika’s cold hands in hers. 

"Sonarika, remember when Neha told you to be cautious with your actions?"

Sonarika nodded faintly. “Yes… she said I should be mindful. Why?”

"Because" Ragini said softly but firmly. 

"The things you’ve been doing lately—the impulsiveness, the craving, the choices—they’re not entirely conscious decisions. You’ve been fighting something you didn’t even know was inside you. Something that made you make those reckless decisions"

Sonarika blinked, her breath hitching. 

"What are you saying?"

Neha knelt in front of her. 

"Sonarika… you’re suffering from something called Cognitive Hypersexuality. It’s a rare condition where damage to certain parts of the brain creates compulsive sexual behavior. In your case, it stems from the head injury you had as a teenager"

Sonarika stared, stunned. 

"Head injury…? You mean the grill incident from Delhi? But I was already healed from it!"

Neha nodded. 

"Not exactly Sonarika. The injury decomposed and left a lesion. Over time, it’s influenced your impulses. When you were initially recovering from that , whatever feelings and actions you had , the injury amplified it. Those frequent visits to your then-boyfriend, the sexual intensity—it wasn’t just youthful recklessness. It was this condition slowly manifesting.”

Tears welled in Sonarika’s eyes. Neha continued.

"This is the reason you had a mental breakdown when you broke up with Rocky. Because you were being already addicted to the sex and him leaving made you desperate for it" 

Sonarika was still overwhelmed with emotions until doubt crossed her mind.

"But…...Hemant? I wasn't addicted to him? We had a normal marriage for years"

"Actually you did , you said to me in our therapy sessions how much both of you had trouble keeping their hands off of each other when you were freshly married. Only difference is Hemant wasn't a full on participant like Rocky or Vikram were. He came in your life with limitations , brought romance in a way you never felt before"

Sonarika remembered it , Neha was showing her the mirror of their marriage. Every kiss , every touch , it wasn't fuelled by intimacy , it was by love. She remembers the first time she had sex and how when he buried himself inside her , she didn't move. Just stared at him , look him in the eyes and felt him. Both their eyes wet with tears because in those moments , it was not just their bodies that were conjoining , but their souls were copulating with each other. 

"Hemant gave you a new perspective, a different life lesson you never got. When submission and reliance was your relationship dynamic with Rocky. Hemant brought the domain of responsibility , support and the true meaning of companionship with you. With him , you were no longer being obedient or submissive. You were treated as his equal , a partner" 

Neha explained gently. 

"His stability, his steadiness—they distracted your brain. Your marriage, even when you believed was actually boring, was actually protecting you. It was a counterweight to the condition"

Ragini’s voice trembled as she added. 

"And when Vikram, he triggered the old pathways. Heightened your urges. That’s why you feel so powerless around him—it’s your brain, not your soul"

Sonarika gasped, her whole body trembling. Memories flashed—their honeymoon, the first outdoor intimacy in Goa, the kitchen encounter she believed conceived Karan , the start of Vikram at Jabalpur , countless sex at Galaxy Apartments , trip of Bali , return to Vikram. All those moments of intensity now tinged with a new, horrifying clarity.

"I’m… I’m broken" she whispered. 

"I’m sick. Everything I’ve done… it’s me but not me. I’ve destroyed my life. I don’t deserve anything. I’m not worth saving. Maybe I should just—"

"Stop" Neha’s tone was firm but kind. She took Sonarika’s face in her hands. 

"This is not a death sentence. You are not a monster. This is a medical condition. It can be treated, managed. But you have to fight. You have to let us help you"

Ragini wrapped her arms around Sonarika from behind. 

"We’re here, Sona. All of us. No matter how dark this feels, you’re not alone anymore"

Sonarika sobbed into Ragini’s arms, shaking violently. 

"I ruined everything… Hemant, Karan, my marriage, and now even Vikram…"

Neha stroked her hair. 

"You’re not ruined. You’re hurt. And hurt people can heal"

For the first time in months, Sonarika let herself be held without resisting. Her tears wet Ragini’s shoulder, but Ragini didn’t move. She held on tighter, as if anchoring her friend to the earth.

"Let’s go home" Ragini said softly.

"My place. You need rest, safety, quiet. We’ll figure out the next step together"

Sonarika nodded weakly. She didn’t have words left. Because right now , her world was turned upside down , realizing that she was always sick and was neither loyal to Hemant nor to Vikram.



Ragini’s apartment was silent except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in slivers of pale afternoon light that painted the floor in uneven lines. Sonarika sat curled up on the couch, her knees drawn to her chest, her face pale and blank. Ragini set a glass of water near her. 

"Drink a little" she said softly.

Sonarika didn’t move. Her voice, when it came, was almost a whisper. 

"All of this… all this time, I thought I was making choices. But it was living to a sickness that controlled me"

Ragini sat beside her. 

"It wasn’t your fault"

Sonarika shook her head slowly. 

"You don’t understand. I remember everything now—how it started"

Her eyes stared into the distance, unfocused. 

"I was sixteen when I met Rocky. He was my first love… and I couldn’t explain how it started but whatever it was , it began right after the accident. We spent hours together—fucking , exploring each other. I thought it was love, but it was something deeper, something darker. I couldn’t stop wanting him. Even when he ignored me, I kept going back. I didn’t know why. It was like I was addicted to the rush, to the need itself"

She paused, gripping the edge of the sofa. 

"When he left… it felt like someone ripped a piece of me out. I cried for weeks, but now I realize , it was not out of heartbreak—out of withdrawal. I couldn’t breathe without that chaos"

Ragini said nothing. She just let the words come.

"And then I met Hemant, everything changed. He was quiet, steady, kind. He was suffering with his darkness just like me and then we forged out lights together. And for the first time since my head injury, I felt peace. I thought, this is it—this is normal. The early days of marriage were warm, full of laughter and… closeness. I thought I was healed" 

She smiled faintly, then her expression crumbled. 

"But even then, I was the one who kept pushing for more, every night, as if I craved more from him. All my life I believed Hemant was holding back his true form , but in reality , Hemant never saw the real me. My sickness , it was holding me back!"

She took a trembling breath. 

"After Karan’s birth, things slowed down. And that frustration started to grow slowly , the same feeling I had when Rocky left me. All this time I thought it was the staleness of our marriage , but turns out it was my sickness clawing its way back to my senses. And then… then Vikram came"

The way she said his name was half regret, half yearning.

"Now I understand why I was so powerless with him. But soon, that familiar fire came back. I told myself it was a deeper feeling, that I was getting something from Vikram that I wasn't getting from Hemant at that time , completeness. But it wasn’t that. It was the same hunger that burned me before, only stronger. It took over everything—my thoughts, my body, my decisions. And I let it"

Tears slid down her cheeks. 

"Every time I told myself this is the last time, something inside me laughed. And I would go back. I thought I was in control, but I wasn’t. I was losing myself piece by piece.”

Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her temples. 

"There were moments, even in the worst times, when I could feel that pull—to surrender, to stop fighting, to give in no matter what. And now I realize that’s my weakness. That’s what this thing inside me does—it turns pain into temptation.”

She buried her face in her hands, her voice breaking. 

"I’m dangerous, Ragini. For everyone. For Hemant, for Vikram, for myself. I destroy whatever loves me. How do you heal something like that? How do you fix a brain that doesn’t know how to stop?"

Ragini reached for her hand, but Sonarika recoiled, shaking her head violently. 

"No! Don’t touch me. You shouldn’t even be near me. I don’t deserve any of you"

Then another voice spoke gently from the doorway. 

"That’s enough"

Neha stepped into the room, her expression calm but firm. 

"You don’t get to decide what you deserve, Sonarika. You get to decide whether you want to heal"

Sonarika lifted her tear-streaked face. 

"You don't understand Neha. That night when I was captive under Dilawar , there was a moment when I stopped fighting , my senses going crazy. I thought at that time it was panic , but it was my sickness , I was getting excited to Dilawar's advances , his roughness. The sickness was finding pleasure in it. And I was disgusted beyond myself about it. It's pointless , I am a wreck , I don't deserve redemption. Why would you want to help me?"

"Because you’re not beyond repair" Neha said. 

"Your brain can recover. Your patterns can change. This condition doesn’t define your soul, only your chemistry. And chemistry can be treated. More importantly you are now aware of your sickness , we kept it from you because we wanted to know whether you were capable to understand your own problem. But since we learn't you were going overboard with Vikram , we had to step in to help you. This is not the end Sonarika , you can still find your way to heal"

Ragini wiped a tear from Sonarika’s cheek. 

"You don’t have to do this alone. You have us now. We’ll walk you through every step, no matter how hard it gets"

Sonarika broke down completely then, sobbing into her hands as Neha and Ragini held her from both sides. It wasn’t just grief—it was the release of years of guilt, of self-loathing, of a truth she’d been too afraid to face.

Between the shudders of her breathing, she whispered. 

"I want to be free. Please… I want to be normal”

Neha’s voice was soft but unwavering. 

"Then that’s where we’ll start. This is where your true fight begins!"

                                                                                                                                                                                                        (CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                          (CHAPTER CONTD)

The soft chime of the wall clock filled Dr. Neha Bharadwaj’s clinic, a serene place tucked in a quiet corner of Bandra. Sunlight filtered gently through the bamboo blinds, falling across the bookshelves lined with medical journals, psychology case studies, and a single vase of fresh lilies. It smelled faintly of coffee and eucalyptus — calm, clean, and safe. Sonarika sat on the cushioned chair facing Neha’s desk, her hands clasped together. She looked fragile but composed, the storm of the previous night replaced by an eerie quiet. Beside her sat Ragini, notebook in hand, her expression watchful but encouraging.


Neha looked up from her tablet, her voice even and warm. 

"Good morning, Sonarika. I know yesterday was a lot to take in. How are you feeling today?"

Sonarika managed a faint smile. 

"Like I finally saw the wreckage of my own devastation. I’m still scared, but… at least I know what I’m trying to salvage"

"That’s a good start" Neha said, leaning back slightly in her chair. 

"Awareness is the first victory"

She tapped her tablet and turned it toward Sonarika. 

"I’ve redesigned your daily routine. It might feel restrictive at first, but structure is what your brain needs most right now. You’ll wake at six every morning, take a light walk or some yoga, then have one hour of reading before breakfast. After that, focus on small chores or work that keeps you engaged but not overstimulated"

"Reading?" Sonarika asked with a weak chuckle. 

"It’s been years since I picked up a book"

"That’s exactly why it will help" Neha replied. 

"Reading creates mental rhythm, gives your thoughts direction. When your mind is restless, it looks for stimulation — in your case, that turns into compulsion. Reading will give it a safe place to rest"

Ragini smiled softly. 

"I can bring her a few books to start with. Something light, maybe some poetry or travel essays"

"Perfect" Neha nodded. 

"And in the evenings, try mindfulness exercises or journaling. Write down your thoughts — not to analyze them, but to release them. The more we reduce what you suppress, the weaker your impulses become"

Sonarika listened intently, almost afraid to interrupt.

Then Neha reached for a small white bottle on her desk. 

"This is your new prescription. It’s meant to repair the damaged neural pathways in your frontal cortex and stabilize your emotional processing. You may feel lightheaded for a few days, but that will pass"

Sonarika stared at the bottle. 

"So this is what will fix me?" she whispered.

Neha shook her head gently. 

"No, Sonarika. This will help you fix yourself. The medicine stabilizes the brain; it doesn’t heal the heart. That part, you have to do"

There was a pause. Neha’s tone grew firmer now, though still compassionate. 

"To truly heal, you’ll need to make some very hard choices. This includes a complete withdrawal from anything that fuels your condition — especially sexual activity of any kind. No intimacy, no indulgent thoughts, no temptation. You’ll need to retrain your body to find calm in silence, not stimulation"

The words struck Sonarika hard. For a long moment, she just sat still, her breath trembling. 

"So I have to stop… everything?"

"Yes" Neha said simply. 

"Your brain is wired to associate emotional pain with physical release. Until we break that link, every step forward will pull you two steps back. It won’t be easy, but it’s possible. And every day you resist is a day your mind learns control again"

Sonarika closed her eyes. Her hands shook slightly, but she nodded. 

"No more running, then. No more hiding behind excuses"

Ragini reached across the small table and gently touched her wrist. 

"You’re stronger than you think, Sonarika. You just need to remember that strength"

A tear slipped down Sonarika’s cheek, but this time, it wasn’t despair — it was relief. 

"For the first time… I think I actually believe that"

She wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing. 

"There’s something else I’ve been thinking about. Before all this… I was considering moving away from Mumbai. I thought it was just me running from my guilt, but now… it feels like I should. For everyone’s safety. For Karan, for Hemant, even for myself"

Neha and Ragini exchanged a quiet glance.

Ragini spoke first. 

"It’s not a bad idea. A change of environment could really help your recovery. New air, new rhythm — it can reset your system"

Neha nodded thoughtfully. 

"If you do, we’ll coordinate with a local therapist there to continue your sessions remotely. But take your time to decide. This time, you’re not escaping — you’re choosing peace"

Sonarika looked up, her expression soft but resolute. 

"Then maybe it’s time I finally choose peace"

Neha smiled — the first genuine smile of the session. 

"That’s the best decision you’ve made today"

Ragini stood and gently helped Sonarika up. 

"Come on, I’ll drop you home. You’ll start your new schedule tomorrow"

As they reached the door, Sonarika turned back to Neha, her voice low but filled with fragile hope. 

"Thank you… both of you. For not giving up on me"

Neha replied simply, 

"Healing isn’t about perfection, Sonarika. It’s about persistence. And I see that in you"

Sonarika stepped out into the late morning light — the city still loud, the streets still familiar — but for the first time in months, she didn’t feel trapped in it. The world felt a little wider, and her mind, a little quieter. And as she walked beside Ragini, she whispered almost to herself. 

"Maybe… this time, I’ll finally become the woman I am meant to be"


The first few days of her new schedule were the hardest. Sonarika woke before sunrise, often after a restless night of half-sleep and scattered thoughts. The silence of dawn made her feel exposed, the emptiness of her mind almost unbearable. But Neha’s voice echoed in her head — structure will save you. So, she forced herself to move. A small yoga mat in the living room became her first battleground against the chaos within. Her body trembled, her breath shallow, but every stretch, every slow inhale, every moment she resisted her mind’s darker urges — it was a small victory.


After her morning walk, she would sit by the window with a cup of tea and a book. At first, she struggled to focus. Words blurred; her mind wandered to forbidden places. But she kept at it, tracing each line with her finger, whispering them softly until they began to settle into her thoughts. By the end of the week, she could finish a few pages without drifting. Her days became a rhythm of quiet persistence. She made breakfast for Karan and Anjali, helped Karan with his homework, and sometimes watched him play in the living room, his laughter slowly softening her broken heart. But when she saw Hemant, her breath would falter. He spoke to her only when necessary — a cold politeness, a wall of indifference she knew she deserved.

One evening, when he returned from work, she tried to speak, just a small thank you for buying Karan’s art supplies. He didn’t even look at her. 

"Keep it" he said flatly, before disappearing into his room.

Sonarika didn’t follow. Not this time. She sat in silence, the ache in her chest deep but no longer unbearable. She told herself — you’re healing, not begging. By the second week, Neha had increased her reading hours. Sonarika visited a small Crosswords bookstore near Linking Road. It was a Sunday afternoon; the city buzzed outside, but inside, the store was quiet and cool. She walked between the aisles, tracing her fingers along the spines of books, unsure what she was looking for — until she stumbled upon a section marked 

'Nature and Botany'

She paused. There it was — a book titled The Secret Life of Plants. The glossy cover showed a single green sprout breaking through the soil, reaching for light. Something inside her stirred — a faint tug of memory, soft but deep. She picked up more: Flora of India, Gardens of the Mind, Botanical Sketching for Beginners. She didn’t even realize her hands were trembling. At the counter, as the clerk bagged her purchases, she smiled faintly — the first genuine smile she’d felt in weeks.


That night, sitting by her window, she opened The Secret Life of Plants. The scent of paper and ink filled the room, and with every page, her mind drifted backward — to her college days, before the accident, before everything changed. She saw herself in her green apron at Vrindavan Nursery, hands buried in soil, sunlight on her cheeks, laughter in her voice. She remembered the small greenhouse she loved to work in, how she would name her saplings, talk to them, whisper that they’d grow strong one day.

That place had been her sanctuary. Her balance. Her peace. She remembered telling Hemant about it once — in the early days of their marriage, when they still shared dreams like secrets.

"I always wanted to make my own garden someday" 

She had said, resting her head on his shoulder. And he, smiling softly, had replied. 

"Then when we build our own house, I’ll make a space for you. A space just for your garden and your flowers"

The memory made her eyes sting. That dream had withered — burned away in the wildness of her desires, in the chaos she mistook for love. But now, holding the book, she felt something shift. That same dream began to breathe again. Maybe it wasn’t lost forever. Maybe it had just been waiting for her to quiet down enough to hear it again. In the following days, she threw herself into this new rhythm. After Karan left for college, she’d read for hours — about ferns, mosses, seasonal growth patterns, the art of tending orchids. She began sketching small plant designs in her notebook, even planning out an imaginary garden layout.


She started watering the small plants in her balcony again — something she hadn’t done in months. The simple act of caring for something alive soothed her in ways she hadn’t expected. Ragini noticed the change when she visited. 

"You look… calmer" 

She said, setting down her purse. Sonarika smiled faintly, fingers tracing the edge of her book. 

"I’m learning to be myself again"

But even as her peace grew, she kept her distance from Hemant. Every time she saw him — sitting at the dining table, scrolling on his phone, or leaving for work — her heart ached. She wanted to tell him everything, to beg forgiveness, to show him the woman she was trying to become. But she knew it would only reopen wounds. He had every right to hate her. So she stayed silent. Respectful. Distant. She poured her love into Karan, into her books, into her healing. It was better this way. Safer.

Around the third week, she began to think practically again. The idea of leaving Mumbai still lingered. One evening, after her session with Neha, she opened her laptop and sent a few discreet messages to her TANISHQ  HR executives, asking about transfer options to Pune or Bangalore. They replied politely, promising to get back to her — and asking, gently, why she wanted to move. She didn’t answer. How could she? Some truths couldn’t be typed into an email.

Her days continued, slow and steady. Morning yoga. Reading. Journaling. Therapy. Sometimes she still woke with the ache of loneliness, sometimes the cravings returned like a whisper from the dark corners of her mind — but now, she didn’t act on them. She read. She breathed. She resisted.

Each small act of defiance felt like reclaiming a piece of herself.

One evening, she sat by her balcony, the city lights flickering below. Karan was asleep, Anjali was watching TV inside, and she was lost in her thoughts. On the small table beside her lay a few potted plants — freshly watered, their leaves glistening.

She smiled faintly. 

"You’re all I have right now" she whispered to them, brushing her fingers over the soil. 

"But maybe that’s enough"

The night air was cool, and for the first time in years, she felt something gentle — not passion, not pain — just peace. The first fragile sprout of a woman trying to grow again.


The following weeks unfolded with a calm rhythm Sonarika had never known before. Her mornings began with yoga and meditation; then she’d water her small balcony plants — her little green world — before preparing breakfast for Karan and Anjali. The soft rustle of leaves, the smell of wet soil, and the sunlight warming her skin grounded her. When she left for work, there was a steadiness in her steps — not the guilt-ridden hesitation of before. She arrived early, finished her tasks on time, even managed to help new interns at the Tanishq office without losing patience. Her colleagues noticed the change — a quiet discipline, a warmer tone, a faint but visible glow returning to her eyes.


Her evenings were reserved for reading. Books on botany and ecology filled her desk. Sometimes Karan would crawl beside her, drawing little plants in her notebook as she smiled and explained to him the difference between herbs and shrubs. Those moments became her small paradise — brief but pure. Even Hemant noticed the change — and it didn’t sit easily with him. At first, he thought it was an act. A way to show off her supposed 'healing' to earn sympathy or make him feel guilty. When she laughed softly with Karan, his heart twisted — not in love, but confusion and anger. How could she act so peaceful after everything she’d done How could she seem… okay? He avoided her even more, locking himself behind the invisible walls he’d built.

One night, he snapped when she greeted him at the door.

"Why are you pretending?" he asked coldly.She froze. 

"Pretending?"

"You think being cheerful will erase what you did? That acting normal will make me forget?" 

His voice was harsh but tired. Sonarika didn’t respond. She simply lowered her gaze and said, 

"I’m not pretending, Hemant. I’m just… trying to live"

That answer disarmed him, but he said nothing more. He went inside, leaving her in the doorway, eyes glistening — not from pain this time, but quiet acceptance.

A few days later, Ragini called.

"Come by my place after work" she said on the phone. 

"There’s something I want to discuss"

That evening, Sonarika arrived at Ragini’s apartment. The sunset bled orange through the window as Ragini handed her a cup of green tea.

"You look different" Ragini said with a small smile. 

"Lighter"

Sonarika chuckled softly. 

"Maybe I finally found something that keeps me steady — my plants, my books. It’s strange how much peace soil can give you"

Ragini nodded thoughtfully, setting her cup down. 

"You mentioned your time at that nursery — what was it called? Vrindavan?"

"Yes" Sonarika said, her eyes softening. 

"It was my favorite place. I worked there in my teenage days before… everything happened. It was peaceful. I thought someday I’d have my own garden, maybe teach people about plants"

There was something so pure in the way she said it — the kind of innocence that hadn’t been in her voice for years. That’s when something clicked in Ragini’s mind.

"Wait" Ragini said suddenly, leaning forward. 

"There’s something you might like"

Sonarika looked up curiously.


"In Goa — North of Vagator — there’s a private establishment called VATIKA Botanical Research and Development Center. It’s massive, like a glass-domed paradise. They produce high-quality vegetation, herbs, and extracts used for packaged food and medicine. It’s owned by a woman named Mrs. Sreelekha Naik — a remarkable person, a woman I look upto. Built the entire operation from scratch. I’ve met her twice during a business conference. She’s in her fifties, extremely sharp, very compassionate — and she’s currently looking for an Operations Manager for the center"

"An Operations Manager?" Sonarika repeated, surprised. Ragini nodded. 

"Yes. You’ve managed the corporate office of Tanishq — that experience counts. Plus, your knowledge of plants gives you an edge. I think you’d be perfect for it"

Sonarika blinked, stunned. 

"Goa sounds like another world, Ragini. I… I don’t know if I can do something like that. It’s not just a job change, it’s… everything"

"I know" Ragini said softly. 

"But maybe that’s the point. Maybe this is the kind of change you need"

There was silence for a while. The air between them was heavy but calm — the kind of quiet that carried meaning.

"I’ll think about it" Sonarika finally said.

"Good" Ragini replied, touching her hand gently. 

"You don’t need to decide tonight. Just… look into it. See what kind of place it is. You might be surprised"

That night, back in her apartment, Sonarika couldn’t sleep. The name Vatika echoed in her head like a whisper. After Karan and Anjali were asleep, she opened her laptop and searched:

'VATIKA Botanical Research and Development Center, North Vagator'

Dozens of images filled her screen — sprawling green domes, glass tunnels, lush gardens that looked like living cathedrals. Scientists and gardeners worked side by side in harmony. There were bioluminescent plants, hybrid crops, and even rare orchids cultivated in climate-controlled chambers. Her breath caught. It was everything she’d dreamed of — and more. She clicked through articles — one about Mrs. Sreelekha Naik, describing her journey from a small-town horticulturist to the head of one of India’s most advanced botanical facilities. Another article mentioned the Center’s initiatives in sustainable agriculture and eco-therapy programs for trauma survivors. Something deep within Sonarika stirred — not desire, not regret, but calling.

She leaned back, eyes glistening at the soft light of her laptop screen. Could this be it? The new beginning she’d been unknowingly preparing herself for?

She placed her palm over her heart, whispering quietly to herself —

"Maybe this is where I start again"

                                                                                                                                                                                                   (CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                                        (CHAPTER CONTD)

The following week, Ragini called Sonarika with a voice full of urgency.


"She’s here" Ragini said.

"Who?"

"Mrs. Sreelekha Naik. She’s in Mumbai for a short visit — attending a trade and environmental summit. I managed to get a small meeting slot for you tomorrow afternoon. Don’t waste this chance, Sona. She’s… not easy to impress"

That night, Sonarika barely slept. She stood before her wardrobe, flipping through her formal suits, finally choosing a simple beige one — clean, unpretentious, professional. She ironed it herself, the smell of hot fabric mixing with her nervous excitement. For the first time in years, she wasn’t dressing to impress a man or please anyone’s eye — she was dressing for herself. The next day, she met Ragini at the Hotel Orchid, where Mrs. Naik had set up a temporary office suite. Inside the room, Sreelekha Naik looked every bit the formidable woman she had read about — tall, dusky, elegant in a dark green silk saree. Her silver-streaked hair was tied in a low bun, and her sharp eyes missed nothing.

"Mrs. Naik" Ragini began politely, 

"This is Sonarika Kumar, who currently works as Chief Operations Manager for TANISHQ. The one I mentioned—"

"I know who she is" 

Sreelekha interrupted curtly, flipping through Sonarika’s file. 

"A C.O.M who handles Gold businesses applying for a role at a botanical research facility? That’s… bold"

Sonarika swallowed. 

"I understand the difference in industries, ma’am. But I also—"

"You think managing sales and profits is the same as managing research and growth environments?" 

Sreelekha cut her again. 

"You’ll be handling scientists, bioengineers, logistics, field research teams — not gold merchants and diamond cutters"

Ragini opened her mouth, but Sonarika gestured her not to.

"I know that, ma’am" she said quietly. 

"But I also know what it means to handle people — to understand processes, to manage under pressure. And more than that, I understand plants"

Sreelekha raised an eyebrow. 

"Do you?"

"Yes" Sonarika said, her voice steady now. 

"I spent three years at Vrindavan Nursery before I started my corporate life. I still remember the smell of the first monsoon soil there — the way each seedling bent to the rhythm of the rain. Plants have moods too, Mrs. Naik. They react to care, neglect, touch, even sound. They have their own system of communication — just like people. You don’t manage plants, you listen to them"

There was a pause. Sreelekha’s sharp gaze softened, just a little.

"That’s an interesting answer" she murmured. 

"Most candidates talk about production metrics and logistics. You talk like a botanist… or a poet"

"Maybe both" Sonarika said with a small smile. 

"I lost touch with that side of me. I’m trying to find it again"

Something in her tone — humble, truthful, without rehearsed charm — made Sreelekha close the file. She leaned back, studying her carefully.

"You’ve been through something, haven’t you?"

Sonarika didn’t flinch. 

"Yes, ma’am. And I’m not running from it anymore. I’m trying to rebuild myself — one honest day at a time"

For a long moment, silence filled the room. Then, for the first time, Sreelekha smiled.

"Good" she said simply. 

"I like people who don’t lie to themselves"

By the end of the meeting, Sreelekha told Ragini. 

"She’s raw, but she has grit. I’ll arrange for her to visit Vatika next week. Let her see if she can handle what we do before we talk about formalities"

Sonarika was stunned. 

"Thank you, ma’am. I promise I’ll—"

"Don’t promise" Sreelekha interrupted again, but this time with warmth. 

"Just show me"


That night at home, Sonarika gathered her family at the dinner table.

"I might have to go to Goa next week. It’s for work — just a short visit" She said softly

Karan’s face brightened instantly. 

"Goa? Can I come too, mumma? Please? I’ll behave!"

She smiled, brushing his hair. 

"It’s not a vacation, sweetheart. It’s an official visit. I have to meet some people, see some plants, and come back. I promise we’ll go together one day, okay?"

Karan sighed dramatically. 

"Okay…"

Then came Hemant’s voice, calm but cold. 

"Goa? With whom?"

"Alone" Sonarika replied, not looking up. 

"It’s related to a job opportunity. Ragini arranged the meeting"

The family cheered for her trip as she was in contempt seeing the happiness in Karan and Anjali's faces. But when she looked at Hemant , she knew he was thinking about something else. There was a slight sarcastic grin that only meant one thing. He was thinking her trip has something to do with Vikram. She turned, gathered the plates, and disappeared into the kitchen — silent tears mixing with the sound of running water.

Later that night, she laid out her luggage on the bed. She folded her clothes carefully — formal wear for the visit, casuals for the travel days.

That is when Hemant chimed in , beginning his mockery of her. 

"A job opportunity in Goa? How convenient. What’s next — a candlelight dinner with him on the beach?"

Hemant leaned back, his tone bitter. Sonarika froze.

"Vikram has nothing to do with this" she said, her voice trembling but controlled. 

"This is about my work"

Hemant gave a sarcastic laugh. 

"Work. Right. Do whatever you want, Sonarika. You’re free. Just…..make sure you take your pills unless you wanna get knocked up by him!"

His words cut deep — not because they were cruel, but because they carried pain. She wanted to scream, to defend herself, to tell him everything — the therapy, the diagnosis, the truth of her condition. But she didn’t. Instead, she looked at him quietly and said. 

"Believe whatever you like, Hemant. I know I’ve hurt you enough. I don’t want to fight anymore"

Hemant moved away and went to bed shutting off the lamp of his side. In the corner of her suitcase, she placed a soft blue scarf — a small token of comfort she always carried since her therapy began. Then, neatly folded on top, she placed the beige suit she intends to wear for her VATIKA visit.

The fabric smelled faintly of determination. Standing before her mirror, she whispered softly to her reflection —

"This time, I’m going not to escape, but to begin again"



The next morning, the dawn in Mumbai broke pale and cold. Sonarika stood by the doorway with her luggage packed — a single suitcase, one handbag, and her file folder. Hemant, leaning against the car parked outside, looked distant, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses. The drive to the airport was silent. The radio played softly, a low hum of some romantic ghazal that neither of them cared to change. Finally, as they reached the drop-off area, Hemant broke the silence.

"So" he said flatly. 

"Where’s Vikram? I thought he’d be coming to join you for this trip"

Sonarika turned her head slowly. 

"Hemant, please. This is not a leisure trip"

"So you admit the trips with him are leisure trips!"

"Enough , I am going to Goa for official work"

He gave a dry, sarcastic laugh. 

"Oh, of course. You’re going to Goa for official work. Right. With the same passion you used to go to Jabalpur and Bali, I suppose?"

She tightened her grip on her handbag, the knuckles whitening. 

"You can think whatever you want. I’m not explaining anymore"

He looked at her then, really looked — his jaw tight, his voice bitter but low.

"Well" he said. 

"Enjoy your… unofficial honeymoon. Hope you took my advice and took your pills. Because I don't want an Alimony situation in the future!"

The words landed like a slap. Sonarika stood still, blinking back the sting in her eyes. For a second, she wanted to shout — to remind him how much pain she had inflicted upon herself too, how broken she’d been. But instead, she just nodded quietly.

"I know you’re angry" she whispered. 

"And you have every right to be. Just… don’t say things you’ll regret later"

Hemant looked away, hands deep in his pockets.

"I stopped regretting things a long time ago" he said, turning toward the car.

She watched him leave, the taillights vanishing into the crowd of taxis and travelers. Then, pulling herself together, Sonarika walked into the terminal. Her heels echoed softly across the floor as the announcement board blinked with her flight number — Mumbai to Goa.

                                                                                                                                                                                     (CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                                  (CHAPTER CONTD)

Hours later, the plane descended into Dabolim Airport, the morning sun spilling across the Goan coastline. The sight of the lush green fields and palm groves below stirred something nostalgic in her — something bittersweet.


At the arrival gate, a man in a neat uniform held a placard reading 'SONARIKA KUMAR – VATIKA BOTANICAL R&D CENTER', the VATIKA emblem shining beneath her name.

"Welcome, ma’am" The driver said politely. 

"Mrs. Naik has arranged your pickup. It’s about an hour’s drive north, near Vagator"

The vehicle glided through the Goan countryside — narrow roads flanked by endless greenery and sunlight filtering through canopies of banyan and palm. The air smelled of wet earth and salt. As the journey went on, her mind wandered — to her first trip here years ago, as a newlywed. She remembered the freedom, the laughter, and the raw energy between her and Hemant. How they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, lost in the intoxication of love. Their first outdoor passion, their whispered promises.


She remembers that day , when they became a bit adventurous. When they ended up in that lush green space which was abandoned and had the view of the Goan Horizon. They have put up a picnic sheet and was laying there enjoying the sun. But then one then led to another , and then their clothes were abandoned. And Sonarika was riding her man's dick right there in the open.


Her grip grew ever tighter with each powerful thrust, as Hemant drove his hips with relentless force. He continued to hammer away at her neatly trimmed young pussy, the place that was yet to concieve Karan, but in that moment and time it belonged to them and their expressive love, as Hemant slightly shifted his angle, driving deeper, harder, pushing Sonarika further.

"AHHH! MY Hemant!!!" she gasped.

Sonarika continued to ride Hemant, for everything she was worth, each time her body rose, he slammed her back down on his cock, as it pumped in and out of her. The soothing sound of the sea and the birds chirping was also overlapped with the wet sounds of their fucking. His cock, was slick and glistening, as he rammed his shaft into her love mound.

Her breath hitched, and she pressed her forehead to his, eyes squeezed shut. 

"Harder Hubby!!!!" she demanded, her voice a low growl. 

"I don't want to be able to walk tomorrow!!!!!"

Hemant complied, and changed positions. He planted her to a nearby try pumping her into the tree making it feel the tremors of their sex. His hips moved faster, each thrust more powerful than the last. The tree behind her shook with the force of their movements, her body pinned between it and him. In a way really showing what she always wanted in life now enveloping her. Her nails raked down his back, leaving stinging trails that only spurred Hemant on. She bit his lip, hard, drawing a wince from him. He retaliated by grabbing a handful of her hair, tugging her head back to expose her neck. Hemant kissed and bit the soft skin there, her moans growing louder, more insistent. Hemant set her down, spun her around, and bent her over one of its extended stem. She let out a surprised yelp, but pushed back against him, eager, willing.

Her hands reached out in front of her, grasping at the tree and its rough texture for leverage. He didn't give her a moment to adjust. Hemant gripped her hips, as he pulled her back onto him. The tree branches shook with each hard thrust, rusty leaves and dried fruits scattering to the ground. Sonarika's breath came in ragged gasps, her body arching to meet Hemant's.

"You like this Sona?" Hemant growled into her ear, his voice barely recognizable. 

"Like getting fucked like this?"

"Yes" Sonarika hissed, her head dropping low, hair spilling over her face. 

"Just like that."

Hemant could see Sonarika’s face in some moments, her eyes wild, lips parted in a silent scream. He reached up, grabbing a handful of her hair again, tugging her head back until she was looking up at him, his other hand grasping her hip with bruising force.

"Don't stop" she begged, her voice a raw whisper. 

"Please, don't stop"

Hemant didn't. He couldn't. Not even if he wanted to. He has found happiness after a long time. Her body was hot and tight around him, her hips slamming back against him with a force that matched his own thrusts.

Her moans grew louder, more desperate. Sonarika was tightening around him, her body trembling with anticipation. She was close, so close. Suddenly, Sonarika's body tensed, her back arching sharply as she let out a loud, desperate cry. Her inner muscles clamped down on her husband like a vice, pulsing and fluttering as she came hard, her orgasm crashing through her like a tidal wave.

But Hemant didn't stop. He couldn't. Not yet. He rode her through it. Something that clung to Sonarika until today. Sonarika could feel his own release coming, his body tensing with each thrust. 

"You want me to cum in you, Sona?" Hemant murmured. 

"You want to feel me let go inside you?"

She nodded vigorously.

"YES!! MY HEMANT!!! MAKE ME YOURS!!! MAKE ME YOUR WIFE!!!"

Hemant buried himself deep inside her and let go, his cock pulsing as he spilled into her, filling her completely.

"YESS HONEY!!! I FEEL YOU!!!! I AM YOURS!!! FOREVER YOURS!!!!"

That is when Sonarika woke up from her trance as she noticed her ride was still going through the views of Goa. She smiled faintly through the ache. Back then, she had mistaken passion for permanence. Now she saw the truth — that Hemant had given her more than moments of heat; he had once given her balance, an anchor she had foolishly broken.

After nearly an hour, the car turned into a long private road lined with thick hedges and tall fences. Ahead stood a large gate, guarded by a modern security outpost and a watchtower. The emblem of VATIKA gleamed on the iron gates — a leaf spiraling around a golden sun.

The driver presented his credentials. The gates opened with a mechanical hum.

As the car drove deeper inside, Sonarika’s breath caught. Acres upon acres of lush green stretched as far as she could see — fields of exotic vegetation, rows of medicinal herbs, massive irrigation lines glistening in the light. And beyond all that — a white dome, colossal and gleaming like a pearl against the horizon, with VATIKA emblazoned across it in towering green letters.

"This… this looks like a science fiction magnificience!" she whispered.

The car stopped before the dome’s main entrance — a futuristic complex of glass and metal, with scanning gates and biometric checkposts. Scientists and staff in green uniforms moved briskly about. Sonarika stepped out, adjusting her beige suit, clutching her file tightly. For a moment, the sheer magnitude of the place dwarfed her confidence.

Then Mrs. Naik appeared at the entrance — poised, calm, her expression unreadable.

"Welcome to Vatika" she said. 

"I hope you had a comfortable flight"

"Yes, ma’am" Sonarika replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

As they began the tour, moving through the corridors filled with hydroponic chambers, automated irrigation systems, and sealed biomes, Sonarika’s mind began to whirl. The environment was alien to her corporate world — high-tech, clinical, immense. Her confidence began to fray.

Sreelekha noticed the change instantly. 

"You seem quiet" she said without slowing her pace.

"I… I’m fine" Sonarika managed. But her hands trembled. Her breath grew shallow.

"Take a moment" Sreelekha said curtly, signaling toward a hallway. 

"There’s a washroom there"

Inside, Sonarika leaned against the marble sink, staring at her reflection. Her face looked pale, fragile, scared.

"Damn it, Sonarika" she hissed. 

"Get it together"

Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered. 

"You’re not weak… you’re not weak…"

That’s when a memory surfaced — Vikram’s voice, smooth and seductive, echoing in her mind:

"I’ll make you my queen, Sonarika. The queen of BajajCorp. My empire will bow to you"

For a moment, the old thrill of that promise shimmered… then died.

Another voice replaced it — Hemant’s, warm, grounded, and real:

"You’re already a queen in our home. But don’t be the kind that just sits on a throne looking pretty. Be the one who rules with me — who builds, protects, and leads"

The words hit her like light cutting through fog. Her trembling stopped. Her heartbeat steadied. She looked at her reflection again — the same woman, but no longer broken.

"A queen who rules" she murmured.

She straightened her shoulders, fixed her suit, wiped her tears, and walked out.When she rejoined Mrs. Naik, the older woman noticed the difference instantly. Sonarika’s eyes were sharp now, her posture firm, her voice calm as she began asking questions — about the irrigation ratios, the carbon-neutral energy sources, the hybrid species they were testing.

Sreelekha listened, hiding a faint smile. The timid girl from Mumbai had vanished; this woman stood like she belonged here. By the end of the tour, they stood before a vast window overlooking the domed greenhouse, the sunlight filtering through its glass panels like divine light.

"So" Sreelekha said, glancing sideways at her.

"Still overwhelmed?"

"No" Sonarika said, a soft smile forming. 

"Just realizing how big my responsibilities will be"

Sreelekha chuckled — a low, approving sound.

"Good. Then maybe you’re the kind of manager I’ve been looking for"


The following morning in Goa rose in a mist of gold and sea breeze. Sonarika stood by the glass window of her guest suite inside the VATIKA complex, watching the early workers tend to the open plantations beyond the dome. Rows of green stretched endlessly — pepper vines, medicinal shrubs, orchids, and rare hybrids shimmering with dew. It was nothing like the sterile offices she’d known. This place breathed.

After breakfast, a young assistant named Shaan guided her to the central dome.

"Mrs. Naik asked you to shadow a few of the heads today, ma’am" he said cheerfully. 

"You’ll see how the cycle of operations runs here"

And so began her long day — a journey that would change the rhythm of her life. In the Genetic Propagation Wing, she observed women in white coats tending to seedlings under calibrated UV lights. In another section, she saw enormous tanks where plants were grown in nutrient-rich water instead of soil. One of the researchers explained. 

"We’re developing algae-based oxygen recyclers for long-term sustainable environments. Every batch here supports forty-five rural labs across India"

Sonarika listened intently, taking notes, asking about cost structures, workforce coordination, and export logistics. Despite the heavy technical jargon, her management instincts sharpened with each passing hour. By afternoon, she was discussing cycle timetables and distribution logistics with the operations head, making quick mental calculations, adjusting timeframes, and even spotting potential efficiency flaws. Her old corporate mind — long buried under guilt and chaos — had reawakened. When Sreelekha Naik eventually joined her near one of the hydroponic aisles, she found Sonarika still deep in discussion with a group of scientists.

"Impressive" Naik said with a faint smile. 

"You’re learning faster than I expected"

"I’m only learning what’s worth learning" 

Sonarika replied, tucking her notepad under her arm. 

"And this place… it’s extraordinary. It feels alive"

Naik gestured toward the massive greenhouse. 

"That’s because everything here has a purpose — a reason for its existence. No one just survives at VATIKA. They grow"

By late afternoon, after nearly seven hours of walking, observing, and note-taking, Sonarika was led to a large corridor on the dome’s eastern side. It ended at a glass-paneled cabin overlooking the entire research dome — spacious, minimalist, with wooden floors and a panoramic view of the plantations below.

Sreelekha opened the door, motioning her in.

"This will be your cabin" she said. 

Sonarika stepped inside, quietly taking in the vastness of the room. The scent of sandalwood lingered in the air. A solid oak desk stood before the window, sleek and bare. On the wall hung a quote carved in brass:

'A gardener does not create life — she nurtures it until it finds its own light'

Sreelekha moved closer, her expression steady and serious.

"This seat will not give you much comfort. At VATIKA, comfort is scarce — responsibility is not"

She said, tapping the backrest of the leather chair. Sonarika smiled faintly, her voice calm and certain.

"That’s fine, Mrs. Naik. I’ve spent too long sitting comfortably, waiting for something to change. Maybe it’s time I earn my discomfort"

Sreelekha studied her for a long moment — the woman’s poise, the quiet strength in her eyes, the absence of arrogance but the presence of conviction. Then she nodded approvingly.

"You have something most people lose after their first failure" she said. 

"You still have drive. Purpose. And you’ve rediscovered it here. That’s rare"

Sonarika lowered her gaze slightly, humbled.

"I just want to be useful again" she said softly. 

"To feel that I can build something good… something real"

Naik smiled. 

"Then you already understand what VATIKA stands for"

They sat together by the window as the sun began to descend, painting the vast dome in amber and rose gold.

"I’ve arranged something for you" Naik continued. 

"There’s an old cottage house about half a kilometer from the main complex. We’re renovating it for staff quarters. It’s surrounded by a private garden and a small pond. It’ll be yours once the work is complete"

Sonarika’s eyes widened. 

"Mine?"

"Yes. Consider it your home. You’ll need peace after the kind of work we do here"

Sonarika felt her throat tighten — not with grief this time, but gratitude.

"Thank you, Mrs. Naik" she said quietly. 

"You have no idea how much this means to me"

Naik rose, extending her hand. 

"I do. Because I’ve been where you are. Broken, uncertain, but unwilling to stop. I built VATIKA from that same restlessness. So trust me when I say this — you’re the perfect choice for this place"

Sonarika stood, her eyes glistening with restrained emotion as she shook Naik’s hand.

"I won’t let you down" she said. 

"I’ll make sure VATIKA grows beyond what even you imagined"

Sreelekha’s smile turned into a look of quiet pride. 

"I like that answer. You can join after the summer vacations — as Operations Manager of VATIKA. By then, your cottage will be ready. Take this time to settle your commitments in Mumbai. The next time you return, it should be for good"

That evening, as the sun sank into the horizon and the plantations glowed under the fading light, a car waited at the dome’s entrance. Sreelekha personally walked Sonarika to it, her manner now warmer, almost maternal.

"You’ve done well today" she said. 

"I don’t say that often. Remember, Sonarika — a true gardener doesn’t fear the size of her field. She fears wasting its potential"

Sonarika smiled as she stepped into the car. 

"Then I’ll make sure every inch blooms"

The vehicle rolled away slowly, down the long private road lined with whispering leaves. She looked out at the vast green fields, the shimmering dome in the distance, and felt something awaken in her chest — something she hadn’t felt in years.

Not love.

Not passion.

But peace.

As the car disappeared down the Goan highway toward the airport, Sonarika whispered under her breath,

"This is my redemption.....not for anyone.....but myself"

                                                                                                                                                                                                                     (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                              (CHAPTER CONTD)

The Mumbai skyline shimmered in the distance as the cab dropped Sonarika off at her apartment. The orange glow of twilight burned faintly over the city, casting long, tired shadows on the glass towers. She carried her small suitcase, feeling the weight of the past few days pressing into her shoulders. Hemant stood near his vehicle at the parking, his arms crossed. His face looked carved from stone — unreadable, yet heavy with resentment. He didn’t move toward her, didn’t even offer to take her bag.


"Back already?" he asked dryly, as if she had returned from an errand, not a life-changing trip.

"Yes" she replied, keeping her tone calm. 

"Wasn't expecting you for a couple of days....did Vikram had any emergency?"

He gave a humorless smile. 

"Regardless , I hope he gave you a good time. Didn't he?"

She sighed, already exhausted from the conversation. 

"Hemant, please—"

He cut her off sharply. 

"Relax, Sonarika. You don't need to share. I've said it already , I have no interest in being a cuckold. You're free to fuck him anyway you want."

The venom was casual, quiet — the kind that didn’t need to shout. She looked at him, wanting to defend herself, but what was the point? Words were meaningless now.

When they reached the apartment, Karan came running to her.

"Mumma! You’re back!"

Sonarika dropped her bag and hugged him tightly. His small arms around her waist felt like the only thing pure left in her life.

"I missed you, baby" she whispered, burying her face in his hair.

Hemant stood behind them, watching. His face softened for a moment — then hardened again.
He smiled for Karan’s sake. 

"See, champ? Mumma came back with her fancy suitcase. Maybe she brought gifts?"

Sonarika forced a smile. 

"I did, sweetheart. They’re in my bag"

Anjali appeared from the hallway, folding laundry. 

"Finally home" she said cheerfully. 

"Karan’s been asking for you every night"

Hemant smirked. 

"Well, now he doesn’t have to. His mother’s back from her… official meetings"

"Bhaiya—" Anjali frowned.

"It’s fine" Sonarika interrupted quickly, keeping her tone neutral. 

"Your Bhaiya is actually more childish than his son!" Sonarika joked which made Hemant stop.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, she stood by the kitchen sink washing her cup. The light above flickered faintly. Hemant walked in, half-dressed in his nightshirt, leaning against the counter with that same look of quiet mockery.

"So" he began casually. 

"How was Goa?"

"It was… enlightening" she said.

"Enlightening?" he repeated, chuckling under his breath. 

"You always did find enlightenment in the strangest places — hotel rooms, beaches…"

"Stop it" she muttered, her voice trembling.

He ignored her. 

"Did Vikram made you do anal? I’m sure he must been a considerate lover in bed"

"Enough, Hemant!" she snapped, turning to face him.

He didn’t flinch. 

"What? I'm just wondering. You have that glow that you always have when you return from this 'Enlightening' trip. I've seen faces like this in the past remember? When you came from Jabalpur , from Bali. Only now I actually know the reason behind those smile"

Her lips quivered, but she refused to cry. 

"You’re right. I had a glow when I believed I was being sexually liberated. I don’t deny it. But now its........please… stop reminding me my failures every time I breathe"

He leaned closer, lowering his voice into a venomous whisper. 

"Then stop pretending like you’ve changed. I did the mistake of trusting and sharing my life with you. So drop this innocent damsel act , I can see through your bullshit!"

For a moment, silence filled the kitchen — thick, painful silence.

"You're wrong......this time you're wrong about me" she whispered.

"Is that so?" he said coldly, stepping back. 

"Then please , continue your drama. But I am not falling for your pretention ever again!"

He turned and walked away, leaving her frozen, trembling against the counter as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Days passed, and the strange new rhythm of their life settled in. Hemant played the perfect father in front of Karan and Anjali — cheerful, attentive, helpful with homework and dinners. But the moment they were alone, the mask slipped.

If she smiled, he sneered.

If she was quiet, he accused her of sulking.

If she spoke too kindly, he mocked her tone.

One morning, as she poured him tea before work, he said casually,

"Do me a favor, Sonarika — when you move to Goa, take that fake serenity with you. It’s exhausting watching you play saint"

She set his cup down quietly. 

"If it helps you hate me less, then fine"

He gave her a sharp smile. 

"Oh no, I don’t hate you. I admire you. Takes real talent to ruin a marriage and still look innocent doing it"

Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her bag. 

"I’ll be late for work"

“Of course. Have a date with your boyfriend today? Don't let me spoil it , Bye!" 

He said mockingly, waving his hand. But as she left the apartment and stepped into the morning light, something inside her held steady. The barbs hurt, yes — but they no longer defined her. She had weathered worse storms, and this one, too, would pass.

At work, she immersed herself in her duties. Evenings were spent nurturing her plants, losing herself in the rhythm of watering, pruning, and caring — the quiet, grounding ritual that reminded her she could still grow, even in poisoned soil. Hemant’s cruelty was the thorn she had earned. Her peace — her quiet defiance — was the bloom she was nurturing against all odds.

And every night, as she read her botany books under the soft yellow light, she whispered to herself,


"He will move on , once I am gone. I’ll rebuild myself anyway — root by root"


The humid summer air hung thick over Mumbai, the kind that left everything sticky with memory. Sonarika sat at the dining table sorting through Karan’s clothes for their summer vacation trip, her movements slow but deliberate. Across the room, Hemant sat on the sofa, typing something on his laptop, the soft clicking of the keys filling the quiet. Karan was already excited — bouncing around the room with Anjali, talking about their train ride to Delhi. The family’s plan was set: Sonarika, Karan, and Anjali would spend the summer at her parents’ house in Delhi, while Hemant stayed behind in Mumbai to complete some 'business matters'

It felt practical — almost normal — except nothing about their lives was normal anymore.

Late that evening, as she folded Karan’s T-shirts into a small suitcase, Hemant called from the living room. 

"Sonarika, can you come here for a moment?"

She wiped her hands on her dupatta and approached cautiously. On the table before him lay a few official-looking documents — sale deeds, registry papers, a property transfer form.

"I need your signature here" he said plainly, tapping the bottom of one page. 

"Witness column"

She blinked, confused. 

"What is this for?"

"The sale deed of this flat" he said, his tone casual. 

"It’s done. The papers will be filed next week"

Her heart gave a small jolt. 

"You really are selling this place?"

He nodded, flipping another page. 

"Yes. I already told you before — the renovation at Silver Beach Villa is finally done. The contractor sent me the final clearance. It’s ready to move in. With the cashout next week after this filing is done , the rest of the pending money will be paid and the Silver Beach Villa will belong to me. In short , an upgrade"

For a second, the words didn’t register. Silver Beach Villa. The reality of a dream they once shared when life was still kind — a silent gift of Hemant to his family , a life they dreamed together. When Hemant’s mind was filled with the hopes of a big house in the future and their nights weren’t hollow.

He caught her silence and gave a crooked smile. 

"Don’t look so shocked. I am just glad you're not going to be a part of it. Let this be the final nail in the coffin of this circus called our marriage"

She hesitated, then managed a small smile. 

"I am sure Karan and Anjali will love it"

He leaned back, his tone sharpening like a knife being turned. 

"Yes, they will. So try not to ruin the surprise when you talk to them at Delhi. You’ve ruined enough already"

The words hit her like cold metal — quiet but heavy. She froze for a moment, then nodded softly. 

"I won’t say anything"

"Good" he said, gathering the papers again. 

"Let me handle this part. You just… do what you do best. Stay out of the way"

She said nothing. She’d learned silence was her only armor. That night, as she sat on the balcony, the sound of the city humming below her, she thought about the villa — how they had once dreamed of it together, back when life was full of promises and not regrets. A big home with open spaces, she remembered saying once, so Karan can play, and she can plant her little garden in the back.

It had been their shared dream. Now, it was just his.

And somehow, she felt proud. Proud that he had built it — without her, despite her. That he had evolved from the uncertain man she once knew into someone commanding and sure. Maybe that’s what healing looked like for him — success instead of forgiveness. She would not take that away.

Over the following nights, the uneasy rhythm between them continued. Hemant would speak little at dinner, his eyes mostly on Karan, his words clipped when directed at her. But after the dishes were done and everyone had gone to bed, he’d linger — half-tipsy on his late-night drink, pacing the living room like a restless ghost.

One night, when she was working on her notes and research papers at her desk, he appeared behind her with a smirk.

"You know" he said softly. 

"Whatever Vikram did to you in Goa — it must’ve been magical. You walk around glowing now, like some reformed saint"

She didn’t look up from her papers. 

"You can think whatever you like, Hemant. I’m not bothered anymore"

He laughed under his breath. 

"Of course you’re not. You have a new millionaire man now. Congratulations"

She turned slightly, her tone steady. 

"I’m doing what I should’ve done long ago — fixing myself"

"Fixing yourself" he repeated mockingly. 

"Maybe someday you’ll fix what you broke in me too"

And with that, he turned away, leaving her staring at the half-finished notes under the soft glow of her lamp.She didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears had burned themselves out long ago. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                   (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                                 (CHAPTER CONTD)

AT MEGHNA'S  APARTMENT



Things were really steamy at Meghna's place as the living room was decorated with the discarded clothes of both Disha and Meghna. They were gone on a nightpub together yesterday night and ended up here to a night of passion and pleasure. And that wasn't going to stop in the morning as Meghna was fucking Disha with a dildo in her bed!


Meghna wasn't in the mood for subtlety or slow sensuous fucking. She pulled out and rammed Disha's pussy again and then again and again. The dildo flew in and out of Disha's pussy. She filled the room with screams and expletives. Her pussy was leaking like a broken pipe, so she clearly was enjoying herself.

As Meghna thrust her hips into Disha, she could feel the dildo in her own pussy start to move. With each new thrust, the harness shifted slightly and pumped the dildo into her. The ridges harness pressed down hard against her clit every time it collided with Disha's ass as well. Her pussy soon was aching, the small shifting of the dildo doing just enough to excite her. Disha's eyes were closed and her head was lying on the table. Her hands squeezed her breasts tightly as her body was caught up in the throes of pleasure. She rammed the dildo into her again and again. Each time became easier as Disha's pussy spread more and became wetter.

Meghna reached her hand down and felt Disha's engorged clit. Her finger started frantically encircling it, making Disha moan even louder.

"Oh my fuck, that feels so fucking good! Keep fucking me Meghna!" 

Disha cried out, adding some extra emphasis to her work. Meghna had no plans of stopping. The faster and harder she fucked Disha, the more the dildo in her own pussy fucked her. The slow burn had turned into a fire, one that she couldn't stop. Pussy juices dripped out of her hole and onto the harness.

Her hand flew over Disha's clit, pressing down on it as much as she could. She began grinding her hips to meet every thrust of the dildo, pushing it even deeper into her gaping chasm. With her free hand, Meghna grabbed Disha's thigh to give herself some support. She made one final push, trying to fuck Disha into oblivion. The dildo pistoned out of her pussy, filling her up with the entire inch each time. Both her hand and her hips were a complete blur as Meghna worked to get Disha off.

The orgasm hit Disha. Her cries seemed to be cut off as she lost the ability to speak. Her whole body shook, her toes curled, and her pussy exploded over the dildo. All of her body was being stimulated, and she let out an extremely loud scream. Disha went limp on the bed as the climax took over her.

Meghna wasn't done though. She hadn't reached her own climax yet. She kept relentlessly fucking Disha, wrecking her pussy. The harness ground down against her clit and she was trying to nearly hump it. Her moans joined Disha's, although not nearly as loud. She whimpered on the table as her pussy became excited again. Disha seemed a little reluctant almost, still perhaps exhausted from her climax. Disha couldn't maintain that reluctance though. The fake cock spread open her wet pussy and swallowed up the entire length with each thrust of her hips. Disha reached down and found her own clit.

"AHHHHHHH that feels so fucking good" Disha said through a moan.

Her fingers circled continuously around her clit. Meghna's climax was so close. She thrust harder into her, trying to fuck herself more as well. Within a minute, Disha was hit by another orgasm. She gave a loud cry out and her pussy squirted onto the plastic dildo. Meghna kept mercilessly fucking Disha, not letting her orgasm subside. She was right about to hit her own. She jackhammered the cock repeatedly into Disha, letting it smack against her bouncy ass. Disha kept moaning.

"Oh, fuck, Meghna! You're gonna make me fucking cum again! Oh shit!"

Her pussy was extremely sensitive, and each climax was getting easier and easier to draw from her. The dildo rammed into her as her fingers continued to fly over her clit. Disha started shaking once more. Meghna bucked her hips into Disha, burying the cock as deep within her as she could. She kept it there, completely filling up her pussy, and bounced her hips up and down. The dildo slid back and forth in her pussy with her clit pressed down hard against the harness. She rode the dildo, feeling all the ridges rub against the tight wall of her pussy. Her moans quickly reached a peak.

And finally, she felt it arrive. She bit her lower lip in a fruitless effort to prevent herself from crying out as waves of pleasure swept through her body. Her legs nearly buckled, but she held herself up and rode out the orgasm. Disha climaxed at the same time that Meghna did. She ground her hips down onto the huge dildo buried inside of her, and rubbed her clit until they were howling in unison. Juice had begun to seep out of her sealed hole and down her butt to the bed below.

Disha lay on the bed in a heap riding out her fourth climax. Her big tits rose and fell while she kept a hand lightly pinching on a nipple. Once they recovered from their highs. Both got tangled in the sheets and took a short nap.

Some time later. The morning sunlight slipped lazily through the curtains, painting the rumpled sheets in gold. Meghna leaned against the headboard, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her coffee mug as Disha sprawled beside her, one leg tangled in the blanket. The faint hum of the city below mixed with their soft laughter — the kind that lingers when words aren’t really needed. Their eyes met often, smiling for no reason, both still wrapped in the warmth of the night that hadn’t quite ended.

Disha stretched, stealing a sip from Meghna’s cup, and teased, 

"Still think the pub was worth the cab fare?" 

Meghna chuckled, her gaze drifting over the tousled strands falling across Disha’s face. 

"The pub? Absolutely not. But the after-party?" 

Her voice softened, playful and tender all at once. The air between them was easy, familiar — as though they’d done this a hundred times before, last night been the one in many. When Disha finally rose to dress, the room felt suddenly larger, quieter. Meghna watched her from the bed, her heart beating with that peculiar calm that follows closeness — contentment with a trace of longing. At the door, Disha turned, leaned in, and pressed a slow kiss to Meghna’s lips, tasting of coffee and morning light. 

"Next weekend?" she whispered. 

Meghna smiled, brushing her thumb over Disha’s wrist. 

"Next weekend" 

And as the door clicked shut, the scent of her perfume lingered — a promise that this was only the beginning.


The sunlight streaming through the half-drawn curtains bathed Meghna’s living room in a warm amber hue. She was still lost in the tender afterglow of the night before and the morning after — Disha’s scent lingered on her skin, and her thoughts danced with stolen memories — when the sharp chime of the doorbell startled her. Wrapping her robe around her, she opened the door and froze. Sonarika stood there, serene and smiling, a soft breeze fluttering her hair. That calm, angelic smile — Meghna had always despised it. It masked too much grace, too much self-control. Meghna wanted to see that face crack, to see pain flicker where serenity lived. But not today, not yet.


Sonarika stepped in with quiet confidence, her eyes scanning the room like someone reacquainting herself with a memory she was ready to leave behind. 

"You look relaxed" 

She said gently, sitting down on the couch without waiting for an invitation. 

"Day off?" 

Meghna forced a smirk, feigning ease. 

"Yeah, I’m working on a feature story for MIRROR News. Needed a breather before I get back to it" 

Her tone was light, her posture calculatedly casual. But beneath that smooth surface, her heart was pulsing fast. She didn’t like unplanned visits, especially from Sonarika — not after all the strings she had been pulling behind her back. There was small talk — too much of it for Meghna’s liking. About the weather, about the café that just opened near Carter Road, about Disha’s recent visits and her relationship with Meghna. Meghna responded with mechanical interest, waiting for the real reason. When Sonarika finally exhaled and leaned back, her smile widened slightly — not with warmth, but finality. 

"I went to Goa last week" she began. Meghna tilted her head, curious. 

"Goa? For what?" 

"A job interview" Sonarika said. 

"VATIKA Botanical Research and Development Center. North Vagator. They offered me the Regional Manager position — comes with a cottage too" 

She paused, as if letting the words sink in. 

"I’ll be joining once summer vacation ends"

The room seemed to tighten around Meghna. She sat up straight, eyes darting, her pulse thudding in her throat. 

"You’re… moving?" she asked, her voice barely masking the edge. 

"Yes" Sonarika replied calmly, her fingers brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. 

"It’s time for something new" 

Meghna’s lips trembled into a forced laugh. This couldn’t be happening. Months of scheming — devious plans, poisoned relationships, planted doubts , even physical hurt — all to keep Sonarika in her orbit, under her quiet manipulation. Goa meant distance. Goa meant freedom. Goa meant losing control. Meghna tried to recover her composure, her tone laced with mock concern. 

"You’re running again, Sonarika. For what? To keep that loser of a husband happy?" 

The words dripped with venom and disgust. 

"Hemant was a terrible husband, he never was the right man for you. And now that you’ve finally found happiness in Vikram’s arms, you’re throwing it away?" 

Sonarika looked at her, eyes unflinching, the softness in them replaced by clarity — and something sharper. 

"We both know that’s not true, Meghna. Whatever I thought it was… it wasn’t love. It was a mistake. A betrayal,  cheating,  no matter how prettily you dress it, remains what it is"

The silence that followed was suffocating. Meghna’s eyes flickered, calculating, furious. 

"Who told you to take this job?" she demanded. 

"Whose bright idea was this?" 

Sonarika’s lips curved slightly. 

"Ragini. She helped me see things more clearly" 

That name — Ragini — hit like a slap. Meghna’s fingers clenched into fists beneath the table. Ragini had been a growing nuisance, a meddler in her carefully crafted web. Meghna had plans for her too — slow, precise, humiliating plans. But now, it might be too late.

"I’ll spend the summer months in Delhi with my family" 

Sonarika continued, standing up, her calm presence filling the space with quiet defiance. 

"Then I’ll move to Goa. We’ll keep in touch, of course — calls, messages, maybe even visits" 

She smiled politely, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes anymore. Meghna managed a brittle nod, lips twitching between rage and panic. 

"Of course" she said. 

"We’ll stay in touch" Her words were an echo, hollow and desperate.

When the door finally closed behind Sonarika, Meghna’s mask shattered. She screamed — a guttural sound of frustration and loss — and flung a vase across the room, shattering it into glittering shards. The air smelled of rage and perfume. Outside, Sonarika sat behind the wheel of her car, her hands steady. For the first time in years, she felt a strange, liberating peace. And at the same time , mystery and doubts clouded her mind. Meghna was present in her life ever since that accident , and now she has an inner feeling that all this time , she was there holding her in a leash. But now there was no leash.


The chains of Meghna’s influence were breaking — and Sonarika, at last, was free.

                                                                                                                                                                                                          (CHAPTER TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                                                                           (CHAPTER CONTD)

THAT EVENING AT GALAXY APARTMENTS


Vikram’s heartbeat quickened the moment the doorbell rang. He opened the door with a rush of excitement, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Sonarika. She stood there, radiant yet distant, her vibrant smile flickering like a memory of what once was. For a second, Vikram forgot everything — her marriage, their arguments, the distance — and saw only the woman who had once set his soul ablaze. But as she stepped inside, her eyes lingered not on him, but on the wall behind him — a mosaic of framed photos capturing a year of reckless passion, stolen nights, and unguarded moments. Sonarika’s smile faded; those images no longer mirrored who she was.

She walked toward the couch, her steps measured, controlled. Vikram followed, sensing a subtle chill in her demeanor. 

"You’ve changed your hair" he said lightly, trying to bridge the silence. 

Sonarika sat down, folded her hands, and replied quietly 

"Vikram, we need to talk" 

The name — Vikram — struck him like a cold wind. She had never called him that before, not in private, not even in anger, for her he was always Vicky. He stared at her, confused and faintly unsettled, watching her eyes, so calm, so painfully resolved.

"I went to Goa last week" she began, her voice steady, almost formal. 

"There’s a new opportunity at VATIKA Botany’s R&D Center — regional manager position. I accepted it" 

Vikram blinked. 

"You’re moving to Goa? When?" 

"In two months....after summer vacations" she said simply. He laughed softly, nervously. 

"So that’s why you wanted to meet? To tell me you’re running away?" 

But she shook her head. 

"No, Vikram. I’m not running. I’m… healing" 

Her eyes softened, but her words cut deep. 

"I was diagnosed with a disorder. A very active Hypersexuality. My therapist traced it back to a head injury I had as a teenager. It… altered things in me. I didn’t know. I thought I was just passionate, full of life. But I was sick, Vikram. My desires weren’t love — they were symptoms"

Vikram’s brow furrowed. 

"Sick? Sonarika, don’t do this to yourself. What we had — what we still have — it wasn’t some… disorder. It was real" 

She shook her head gently. 

"No, Vikram. It might've felt real, I know. But it wasn’t me. It was the part of me that was broken, that kept feeding on touch, on pleasure, on escape. You gave that sickness everything it wanted, and I mistook that for affection" 

Her words trembled for a moment before regaining strength. 

"I was drowning, and I thought you were my air. But you were just another wave. Just like Rocky"

He stood abruptly, walking to the wall, pointing at the photos. 

"Look at these! You can’t tell me this was an illness. Look at your face, look at mine. That’s not pain — that’s love!" 

Sonarika rose too, walking to the wall beside him. For a long moment, she stared at the smiling, half-clothed reflections of herself — wild, breathless, lost. 

"No" she whispered. 

"I don’t see love anymore. I see a woman who was making wrong decisions one after another unaware of her own sickness. Every frame…. she’s trying to feel alive through something that was killing her spirit. That’s not who I am now"

Turning back to him, she took a slow breath. 

"You’re a good man, Vikram. You deserve someone who can love you completely — not someone who mistook you for her own unknown cravings. I can’t be that woman anymore. I’m not sick anymore" 

Her eyes shimmered, but her lips didn’t quiver. 

"For the first time in years, I feel… quiet inside. Free" 

Vikram’s voice cracked. 

"So that’s it? You just… end it like this? After everything?" 

She nodded softly. 

"Yes. Because I finally understand what love is — and this wasn’t it. Like I said before , we were both villains in Hemant's story. And now we don't have to live with that identity anymore. We can truly move on , find relief from this choices of errors."

She reached into her purse and pulled out the delicate bracelet — two small silver birds intertwined mid-flight. 

"You gave me this when you said we’d always fly together" she said, placing it in his palm. 

"But I think… I'll stay on the ground for now" 

His fingers clenched around it, his face folding in disbelief and grief. 

"Soni, please—" he whispered, but she had already turned toward the door.

At the threshold, she looked back once more — not with regret, but with gratitude. 

"Don't make this hard on yourself. Try to understand the mistakes we did and turn it into life lessons. I wish you love, real love, the kind that heals, not consumes.You will find the right person in your life Vikram. Unfortunately , its not me , it can never be me!" 

As she stepped out of Galaxy Apartments, the night air felt lighter, almost kind. The weight she had carried — of guilt, of craving, of confusion — lifted. For the first time, Sonarika didn’t feel broken. She felt whole. As Sonarika walked away , Vikram was completely stunned. His eyes were wet with tears as he sat on the living room looking up at the photos. Even though he saw her reasoning , he could not simply move on from her. She was imprinted in his heart now. He whispered in his mind.

"I am not giving up on us Soni. Not now , not ever!"


THE NEXT DAY


The mid-morning sun hung over the red domes of the Devi temple, its light glinting off the brass bells that swayed gently in the monsoon wind. Sonarika climbed the ancient stone steps beside her sister Anjali, each footstep echoing through the quiet courtyard. The smell of incense, sandalwood, and marigolds filled the air. This was the same temple that had once blessed Hemant with strength — the same sacred ground where Anjali had brought the Garuda ring that changed his destiny. But today, Sonarika wasn’t walking in prayer. She was walking through ashes. When she reached the sanctum, her body shivered. It wasn’t the wind — it was something else. A surge of energy ran through her veins, like the temple itself was humming with life, recognizing the storm inside her. The Devi idol glowed in a subtle flicker of gold as if watching her, measuring her. Sonarika closed her eyes, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to fall, but her heart was too heavy for restraint.


The Poojari, an elderly man with eyes deep as time itself, approached her with a knowing smile.

"Ah, the one who got corrupted returns to seek redemption" he said softly.

Sonarika folded her hands, forcing a smile. 

"I came to thank you, Swami… for the Garuda ring you gave Anjali. It changed Hemant’s life. Built his empire. His success began here.”

The poojari’s smile faded into a knowing calm. 

"Beti, you did not come here for his blessings. You came for your own redemption. The gods send no one to the temple without reason"

Her composure cracked. 

"I’ve wrecked everything, Swami. My marriage… my peace. And now—" her voice trembled. 

"The one I trusted most have now revealed to be my biggest nemesis. My best friend… she’s hurting me in ways I can’t even understand. I thought she was my sister in spirit. But now I see… I was her enemy all along for unknown reasons"

The poojari’s eyes gleamed with something between compassion and ancient fire. 

"Sometimes, daughter, revenge is not born in the moment—it ripens through lifetimes. Revenge can be as old as the soul itself. Perhaps you are not the source of this flame of vengeance"

He walked to the sanctum, retrieved a small red thread tied around a locket engraved with Goddess Durga, and held it out with both hands. 

"You have come to the right place, Sonarika. The Devi does not call those who seek comfort—she calls those chosen for war. Your perspective and resolve has been remoulded. Now your spirit must be forged"

Sonarika’s trembling fingers accepted the sacred thread. 

"And this will protect me?"

"It will guide you" the poojari said, his voice suddenly deeper, echoing off the temple walls. 

"Durga’s eyes will show you truth when lies surround you. Her fire will feed your will when hope abandons you. Your fury and your pain—those are not curses anymore. They are your weapons. Use them. Because now… you have nothing left to lose. That is when a woman becomes unstoppable"


The temple bells rang violently as she tied the thread around her neck. A sudden gust of wind swept through the sanctum, scattering petals, and Sonarika felt her body surge with raw strength. Her tears dried. Her heartbeat steadied. For the first time in months, she felt alive — fierce, untamed, reborn. The young girl who was once the student union leader in her college before the accident. The fierce side of her from her past merged with the new awakened one. The goddess within her had awoken. She rose, touched the poojari’s feet, and whispered. 

"I understand now. My redemption begins where my fear ends"

"Go" the poojari said, blessing her forehead. 

"Fight your battles with grace and elegence , you shall overcome your troubled times and finally will achieve peace. May Durga give you the strength to emerge victorious"

As Sonarika turned and walked away beside Anjali, her eyes blazed with new purpose. The woman who had entered broken was gone. What walked out was something elemental — a cosmic presence in human form, silent yet dangerous, ready to face whatever darkness awaited her. The poojari watched her silhouette fade down the temple steps, the wind tugging at his saffron robes. The divine calm on his face softened into sorrow. Under his breath, he murmured,


"I hope you find your peace Beti Sonarika........before your time in this mortal world ends!!!!"

And in the heart of the sanctum, the idol of Durga shimmered faintly. 

Proclaiming her battles have just begun , and her salvation will come.
 

                                                                                                                                                                             END OF CHAPTER 25

[EPLOVER4U]

harry my bro you are just too good to be true, i am liking this story more chapter by chapters. can't write lengthy reply on what was i like and what would be better if this and that...... hahahah years end you know the rest.

but not the least the way you developed the sona and hemant man it just too good, the insecure hemant made me laugh just take this   clp); clp); clp); clp); clp); clp); yr): yr): yr): yr):

[DeanWinchester00007]

Short Comment :-


This is it , This is what I was talking about . Harry , You Pulled this off , So beautifully . I just don't have any words to describe this update , This is so good . 

So this is what you have been cooking , You tortured us , but Man  this update came like Balm on wound . So satisfying . Entire update on SONA . Such a lengthy update but did not feel like it was lengthy . I NEED MORE OF SONA and Her silent healing journey . 

This is like an ASMR Episode of LOVE SEX AND WAR 

Loved the Childish nature of Our MICHAEL KING. I love how SONA's peace disturbs him , I wish Sona should have notice this  , I was hoping Sona should have casually teased him , and telling him She still loves him no matter what , then Hemant cringe reaction on this . Hahahhahahah 

10/10 Update . One of the Best . 

I love it . 

I know many people will hate this update, If they do FUCK THEM  . lol . But I love this Update . 

This update brought me some calm    . 

Harry 

Thanks Man . Such a Wonderful Update . 

10/10  yr):

[DeanWinchester00007]

but not the least the way you developed the sona and hemant man it just too good, the insecure hemant made me laugh 

Yes , Loved his Childish nature here . One of the best of part of this Update .

[Harry Jordan]

harry my bro you are just too good to be true, i am liking this story more chapter by chapters. can't write lengthy reply on what was i like and what would be better if this and that...... hahahah years end you know the rest.

but not the least the way you developed the sona and hemant man it just too good, the insecure hemant made me laugh just take this   clp); clp); clp); clp); clp); clp); yr): yr): yr): yr):

Short Comment :-


I love how SONA's peace disturbs him , I wish Sona should have notice this  , I was hoping Sona should have casually teased him , and telling him She still loves him no matter what , then Hemant cringe reaction on this . Hahahhahahah 

I am glad you guys liked it , this was honestly a great fun writing this dynamic. The Salty Hemant is just his vulnerable self voicing his pain and insecurities and Sonarika is basically falling in love with him again , this time as her real self , as she sees he was the only true man that supported her and loved her unconnditionally , neither Rocky , nor Vikram.

In a way , this is a love story reforged between them to see each other in new light and truly understand each other. Hemant is angry and venting it out on her with snarky remarks but he wishes she could give him importance as she gives to Vikram. But little does he knows that Hemant is the only important man in her heart right now because she finally sees both sides of Hemant and accepts him as her true savior willingly and unwillingly. Coming in the right time in her life and giving her the distraction she needed from her condition. Now her arc will be more about revenge and finding balance and justice while fighting her inner turmoil and bringing more clarity and sanity in herself. But the ominous words of the Temple Swami teases a future that is uncertain!

[Munda007]

This is very nicely been taken forward. Good thing is that Sona is trying to find her path. Whichever way she takes I think she will get her peace

[RCF]

Excellent chapter filled with content that is extraordinarily woven with emotions and redemption. As I wished, Sonarika is carving out a path away from both men and seems to be the right direction.

Few thoughts
1. How did she know that Meghana is her enemy? Maybe for next chapter will enlighten us.

2. Hemanth with all his resources couldn't find out that Vik is still in the city and not with Sonarika? He suspects her anyways and taunting her, why can't he simply put Raquel or His followers for a day to check on Vik? Even if we think he is not interested in finding truth anymore, it would be reasonable to check it as he thinks she is faking it.

3. I am surprised Anjali is keeping her doubts to her self for so long despite noticing the growing distance between the couple?

4. When Sonarika originally planned her home away from Mumbai in Jabalpur with Vik, she saw Karan and couldn't do it and that is one of the reason, Doesn't that reason being pure in emotion stand true now as well? So how can she leave Karan and leave for Goa permanently?

5. Looks like Meghana and Vik will come together for their own selfish reasons to go against Sonarika, one to destroy her and other to claim her..Have to see how she handles both now.

6. Last sentence of Hemanth "Maybe someday you will fix what you broke in me too" - Looks like that's exactly what she will do...Interesting.

7. Hemanth still loves her to the moon, hence the insecurity that is masked under smirks and jabs.

8. I expected a conversation where she would tell him that she will move to Goa permanently or taking a job there, seems that conversation is missing because Hemanth comments that when she moves to Goa asks her to take her fake persona with her which got me confused.

Now that this episode is complete, give us the next over weekend or by next Wednesday :)

~RCF

[Harry Jordan]

Excellent chapter filled with content that is extraordinarily woven with emotions and redemption. As I wished, Sonarika is carving out a path away from both men and seems to be the right direction.

Now that this episode is complete, give us the next over weekend or by next Wednesday :)

~RCF

Glad you liked it , it was one of my favorite parts to write regarding Sonarika even though I've saved two important scenes for later chapter which will develop her further. Now to answer the thoughts.

1. Sonarika is starting to have that reasonable doubt now that her mind is clear , she is starting to notice Meghna's close presence around her ever since the accident. So she has some suspicion which is why she feels something sinister happening with Meghna. This is the first stage of awareness of her realizing Meghna is not her friend , never was.


2. Hemant's actions are purely on his insecurities and his somewhat 'pettiness'. Deep down , he still loves her and her choosing Vikram still hurts him. So he likes to taunt and belittle her to vent out his frustrations , but deep down , he is basically wishing she returns to him as he doesn't wanna loose anyone anymore. He has lost a lot in his life and he doesn't want the same fate for Sonarika.

3. Anjali has doubts , and she and Karan's involvement in the story is to be that non erasable bond between Hemant and Sonarika. They are the reminder to them that what they had was special. In a way its showing them that this family is worth fighting for.

4. Sonarika is moving to Goa to achieve her inner peace and some sort of sanity. She is still not moving away from Karan. But she kind of has that fear with Vikram as Vikram overwhelms her and she often forgets her family when she is in that trance. Now , she is free from that  , so even in a distance she will still have Karan and bond with him in a more mature and motherly way. So her equation with Karan will further heighten her healing process and evolve her.

5. This is the point in story where Vikram's love for her turns from affection to obsession. Now its his turn to go nuts , he simply cannot live without her , so now he will leave no stones unturned to claim her back. And Meghna will find the next person she can control to torment Sonarika's life. She won't have the influence on Sonarika like before but Vikram , she can gain his trust and manipulate him to torment her further. In a way , we will see some negative shades in Vikram in the future.

6. Maybe , maybe not. The couple might be healing , but their troubles aren't done. Hemant's rise to power is only going to bring new challenges that one day will overwhelm. But when it comes to Sonarika , it depends , she is changing , she is reverting to a phase that made her something before that accident , her true potential will be brought out. And when that happens , can she see Hemant as her life partner? She already relates to him now , and in many ways she now believes Hemant was indeed her true savior as he willingly and unwillingly helped her even in her dark times. This is the phase where Sonarika truly sees Hemant and the love between them gains a more genuine and deep meaning. But can Hemant reciprocate her love? only time will tell.

7. That is true , no matter how many pussy he enjoys , how many women he pleasures. She is the one that binds his body and soul , he loves her no matter what. His smirks and jabs just indirectly means he is confessing his love for her , and now Sonarika in a way understands that.

8.That is being saved for a later chapter. Not to forget , Sonarika has never seen Hemant's workplace or his empire , so I am saving that conversation for that moment where she finally sees his empire and how much different he is now. To see her once hardworking down to earth Hemant who was mellowed out was now running a business empire that is slowly becoming a global phenomena. Where she will start to see HEmant was always the right man for her life. To make her see the mistakes she did to understand what he has become in his own might. But the question is , can she get him back? or does fate has a grim future for her?

Only Time Will Tell 

[Dooom]

Wonderful, what a turn around the way of story telling is very alive hope to see more chapters

[Blackdick11]

Harry, the level of effort and the brilliance of your writing in this story are beyond words. no matter how much I praise it, it still wouldn’t do justice to the dedication you've shown.


In short, Meghna, Vikram, and MK/Hemant are shocked while Sonarika totally rocked!!!!

tbh... CHUTIYA CUT GAYA US MF MILLIONAIRE VIKRAM KA :) :) :)
The whole situation looked like it was working in his favor… but in the very next moment, sonarika flipped everything...like...EK PAL MAIN HALAAT BADAL DIYE... JAZBAAT BADAL DIYE!!! ;) ;) ;)

[Munda007]

Eagerly waiting for next Episodes.. when can expect next Episode?