Adultery The Husband’s Doubt [Completed]

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 9 – Years and Shadows


Pratap called the next morning, voice warm over the phone.

“Prem, heard the good news from the doctor. Nivi pregnant? Congratulations, da! You two deserve this happiness.”
Prem smiled, holding Nivi’s hand. “Thanks, sir. We’re overjoyed.”

Pratap chuckled. “Now, about the house — I can arrange a better place quickly. Low rent, safe area.”

Prem paused, resolve firming. “No, sir. I appreciate it, but… I’ll handle this. Lessons learned. No more depending on others. Whatever we need, I’ll get from my own pocket. It doesn’t mean I won’t accept help when it’s beyond me, but if it’s in my ability… I want to do it that way.”

Pratap was silent a moment, then nodded over the line. “Understanding you, da. Proud of you. Call if you need.”
Ever since the incident, Prem never let Nivi outside without him.

Overprotective? Yes.
But he couldn’t risk it.

He took care of her every step during the pregnancy — doctor visits, cooking simple meals, even helping with baths when she felt weak.

Nivi felt his love in every gesture, but at times, the constant watch felt like a cage.

“I can go to the market alone,” she’d say softly.

“No,” he’d reply, kissing her forehead. “Not safe.”

She dismissed it as love, buried the frustration.

Months passed.
Aara was born — healthy, crying girl with Nivi’s fair skin.

Pratap was the first visitor, beaming like a father.

He caressed Nivi’s hair gently. “You did great, ma.”

Prem felt the old unease — that odd nausea at the man touching his wife’s head.

He hated it, but smiled through.

Pratap was the only one he entertained.

Time blurred.

Prem shifted them to a ground floor individual villa — high rent, but bigger, safer. Garden for Aara to play, locked gates.
Pratap offered help. Prem refused politely.

“I’ll make it on my own.”

He bought a laptop on EMI, started part-time IT outsourcing work in the evenings.

His computer science engineering degree — shelved for love and necessity — finally paid off.

Small gigs at first. Then clients. Revenue grew.
Nivi was his remedy, his anchor — supportive, never complaining.

But at times, she felt the cage tighter.

Until Aara turned 5, she was not allowed outside alone.. It's not an order.. But she obeyed it. 

Years ran like water.

Nine years since marriage.

Prem had grown his side work into a small empire — contracts, a team, steady income.
The old car was upgraded. Planning to buy a house soon.

But first — his own company launch.

For her.

He knew Nivi’s buried dream — to be an entrepreneur, a boutique or software firm or even a salon. She was open to anything.

He thought starting his company would make her happy — inspire her, show it's possible.

Now, nine years later, he sat on the sofa, Prakash’s name irritating him as Pratap reminded it.

Coming back to the present day.

The morning had started with hope — the surprise company key for their ninth anniversary.

But ended with Aaravind’s face, Pratap’s console words misunderstood.

Now, Nivi missing. Aara at college.

The house empty.

Doubt creeping back.

Like always.

Yes he was overthinking.. 



Aravind was back in the game. Would he be a threat this time, or could Prem finally overcome the shadow of that scar? And why had Nivi taken so long to return? His mood soured further — only a few hours left until the anniversary function.

As he sat lost in overthinking, the front door opened.

Nivi walked in, carrying a gift-wrapped box and a colorful wrapper bag.
Prem was about to ask where she’d been, but the sight stopped him.
Not the tailor. A surprise anniversary gift for him.
The realization hit like cool water. His insecurities melted away, a genuine smile breaking through.
He could launch the company without Aaravind’s contract. No need to risk reminding her of that old trauma. He decided right then — he’d never tell her about the morning’s encounter.

As soon as Aara came home from college, they got ready and headed out to the car.

Prem noticed the front of Nivi’s scooty was scratched and dented.

“What happened here?”

Nivi hesitated, looking sheepish. “I… I don’t know exactly. I was looking at shops while driving, distracted. Hit a costly car. Panicked and just drove away.”
Prem shook his head slowly, half-amused, half-concerned. “Really, Nivi?”

They climbed into the car. While driving, he asked, “Did you see the car model or number plate?”

She thought for a moment. “White… luxury one. BMW or Jaguar, I think. Something written on the back, but I don’t remember.”
Prem shrugged. “Not important. Leave it.”

Nivi stared out the window, recalling the moment.

As she sped away after the bump, she remembered the driver shouting behind her:

“Rohan sir! That woman — she hit our car!”

She only caught the name — Rohan.

But she decided not to mention it.

They were heading to the anniversary function, after all.

[heygiwriter]

Excellent writing as always

Thanks a lot

[heygiwriter]

Brief Revisit: Chapters 1–9 of The Husband’s Doubt


Prem, now 30 and on the cusp of launching his own IT company, starts the 9th anniversary morning full of hope — a surprise office key for Nivi. But a suspicious phone call from her and a shocking reunion with Aaravind (the college rival who once tried to assault Nivi and still bears Prem's scar) reignite old insecurities. Prem rejects the deal, convinced Aaravind wants Nivi again, and seeks counsel from his old boss Pratap, whose ambiguous warning about men like Prakash plants new doubts.

Flashbacks reveal the couple’s origins: secret college love, brutal beating by Nivi’s father, Prem’s overthinking ruining his own father’s willingness to accept her, leading to theft, elopement, disownment, and desperate start in Chennai. Their tender first night, struggles for survival, and Prem’s growing protectiveness set the pattern. Prakash, the creepy colleague with a hidden craze for married women, manipulates friendship, moves them in, and nearly assaults an unconscious Nivi — stopped at the last moment by Prem. Pratap eliminates Prakash, Prem hides the truth to spare Nivi more trauma, and her surprise pregnancy brings joy amid guilt. Years pass: Prem builds his empire, overprotects Nivi (caging her dreams), raises Aara, and vows independence. The story loops back to the present sofa moment — doubts creeping again as Nivi is late, leading to the scooty accident and anniversary ahead.


Author’s Note / Disclaimer

So far, the story has been told almost entirely through the eyes of men — Prem’s memories, fears, and perceptions dominating the narrative, with Prakash’s dark thoughts adding another male lens. Nivi’s inner world remains largely unseen, her actions filtered through what Prem knows or imagines. This was deliberate: the flashbacks are Prem’s recollections, limited to his overthinking gaze, making her loyalty feel unbreakable and her beauty an object of obsession. 



Going forward, perspectives will broaden — Nivi’s voice, thoughts, and conflicted desires will emerge naturally, alongside Prem’s torment and the stranger’s calculated dominance, as the present-day events unfold from multiple angles. The slow-burn continues, but the plates are about to turn.




With Nivi so far seeing to be unshaken by mens so far will continue to be same?

• Will Aaravind strike a deal and finally claim her?
  
• Will there be a comeback for Prakash?
  
• What did Pratap truly want from the couple?
  
• What happens to Rakesh?
  

So many forces circled her — and she never broke.

Or has something new already begun?… the kind that doesn’t force its way in, but waits for her to open the door herself?



GUESS... & Answer your guesses 

[tomdickharry2024]

Beautiful build up.. love this plot and narrative point of view so far.. looking forward to hear nivi's side as well.
I hope from nivi's side whatever happens is with her consent.. not any blackmail or coercion

[heygiwriter]

Beautiful build up.. love this plot and narrative point of view so far.. looking forward to hear nivi's side as well.
I hope from nivi's side whatever happens is with her consent.. not any blackmail or coercion

I spent too much time in flashback just to register how Prem has been so far.. his insecurities path he travelled. Future episodes i planned it like it dive deep into Nivi thoughts.. and its choices they made.. thats the way i have planned lets see..

could you guess any of questions i asked above?

[tomdickharry2024]

Of all of them i would guess Prakash has the best chance of slipping into Prem's over protective shield and claiming nivi

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 10 – Nivi’s Other Side through Aravind Eyes.



The car hummed along the Chennai roads, Aara chattering in the back seat about the cake she wanted at the party.

Nivi smiled, hand on Prem's thigh. “You seem happier now.”

Prem nodded, pushing the morning's shadow away. “Yeah. Just excited for tonight.”

Aara giggled. “Surprise for Amma?”

Prem winked at Nivi. “Maybe.”

Meanwhile, across town in his glass office, Aaravind sat staring at an old photo on his phone — Nivi in college saree, fair skin glowing, smile innocent.


His mind reeled back twelve years.

Unlike what Prem thought — Nivi innocent, naive, the sheltered girl who needed protecting — she wasn't.

Not even close.

She was bolder, sharper, more confident than anyone gave her credit for — a quiet fire burning under that soft-spoken exterior, fair skin, and polite smile.

Aaravind knew that side. Only he did.

It started with her father — his own father's old friend from business circles — pulling him aside on the first day of college, voice low with concern.

“Nivi's been in girls' college her whole life. First co-ed for her. Treat her like your sister, da. Help her adjust. No boys around for twelve-plus years — she might struggle with the new environment, unseen troubles.”

Aaravind nodded, smiled the good-boy smile. “Of course, uncle. Don't worry.”
Nivi treated him special from day one — trusted instantly, no awkward pauses, no shy glances away like with other boys.
She'd call him for notes, sit next to him in canteen, share laughs without hesitation.
Maybe the "family" introduction sealed it. Or some instant bond clicked — she never felt odd with him, never pulled back.
Aaravind had been in love with Swetha, his college sweetheart — intense, all-consuming. But different colleges split them, distance turning passion to silence.
To fill the gap, he flirted — casual, harmless in his mind — with girls in his department.
Nivi was one. Beautiful, fair-skinned, soft-spoken voice that made you lean in.
He hated Prem's gang — different department, constant rivalry, cricket fights turning ugly.
Prem hated him back — glares across campus, muttered insults.
Then the cultural fest.

Prem on stage, dancing — confident moves, crowd cheering.
Nivi in the audience, watching.

Her eyes — meaningful, locked on him, soft but intense, like she saw something no one else did.
Aaravind felt it like a punch.

Furious. Strange jealousy surging.

Why him? That nobody?

That moment — urge hit hard.
I want her for myself.
Not just flirt.
Claim.

Possess.
He started flirting.
But Nivi deflected smoothly — knew about Swetha, turned topics, dropped calls for "study."
Never rude. Always polite.
One evening, Aaravind called her, voice casual but laced with intent.
"Hey, Nivi, what are you doing alone in that room? Thinking about me?"
She laughed lightly, but her tone was firm. "Aravind, stop. You have Swetha. And I have homework. Bye."
Click.

She cut the call without hesitation, no giggles, no playing along.

Aaravind stared at the phone, frustrated but impressed. She's not giggling like the others. Sharp. Confident. Doesn't need to play games to push back.

She never missed industrial visits, events — eager, participating, asking questions that showed she was thinking big.

From her words during those trips, he learned her dream: Start a company, like their fathers built from scratch.

"Look at what they did," she'd say, eyes lighting up as they toured a factory. "Starting with nothing, turning it into an empire. I want that — to create something, be my own boss."

But her father dismissed it — "Be a good girl, marry after studies. Business is for men."
Aaravind saw the fire in her, the way she clenched her fist slightly when talking about it.
He found a plot.

Another day, he called, starting with flirt.

"Nivi, you looked stunning in that saree today. Imagine if we skipped class... just you and me, somewhere quiet."

She paused, voice cooling. "Aravind, enough. That's not funny."

Before she could hang up, he switched seamlessly. "Wait, speaking of skipping — remember that company visit last week? The guy who started from a garage, now exporting worldwide? His story's incredible. No backing, just grit."

She stayed on the line. "Yeah... he bootstrapped everything. No loans, no family money. That's what I admire. Building from scratch, no shortcuts."

They talked for 20 minutes — her voice animated, ideas flowing about innovation, risks, scaling.

He wove in darker sides gradually, testing limits.

"Those founders... they take what they want. No apologies. Like in life — sometimes you have to grab opportunities, even if they're forbidden."

She chuckled. "Like sex before marriage? No, Aravind. That's not 'opportunity' — that's mess. Focus on the business part."

Deflected again — bold, calling it out, but steering back without breaking the conversation.

Sharp. Confident.

He pushed a little. "Come on, Nivi. Imagine the thrill — something secret, exciting. Like us skipping to a cafe, just talking... or more."

She sighed. "Aravind, you have Swetha. And I have standards. Let's stick to company stories — tell me about that startup that failed first then succeeded."

He laughed, switched back.

But he saw it — she knew his game, played along on her terms, never letting it cross her line.

Bolder than anyone realized.


Things turned awkward the day she admitted — first to him, of all people — that she loved Prem.

They were on a college industrial visit, sitting in the back of the bus on the return trip. The group was noisy, but Nivi leaned close, voice low, eyes shining with a mix of excitement and nerves.

"Aravind... I think I'm in love. With Prem."

He froze, smile stuck on his face.

Prem. That rival department guy. The one he hated.

"Why him?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

She shrugged, cheeks flushing slightly. "He... sees me. Really sees me. Not just the quiet girl."

Aaravind felt fury rise — hot, possessive.


That night, he started the rumors.

Quiet at first — whispers to his teammates.

"Nivi? Yeah, we've been hooking up. Fucked her daily after classes."

Word spread like wildfire.

Department chats, canteen gossip, anonymous notes.

"Nivi and Aaravind — doing it every day."

Some believed. Some laughed. Some pitied Prem's "rival."
But Nivi?

She never reacted.

Next day in class, she sat beside him like always, asked for notes, smiled the same polite smile.
Spoke normally — about assignments, visits, dreams.
No anger. No confrontation
.
He couldn't stand it.

One afternoon in the library corner, he asked directly.

"Why no reaction to the rumors about us? Everyone's talking — saying we... you know."

She looked up from her book, smiled calmly — confident, unshaken.

"No need to prove myself to anyone, Aravind. Rumors are just words. And just for that, I won't break a good bond."

Her eyes steady, voice firm.

She never knew he started them
.
Never suspected.

Her strength, determination — he saw it all clearly then.

The way she rose above it, focused on her path.

Knew if she loved Prem this deeply, she'd go with him one day — fight for him, leave everything.

He wanted to taste her — even if Prem married her.

Break that strength.

Make her his, just once.

The obsession hardened.





The 10 minutes before Prem burst into the indoor sports room were a blur of confusion and escalating tension for Nivi, her trust in Aaravind fracturing with every passing second.

She had followed him eagerly, excited by his promise of meeting a prominent industrialist who could offer insights into starting a company. "He's inspecting the room," Aaravind had said, leading her away from the post-match buzz. "Just us — he'll be here soon."

But as they entered the dimly lit space, decorations half-hung for the ceremony, the door clicked shut behind them. No guest in sight.

"Where is he?" Nivi asked, glancing around the empty room, her voice steady but with a hint of unease. She smoothed her saree, fair skin glowing under the flickering lights, unaware how Aaravind's eyes lingered on the curve of her waist.
Aaravind turned, his smile twisting into something darker. "He'll be here. But first… just one kiss, Nivi. That's all. Then I'll take you to him."

She froze, eyes widening. "No, Aaravind. That's not funny. Open the door."

When she tried to move past him toward the exit, he grabbed her from behind, arms wrapping around her waist like a vice. His hands slid up quickly, grabbing her breasts through the blouse, squeezing roughly. Nivi gasped, struggling, but his grip pinned her against him.

"Stop! Let go!" she shouted, voice shaking with anger and fear.

He ignored her, burying his face in her neck, kissing forcibly — lips pressing hard, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Nivi twisted, trying to pull away, but the touch sent an unwanted shiver through her — a moan escaping her lips despite the revulsion.

Aaravind paused, realizing. Neck's her weak spot.

He spun her around to face him, trying to hug from the front, hands fumbling to pull her closer. "See? You like it. Just give in."

She resisted fiercely, pushing at his chest. "No! Stop!"

That’s when the door burst open — Prem charging in, fist connecting with Aaravind's jaw, sending him reeling. The grapple, the iron rod, the scar — the rest was history.

They proposed because of him.

Ironically, his twisted plan in the indoor room — the grab, the force — brought Prem and Nivi together.
Prem's rescue turned fear into gratitude, gratitude into confession.

The hidden letter, the proposal under streamers.

All because Aaravind pushed too far.

She distanced after.

Nivi pulled back — polite but firm.

No more long calls. No sitting together in canteen.

Eyes averted when passing in corridors.

She knew something changed, even if she didn't suspect him fully.

Aaravind seethed, watching her with Prem — stolen glances turning to secret meetings.

Months later, he struck again.

Quiet whispers to mutual contacts, "exaggerated" stories to her father through family channels.

The beating on Prem — four men in shadows.

The rushed arranged marriage — 38-year-old hotel owner, "stable."

Spoiled their plans perfectly.

Almost.

They eloped anyway.

Now, twelve years later.

Prem has her — married, child, building company.

With orders that could come from him? Aaravind's firm in position to approve or block.
No.

Pending story.

Unfinished business.

This time, he'll make them surrender.

Force Prem to give her up — even for a week.

Take her.

Break her.

Aaravind resolute, jaw set.

He grabbed his keys, suit jacket.

The party hall — Prem's place., He got to know from a man whom he send to follow Prem..

He'd arrive uninvited.
Make his demand.
Watch Prem crumble.
Smile as Nivi's eyes widened.
This time, she will suck my cock before Prem..

That's his plan....

[heygiwriter]

How about posting Images? like from AI generated to give a glimpse of character i designed in mind.. is that allowed?

[Twilight123]

Nice update

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 11 – The Anniversary


The party hall was alive with warmth and laughter. About twenty people — old colleagues from Prem's trading days, a few new faces from his growing team, and Pratap as the honored guest — filled the space with toasts and memories. Aara darted between legs, chasing balloons, her giggles cutting through the chatter.

Prem watched Nivi circulate, saree shimmering under the lights, fair skin glowing, curves graceful as she smiled and thanked everyone. His heart swelled. The surprise in his pocket felt heavier by the minute.

He pulled her aside near the cake table. “Nivi, I hid something for you in the hall. Find it — your anniversary gift.”

Nivi raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Hidden? Okay…”

She searched discreetly — behind decorations, under tables — until Aara, jumping excitedly, pointed to a decorative box on a side table.

Nivi opened it.

Inside: a sleek keycard and engraved plaque.

Prem Infinity Solutions

Her eyes widened at the engraved plaque, then softened — not with joy, but something quieter, almost resigned.

She turned to him, voice calm and measured. “Congratulations, Prem.”

He beamed, heart racing, expecting more — tears of happiness, a jump into his arms, that wide smile she used to give when dreams felt close.

But she extended her hand formally, like a colleague at a meeting.

He took it, grip lingering, confusion creeping in. “I thought you’d jump in joy. Don’t you remember? It’s your dream — starting a company. I’m doing it. For us.”

Nivi’s smile stayed polite, but her eyes turned distant, as if looking past him.

“Congrats, darling,” she said softly. “But if I was the one starting it… maybe I’d jump. This is yours. How can I take credit for your doings?”

Prem felt something crack inside — small, sharp, like glass under pressure.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice dropping. “Yours/mine — it’s ours. We’re husband and wife.”

She tilted her head slightly, gaze steady. “What’s my role in the company?”

He laughed, trying to lighten the moment, brush it off as teasing. “Don’t joke. Your time is perfect — home, Aara. I’ll take care. Consider it your company; I’m just managing it anyway.”

He laughed again, a bit shameless, expecting her to join in.

But he caught it — her face turning cold, sudden, like a light switching off behind her eyes.

The warmth gone.

Smile frozen.

He clapped quickly, forcing cheer. “Okay, okay — surprise done. Let’s cut the cake.”

They stepped to the table together, knives in hand, smiles plastered for the crowd.

Flashes from phones.
Cheers.
But between them, the air felt heavier.
The cake cut clean.
The moment didn't.


Everything went normal again — toasts, gifts, Pratap arriving with a warm envelope and hug.


Prem felt guilty — the old suspicion about Pratap's closeness to Nivi. But Pratap sensed nothing, or pretended not.


Almost an hour later.


A luxury white car pulled into the parking — the one from Nivi's morning accident.


Rohan stepped out, suited, tall frame commanding even in casual stride.


He headed straight to the office room adjacent to the hall — his routine monthly check on accounts and progress.


One of his entities — premium party halls chain.


Coincidence he came tonight.
As he browsed systems in the quiet office, eyes scanning reports, his gaze drifted to the hall monitor feed.


Nivi.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 11 Continuation .... 


Nivi.


Graceful in saree, laughing with guests.


This woman… morning accident. Now here?
Intrigued.


He'd forgotten the bump almost immediately — busy day.
But second time in hours.
Her fair beauty, curves, innocent panic from morning — now composed, glowing.


He measured her with his eyes, can't help it.
PA entered with file.


Rohan removed suit jacket, rolled sleeves — looked like formal staff checking accounts.


Suddenly, watchman reported commotion.

Rohan glanced at screen — man arguing with host.


Aaravind's voice cut through the warm buzz of the hall, sharp and loud.
"You promised full sign-off! Used funds for demos without approval — I'll sue!"
The crowd tensed instantly — conversations died, glasses paused mid-air, eyes turning.


Prem's face flushed with rage and humiliation.


Rohan, in the adjacent office reviewing accounts, frowned at the monitor feed. Rohan hates commotion in his property.


He grabbed a random file from the desk — prop to blend — rolled his sleeves higher, and walked out casually, like any staff member checking noise.


Approached the group just as Aaravind shifted tactic, his tone turning oily, eyes fixed on Nivi with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.


"Fine, no legal for now," he said, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. 


"But we need to settle this properly. Full commitment, like we discussed. Sit down, talk terms... maybe Nivi can join. She always had a good head for business — knows how to smooth things over, close a deal the right way."


The words hung cryptic, layered — "smooth things over," "close a deal" — but the leer in his gaze as it raked her saree-clad figure, lingering on her curves, made the implication unmistakable to the crowd.


Whispers rippled immediately.
"Did he just...?"
"Talking about her like that?"
"Disgusting."


Prem froze a second, then fury exploded. "The amount is deposited by your company! I didn't touch a rupee other than for demos and its submitted at your office — it's all accounted!"


Aaravind smirked. "Verbal commitment means nothing. Only written. You came to my office this morning for the sign-off — and walked away without it. Return the money, or I'll sue. Blacklist you in every circle. No one will touch your little startup."


Prem's jaw clenched, determined. Silence — but not surrender.


Aaravind saw the silence, leaned in closer to Nivi with that oily smile, voice low but loud enough for the nearby crowd to hear.


"Maybe Nivi can come with me to my guesthouse. We can discuss the business there — privately. It would be a better anniversary gift for you both."


He paused, eyes raking her slowly.


"Let Prem treat the guests here while we... sort things out."


The implication hung heavy — "discuss business" twisted into something intimate, the guesthouse a clear proposition.


Crowd tensed harder, whispers sharp.
"That's low..."
"Did he just suggest...?"


Nivi's face flushed with shock and fury.


Prem's blood boiled — he stepped forward, hand shooting out to grab Aaravind's collar.


Before he could connect, a sharp knock cracked on Aaravind's head from behind.
Rohan.


Aaravind spun, rubbing his skull. "Who the hell—?"


Rohan stood calm, voice deep and even. "Doesn't matter. You crossed limits here."


Aaravind eyed the file tucked under Rohan's arm, the rolled sleeves, the plain shirt — mistook him completely for a desperate Marketing person on a similar IT Outsourcing company men who'd been hounding him for signatures on another deal.


"You? The beggar following me everywhere with files? Stop trailing me for your damn contract! Begging like Prem here? Guts to lecture me now?"


Second slap — harder, echoing.
"Get out."
Aaravind stormed off, fuming, shouting over his shoulder as he pushed through the doors.


"It's done! I won't sign your damn contract! Set foot in my office again, I'll kick your ass!"


The hall fell silent a beat, then murmurs rose.


Rohan didn't linger — turned smoothly, file in hand, walked back toward the office like nothing happened.


Prem followed quickly, overthinking already spinning worst-case.
He assumed Rohan was some mid-level Tech guy who'd lost a big deal intervening in their mess.


"Sir, sorry — you got involved unnecessarily, probably lost your contract because of us."


Prem handed his visiting card hastily. "Don't worry. Let's work together — I owe you."


Rohan paused, puzzled inwardly — Who is this guy? Thinking I'm some desperate salesman?
Nivi followed too, gentle smile. "Hello, I'm Nivisha Prem. He's my husband. It's our anniversary — please join us for dinner at least. Thank you for standing up like that."


Rohan looked at her properly — third time today. This is first time he saw her this close..


Morning accident glimpse — panicked beauty running away.
Monitor feed — graceful in saree.
Now close — fair skin flushed slightly, eyes warm, voice soft.


Tempted, pulse quickening. He knows he could not resiste.. He himself surprised by how they mistook him for a cheap sort of… He smiled inside.. He is Powerful man — women threw themselves at him with a glance. But this lady and her husband…. Any he is not greedy. Not psycho chasing every beauty. He decided to leave them alone and move …
He is Married. Kids in Kerala. He has no idea of lusting for any strangers.
He just saud… "No, thanks."
He nodded politely, walked out.


His driver had parked outside — hall lot full for the party.

As he left, Prem and Nivi exchanged glances.

Good man.

Lost a deal helping us.
Guilt passed over them.
Not knowing his real identity.

[heygiwriter]

Reply back with your theories!

Prem's flashbacks from his memories and Aaravind's recall hint at one thing: 

Nivi is stronger, bolder, more determined, and even had big ideas than Prem ever realized. 

But her love for Prem has put her in a cage — a cage of love and family that made her forget who she really is.

This also proves Prem never really knows who his wife is. Nine years of marriage, and he doesn't know anything about her dreams, goals, or inner fire? 

Even the so-called surprise doesn't excite Nivi, and she said why... Will Nivi follow her dreams? Will they come true? 

If it was 9 years back, Nivi would have reacted fiercely to Aaravind's proposition, but now she just froze — does she secretly want to listen to him? 

Are her business ideas and dreams still alive inside, or is she expecting a power to break her out of this cage and give her more? Is she done with it all?


Who do you think will break her boundary — Aaravind? 
Prakash? 
Rakesh? 

Is Rohan a villain or a hero? He seems to align with Pratap's kind of person now...

what do you think? Reply back with your theories!

[heygiwriter]

Nice update

Thanks a lot

[tomdickharry2024]

After the way he behaved Aarvind has no chance I believe. It has to be Prakash!

[heygiwriter]

After the way he behaved Aarvind has no chance I believe.  It has to be Prakash!

Good guess. But he will try right? Also we have added a layer that Nivi is already pissed like how she was reduced to just home taker when she is ambitious.

[heygiwriter]

Of all of them i would guess Prakash has the best chance of slipping into Prem's over protective shield and claiming nivi

Your take is prakash right?

Why not Aravind/Rakesh/Pratap or new person Rohan?

[Deepak.kapoor]

Your take is prakash right?

Why not Aravind/Rakesh/Pratap or new person Rohan?

Hi ,

I feel Rohan has better chance , as he admire her but is not blindly following her . Your heroine has  been shown as strong women but getting suffocated in marriage . Nice story plot .

Thanks

[heygiwriter]

Hi ,

I feel Rohan has better chance , as he admire her but is not blindly following her . Your heroine has  been shown as strong women but getting suffocated in marriage . Nice story plot .

Thanks

Thanks Deepak.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 12 – The Stranger's Gaze (Rohan's Perspective)




As Nivi and Prem looking at each other inside party hall after Rohan left… The same night outside party hall. Outside gate 20 ft away. Rohan. sat in the back of his Mercedes, the city lights of Chennai blurring past the tinted windows like streaks of neon fire. The driver was silent as always — professional, discreet, knowing better than to interrupt when the boss's mood darkened.

He was pissed.

Not the explosive kind that made him raise his voice or slam fists — Rohan didn't do explosive.

Quiet, simmering anger that built like pressure in a sealed vault.

His wife — beautiful, sharp-tongued, the daughter of that powerful Kerala politician — had chosen to stay back in their ancestral home with the kids and her sprawling family.

No fights. No screaming matches or ultimatums. Just a calm, unyielding preference. She loved her place, her roots, the influence and comfort of her father's world.

Her demand had always been simple: "Come back to Kerala. Build everything here. With us."

Rohan, born and raised in Chennai, his business empire deeply rooted in this city's soil — real estate developments, premium party halls, silent but substantial shares in tech firms — had never dared uproot it all.

Weekly visits became the compromise
.
Private flights down, forced smiles for the kids, polite dinners with in-laws, and duty in bed when she allowed it — mechanical, distant.

Off late, almost a year now, even that heat had gone cold.
She was demanding — more time, more presence, more surrender to her world.

He grew distant, resentful.

So he found the heat elsewhere. Women.

It started casual.
Models — stunning, high-maintenance, expecting fat envelopes for a single night of no-strings passion.
He paid gladly — bodies perfect, performances professional.
Then forbidden ones — the wife of a mid-level colleague who eyed his watch too long, or a sharp staffer from one of his companies who "accidentally" brushed against him in meetings.

Only those already tempted by the money, the power, the thrill of secrecy.
He never chased emotions. No attachment. No repeats unless convenient.

Sometimes a challenge — the tough ones who played hard to get, acted indifferent.
He loved breaking them slow — the chase, the surrender, the quiet power of making them crave what they pretended to resist.

But Nivi?

Three times in one day.
Morning — the scooty bump into his parked car. Her panicked beauty as she glanced back — fair skin flushed, saree fluttering, curves catching light before she sped away.

He'd forgotten it almost immediately — minor annoyance.
Then the party hall monitor — his own property. Graceful in silk saree, fair skin glowing under lights, moving with quiet confidence among guests.

Invitation close — soft voice, warm eyes thanking him, guilt in her smile.

Not ordinary.

Coincidence? Three encounters?

Coincidence?

Three encounters in hours?

In a city of millions?

He leaned back in the seat, city lights reflecting in his eyes.

Sharp businessman — coincidences were opportunities.

Or warnings.
But her face lingered.

Not just beauty.

Something else.

Quiet fire.

He pushed the thought down.

For now.


In just five minutes, everything crossed his mind as he watched the couple — fighting for their dignity, standing together in the face of humiliation, while his own wife demanded something he couldn't afford to give.

His mind reeled at the coincidence of encountering this woman three times in a single day. She was gorgeous, no doubt, and he thought Prem was lucky. But more than the couple themselves, he was irritated by Aaravind's behavior. 

No one could say it was none of his business — because what Aaravind was doing might impact his own business.


Because unknown to Aravind Rohan is the largest shareholder of his company..

Sharp businessman — information always at his fingertips, every detail cataloged, every connection mapped.


Largebase Solutions — 39% his shares, a silent investment he'd made years ago through layered trusts, content to let others run the day-to-day while dividends flowed.

He knew every face in his vast entities, every key player who mattered — from boardroom executives to the quiet influencers behind scenes.

He'd reviewed the annual reports, glanced at org charts, but never needed to interfere.
Until now.

Aaravind the CFO — photo on the company website, professional headshot with that same smug half-smile.
Face he recognized instantly.

The man he'd slapped at his own party hall just hours ago.

Threatening a couple — that young husband and his beautiful wife — over some personal vendetta, old college grudge by the looks of it.

Abusing company power, funds, reputation for revenge.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 12 – Continued....

Rohan was cautious about image — his empire built on discretion, clean lines, no scandals.


Private matter? Fine. Handle your obsessions quietly — sleep with who you want, chase ghosts from the past.
But dragging the company's name into it? Threatening lawsuits on letterhead, misusing demo funds for leverage?
No.
Unacceptable.

He had never stepped foot in Largebase headquarters — seven years since incorporation, perfectly content with silent profits, quarterly reports, and the occasional dividend wire.

No need to show his face.
Until tonight.
Now?
Time to.

Aaravind had crossed the line — turned personal poison into corporate liability.
Rohan would handle it.
Personally.

And that woman — Nivi.
Her face lingered in his mind, uninvited, sharper than the others.
Morning accident — flustered beauty.
Hall monitor — composed grace.
Close invitation — warm eyes, soft guilt.
Three times.
Not coincidence.
Destiny? Wild thought for a man like him — pragmatic, calculated.
He pushed it down.
Focused on business.
But decided.
Action.

Aaravind's team arrived the next morning to Prem place with a legal notice,  "Sign the deal immediately or pay 10 crore penalty for breach of agreement." They hand overed the documents and went asking to come back to office soon. 

Nivi read it first, scanning the paper at the breakfast table, eyes fierce — a flash of fire Prem had never seen before, like steel under silk.

"I'll come with you," she said, voice steady, no hesitation.

Prem blinked, surprised but nodding.

They decided: Meet a lawyer first.

Get advice.

Before facing Aaravind.