Adultery The Husband’s Doubt [Completed]

[readersp]

Good going!!! Keep the flow going!!!

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 13 – The Unexpected Ally



Prem got call after call.. All the sub contracts he was about to sign were put on hold by the companies..


Prem looking at the Idlis in plate he could not focus on anything… 
"Sign the deal immediately or pay a 10 crore penalty for breach of agreement."
The voices still echo.. 


Not even one day since surprise he gave for Nivi.. he was pressurized to surrender to Aravind.
He has to take up the deal from Largebase solutions.. Prem now thinks he should have signed the agreement that day.. 
Now aravind is openly threatening.. Making him surrender he hates it. Prem invested lakhs of amount into it.


He decided to meet Aravind private and discuss that no one has to loose if it ends with apology he is ready to do.. But if he has any sinister plan he is ready to quit and rejoin pratap..


After breakfast Prem said he will be going to meet Aravind tomorrow and discuss. Nivi fetched the paper from him..
Nivi read it first, scanning the paper at the breakfast table, her 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. "Okay. But first, lawyer."
They decided: Get advice.
Before facing Aaravind.


Back at Largebase Solutions headquarters the next day.


The people in the company running here and there words are that their biggest shareholder let the VP know he is coming here for unknown reason. 


Aaravind was in an important VP meeting, barking orders, face still bruised from Rohan's slaps.
The company and staff had no idea who their biggest share holder (Rohan) really was — silent shareholder, never visited.
So when Rohan arrived — simple shirt, no suit, file in hand — reception made him wait in the lobby like any visitor.



Prem and Nivi arrived the same moment, spotted him sitting there.
Prem approached, concerned. "You again? Is Aaravind making things hard for you because of last night?"
Rohan didn't open his mouth at first, expression neutral. "Just look after your business. Don't interfere in my way."
Prem, full of himself, laughed it off. "Man, you're too cocky. What prestige do you have? We felt indebted — you stood for us, faced heat. See, I know you're a tech guy like me. Open offer: Join me. I'll take you places."


Rohan stood slowly, placed a hand on Prem's shoulder — firm, brotherly — looked at Nivi a beat longer, then guided Prem aside.
"Buddy, come this side."
Voice low. "How long you in this business?"
Prem puffed. "Ten years."
Rohan nodded. "I do multiple. Been here fifteen years — started at twenty. Now thirty-five. I still take care of things."
He patted Prem's shoulder, polite but dismissive, moved to another seat.


Prem felt insulted, muttered to Nivi. "Too cocky."


Nivi pulled him. "Maybe better we keep quiet. He feels irritated because of us — deal off."


Aaravind emerged then, saw the three, smirked.
"Important VP meeting. Heard our big shareholder arriving today — hates commotion, especially from people like you." Pointed at Rohan.
"Come back tomorrow."
Rohan smiled sheepishly. "Okay, sir. I'll meet you tomorrow."



Next day, the three met again in lobby..
Aaravind waved them in impatiently. "Shareholder didn't arrive yesterday.. Dont know why he keeps delaying… people say he is arriving anytime. 
Aravind was impatient to knock a deal with Prem openly taking Nivi.. 
But a second look at Rohan.. He decided to play the 3 of them.. 


He said looking Rohan with a mocking smile.. Sheepishly 
No separate times — all three, come."


In the conference room.
Aaravind leaned back. "Mr...?"
Rohan calm. "My name is Rohan."
Aaravind snorted. "Listen, Rohan — I can't sign after you humiliated me. But chance for you."
The chance depends on the couple's outcome…
Turned to Prem. "Dear Prem — ex-enemy, present enemy, cum friend — I'll take back legal notice. Leave you alone."


Pause, eyes on Nivi.'

"One condition: Nivi takes over the business. She signs, works with me."

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 13  --- Continued


Prem exploded. Stop it its Unreasonable! Grudge on me — bring it on me. Why her?"


Aaravind mocked innocence. "Don't you know? I love seeing her as entrepreneur. Nothing else. 
Whatever dirty crosses your mind is yours, not mine."


Prem: I know you are the reason why all my other clients are putting my projects on Hold.


Aravind said: You should have predicted the day when you quarelled with me in the party hall.. Deal or no Deal
Prem: we wont sell our dignity…


Grinned at Rohan. "Hey, Rohan - You got a chance now….outcome from couple is no deal… if you convince Nivisha madam, I can sign your deal too. What say?"


Rohan stepped forward and punched Aaravind clean on the nose — a sharp crack, blood spurting instantly.
"Add a legal notice for this too," Rohan said calmly. "I'll face it."


Aaravind shouted, clutching his nose. "Who do you think you are? Securities!"
Rohan shushed him, finger to his lips. "Don't make the staff hear the CFO got beaten. Bad for company image."


He turned back to Prem.
Prem and Nivi stood stunned, minds racing. How in the world does a mid-level tech guy have the guts to punch one of the most powerful men in the company? Is he mad?


Rohan spoke evenly. "I heard this gentleman blocked all your projects with other companies, right?"
Nivi nodded. "Yes... sir."
Rohan: "I can fix it."
Prem scoffed. "You can have fifteen years' experience, but don't bluff here."


Rohan handed over his visiting card — simple, elegant, reading only "Rohan" and a contact number. No title, no company, no other details.


Rohan continued, voice steady. "You don't need to trust me. I'm not helping you. I'm just teaching him" — he nodded at Aaravind — "that being powerful comes with responsibility too. If I get your contracts back, his arrogance will be buried."
He paused. "Before tonight, every client will call and resume your projects. Just WhatsApp me all your client details."


Then, to Prem: "Call me tomorrow — you'll have all your contracts back."


Rohan turned to Aaravind. "We will meet soon," he said coolly, and walked away.
Moments later, Nivi and Prem decided to leave the place.


Before exiting, Nivi turned to Aaravind, voice firm and clear.

"Back then, I trusted you as a friend. You harmed me. Now you're doing it again. You know how strong and determined I am. We will rise together. It's just one business you blocked — we'll start something new. I wanted to think of it as a misunderstanding, but for the second time, you've proved you haven't changed."

"Let's go, Prem."


Nivi walked out with him, head high.


Prem had never heard Nivi speak this boldly — no surrender, no fear.


Hours passed…. Both watching TV while Aaara playing with her toys, Nivi stared at the card.
The font of "Rohan" — elegant, distinctive. She'd seen it somewhere... that Mercedes Benz from the accident?
She was intrigued, but dismissed it. No relation.


She asked Prem, "Did you send the client details?"
Prem shook his head. "No."
Prem: "He's some madman, just proving he's tough. Showing off. Ignore him."


Nivi took out her mobile, saved the number, and asked Prem for the client details.
Prem hesitated, then sighed. "Okay, I'll give. But Rohan won't convince anyone. Don't get disappointed."
Nivi: "Don't say that without trying."
She got the list and sent it.


That night, she couldn't sleep.
The harasser from her past was back.
She recalled how overjoyed she'd felt seeing Aaravind at the party hall — thinking he still looked out for her, like old times. She thought it was the age factor which would have made Aravind to do recklessly back then now with responsibilities married he would have been changed.. But he failed her..
Ever since marriage, her world had felt small. Just three people: Aara, Prem, and fatherly Pratap.
She'd hoped Aaravind could join as a good friend.
But he failed her. Completely.
She lost all confidence in how her life would be from now on — without a single true soul around her apart from Aara.


Her mobile blinked at 10:30 PM.

Message: Got your clients list! Thanks. With regards, Rohan.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 14 – Lunch Invitation


The morning after the message from Rohan, Prem’s phone started ringing before he even finished his coffee.
One client. Then another. Then three more.

Apologies. “Misunderstanding.” Projects unblocked. Full speed ahead.

Prem stared at the screen, idlis cooling untouched on his plate.

He turned to Nivi, voice disbelieving. “They’re all back. Every single one. The company… it’s back on its legs.”

Nivi looked up from helping Aara with breakfast, eyes sharp. “Rohan?”

Prem shook his head. “I still don’t believe it’s him.”

Before Nivi could reply, Prem was already dialing Aaravind.

The call connected.

“Thanks, man,” Prem started, words tumbling out. 

“Sorry, I don’t know how you unblocked everything. If there was any misunderstanding… I’ve got nothing to do with that Rohan guy—”

Nivi’s face darkened. She hissed under her breath, low enough only Prem heard: “Don’t you have even a little self-respect?”

Aaravind’s laugh crackled through the speaker, cold and mocking.

“Stop, stop, stoop,” he sneered. 

“Unblocked? Bullshit. 

No one has the guts to offend our group.” A pause, voice turning oily.
“Let me tell you the real deal—give me Nivi, take the contracts back.”


Nivi’s hand shot out. She plucked the phone from Prem’s grip.

“Fuck you, Aaravind,” she said, clear and cutting, then cut the call.

The room went silent.

Prem stared at her, stunned. He had never heard her swear. Never seen that steel in her eyes.

Moments later, voice quieter, Prem muttered, “Was it really Rohan?”

Nivi set the phone down. “Who else do you think?” 

She met his gaze. “Don’t judge everyone by appearance… or gender. 
You never know someone’s potential.”

The words hung. Prem felt them land—not just about Rohan.

He looked away, pride stung, but something shifted inside him. Quiet. Unspoken.

He pulled out Rohan’s simple visiting card and dialed.

“Hello, Rohan. Prem here.”
Rohan’s voice, calm on the other end. “Yes?”

“Who are you, really?”

A soft smile in Rohan’s tone, though Prem couldn’t see it. “I’m a businessman. I bring business, people return favors. That network helped.”

Prem swallowed. “Thank you. And… sorry for judging you.”

Rohan’s reply was indifferent. “I don’t care, Mr. Prem. Do your work now. No more legal troubles. Show progress with other clients—Largebase might reconsider when they see you succeeding.”

Click. Call ended.

Rohan set the phone down in his penthouse office overlooking the Bay of Bengal.

He had already handled Aaravind—the CFO would stay clueless how a “mid-level tech guy” had pulled it off. Perfect punishment: confusion, humiliation, powerlessness.

Rohan had no real interest in Prem or Nivi beyond teaching Aaravind a lesson.

He planned to hand the rest to his VP, step back.

Until the phone rang again twenty minutes later.

Prem.
“My wife… she wants to thank you properly. Lunch at our place?”
Rohan’s first instinct: No.

He didn’t need gratitude. Or complications.

But curiosity tugged—their story, Aaravind’s obsession, the woman who had sent the list herself.

And something else. A pull he couldn’t name yet.

“Outside,” Rohan said. “Somewhere open. Garden restaurant on ECR stretch. Tomorrow, 1 PM.”


They agreed.

[heygiwriter]

Good going!!! Keep the flow going!!!

Thanks a lot

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 15 –  Nivi and Rohan’s Chase begun!


The seaside garden restaurant on ECR was quiet for a weekday afternoon—waves crashing in the distance, frangipani petals scattered on the wooden tables, the salt breeze carrying the scent of the sea.


Prem and Nivi arrived a few minutes late, Prem apologising as they sat. Aara was with a neighbour for the day—Prem had insisted it be just the three of them.

Introductions were brief. Rohan shook Prem’s hand firmly, then Nivi’s—his grip warm, lingering half a second longer than necessary, though his face stayed neutral.

Prem couldn’t hold it in. “Who are you, really?” How did you offend largebase solutions and got back my contract..
Rohan leaned back, ordered a fresh lime soda, dragged the moment.

“An investor, basically.” A small smile. “I don’t always bring money. I bring connections. Assets. People. I make others invest in startups—or any business that interests me. They pay me one-time, or they give shares. Either way, my business runs.”

The foods arrived and they spoke as they proceed with dinner.

Prem nodded, impressed but still curious. “Then why follow Aaravind so relentlessly for a deal?”

Rohan’s eyes flicked with amusement. “Aaravind never gave me a chance to speak who I was. From the first word, he decided I was a mid-level tech guy.” He looked at Prem pointedly. “Like you did.”

Prem flushed. “Sorry. Really.”

Rohan waved it off. “It’s okay. But in business, let the other guy speak too.”

Nivi had been watching carefully, listening to every word. Rohan felt her gaze—steady, thoughtful. He met it once or twice, held it, then looked away.

Prem, eager to move on, leaned forward. “I have big dreams. The clients you unblocked—they’re small. Companies like Largebase are the real targets.”

Rohan sipped his drink. “If you have a proper, scalable model, you can crack anything.”

Prem’s eyes lit up. “If you’re interested, I can explain. My model is the real deal.”

Rohan gestured. “I’m all ears.” If it impresses i will get you clients..

Prem launched in—technical details, cost structures, delivery pipelines, margins. He spoke with passion, hands moving, convinced he was selling the future.

Rohan listened, asked sharp questions—edge cases, scalability bottlenecks, competition. Prem answered well, but stumbled on one: “And how do you convince a sceptical client this is better than the ten other firms pitching the same thing?”

Silence.

Nivi spoke for the first time, voice calm, clear.

“You don’t sell the model. You sell the outcome. The client isn’t buying code—they’re buying certainty. That their product launches on time, that bugs won’t bleed money, that their investors will see growth, not excuses. You tell the story of how we saved a startup from collapse, how we became their unseen backbone. You make them feel they’re choosing safety and ambition, not just a vendor.”


Prem turned to her, surprised.


Rohan’s expression didn’t change, but inside something shifted.
Impressed didn’t cover it.


Prem thought … She had barely heard the details last night—snatches of conversation at home—yet she had distilled it into something a boardroom would buy in minutes.


Rohan breaks the silence..

He looked at Prem. “You handle operations and delivery. Let Nivi handle pitches—or let her teach you behind closed doors.”

Prem laughed, a little forced. “I developed the model. Won’t I be able to sell it?”

Rohan didn’t smile. “That’s the point. You can build it. Doesn’t mean you can sell it.”


Prem’s laugh faded. He looked at Nivi again, really looked—as if seeing something new.


Prem continued. “Will you be interested in joining me? Get me clients.” Prem said . “I can pay upfront for clients.”

Rohan considered. “Good. I’ll bring some—if the math works.”
Prem offered 5% equity.
Rohan countered 10%.
They settled at 8%.
Nivi spoke quietly. “6%. Fair for connections and risk.”
Both men turned to her.

Rohan’s eyes held hers again—longer this time.
She didn’t look away.
He smiled, small. “6%.”


Rohan stood. “Next week, prepare. I’m bringing better clients. It’s up to you to make it work. Don’t spoil the brief like you did today.” He looked at Prem, then Nivi. “Either Nivi handles it… or she teaches you behind walls. I need results. Don’t waste my clients.”


For the first time.. Nivi felt like someone was seeing her worth.. Someone acknowledging her talent.. In most professional way she can get .. Rohan is not trying to impress he is just stating the fact both prem and nivi can sense it..

As lunch was done… Rohan stood up


He nodded goodbye and walked toward the parking.
They followed moments later.
Then the sky broke.

Sudden, heavy Chennai rain—pouring like a curtain.

The open garden offered little cover. Guests scattered, running for sheds and awnings.

Prem grabbed Nivi’s hand. “I’ll bring the car to that side—wait under the shed!”

Nivi ran toward the nearest shelter, saree already soaking.

The light blue cotton turned translucent in seconds—clinging to every curve. Her sky-blue blouse and contrast bra dark against wet fabric, clearly visible. Hair plastered to her neck, water streaming down fair skin.

Men nearby turned. Eyes lingered.

Rohan, already under the main awning, saw it all.

Something snapped inside him.
Not just beauty.
Power.

A woman who commanded a table without trying, who had been hidden, caged—and now, drenched, unshielded, radiant.

His body reacted before his mind—hard, sudden, undeniable. Right there in public.

He didn’t care.

He walked out into the rain, suit jacket in hand, straight to her.

Nivi looked up, surprised, water dripping from her lashes.

“No, thank you—” she started.

He didn’t ask. Politely, firmly, dbangd the heavy overcoat over her shoulders, covering her completely.

“I’ll collect it later,” he said, voice low, eyes intense.

Prem’s car pulled up. Rohan opened the door for her, took back his wet coat as she slid in.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

The car pulled away.

Rohan stood in the rain a moment longer.
His Mercedes arrived.
He got in, closed the door.

The image burned behind his eyes—wet saree clinging, curves outlined, that quiet fire now mixed with raw, natural sensuality.

For the first time in years, he wanted more than a night.
He wanted to possess her.
Body. Mind. Fire.
All of it.

As Prem drove home, Nivi wiped her face with tissue, opened the dashboard mirror to check her bindi.

She saw it then—how visible her bra had been against the wet saree.
She realised why Rohan had come out in the rain.
Not to stare.
To cover her.

In a world where men like Aaravind, Prakash (she has a doubt), Rakesh had only ever tried to take—
Rohan had protected her dignity without being asked.
For a moment, she felt… good.
Seen.
Safe.
And something else she couldn’t name yet.

Unknown to her, in the Mercedes trailing a few cars behind on ECR—
Rohan was already planning the next move.
The chase had truly begun. Nivi decided to explore this opportunity and chase her dream.. While Rohan’s chase is Nivi?

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 16 – The Dream and the Plan (Rohan’s POV)


Rohan drove back from ECR in silence, the wipers slashing through the lingering rain.

His suit jacket still carried the faint scent of her — jasmine hair oil mixed with wet cotton and warm skin.

He couldn’t shake it.

In the penthouse, he poured a whiskey, stood at the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the dark sea.

His mind replayed the afternoon in loops.

The way she spoke at the table — calm, sharp, commanding without raising her voice.

The way the breeze pressed her pallu against her body.

The way the rain turned that light saree into a second skin — full breasts straining, dark bra visible, nipples hard from the cold, hips swaying as she ran.
His cock stirred again, just remembering.

He had fucked models who posed for hours to look half as good.

Taken married women who whispered his name like a prayer while their husbands slept in the next room.

But none of them burned into him like this.

Nivi wasn’t offering herself.
She wasn’t even aware.
That was the fire.

A devoted wife. A hidden mind. A body softened by motherhood, yet still lush, untouched in the way he wanted to touch it.

He wanted to ruin that devotion.
Slowly.
Completely.

He needed leverage. Hooks. A way in.

He hadn’t heard their full story — only fragments. Aaravind knew her from college. Knew her weaknesses, her past. Rohan needed that knowledge.

He would get it.


Business would be the door to be near her — the 6% stake, the clients, the “training Nivi, - the Excuse Perfect cover.

Identity hidden. For now.


He finished the whiskey, went to bed.




Bright morning.. 

He was in a large hotel suite — one of his own properties, though he didn’t recognise it in the dream.
Soft lighting. Red curtains.

Nivi stood in the middle of the room.
No saree.

A red kurta — thin, no dupatta. Clinging to her curves like it was painted on. Full breasts pressing against the fabric, waist narrow, hips flaring. Fair skin glowing warm.
She looked at him, eyes dark, lips parted.

“Rohan,” she said, voice low. “Why are you pretending? Don’t you want to stare at me?”

He crossed the room in three strides.


Wrapped his arms around her from behind, hands sliding up to cup her breasts — heavy, soft, perfect weight in his palms.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he growled against her ear.

“Yes, baby,” she whispered, arching back into him. “Fuck me. I’m yours.”

He pressed harder, thumbs circling her nipples through the fabric, feeling them harden instantly.

“Why do you always wear sarees?” he muttered, teeth grazing her neck. “In a kurta like this… you look so fucking sexy. I want to tear it off and fuck you senseless.”

“Then do it,” she breathed. “Fuck me, Rohan. I’m yours.”

He spun her, pushed her back onto the bed.
She fell, legs parting, kurta riding up.
He climbed over her, cock throbbing, ready to—
A sudden jerk.
He hit the floor.
Hard.

Eyes snapped open.
Midnight. 2 AM.

Penthouse bedroom. Alone.
Cock aching against his boxers, heart pounding.
Just a dream.

The most vivid one he’d had in years.
He lay there, breathing hard.
No pretending games.

Tomorrow, he would start.
First — Aaravind. Get the history. The hooks.
Then — business meetings. Private ones.
He would hide who he really was.
Get close.

And when the time was right —
He would fuck her.
Madly.
Brutally.
Until she forgot every other man’s name.
Until that quiet fire screamed only for him.

He closed his eyes again, hand sliding down, stroking himself slow to the memory of her wet saree, her voice at lunch, the dream version begging.

Tomorrow, the plan began.

[heygiwriter]

The Dream sequence Generated by AI

Nivi and Rohan

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 17 – The Price of Information (Rohan’s POV)


The next morning, Rohan walked into Largebase Solutions headquarters like he owned the place.
He did — thirty-nine percent of it.
No appointment. No announcement.
Straight to the chairman’s office on the top floor.

The chairman — an older man who had long ago handed day-to-day control to the board — looked up, surprised but not startled. He knew who paid the real bills.
“Rohan. Been a while.”

“Summon Aaravind.”

The chairman pressed the intercom. Minutes later, Aaravind strode in — confident, bruised ego still fresh from the punch.
He froze when he saw Rohan lounging in the guest chair.

The chairman cleared his throat. “Aaravind, meet our largest shareholder. Rohan.”
Aaravind’s face drained of color.
Rohan smiled, cold. “Sit.”
Aaravind sat.

The chairman excused himself quietly. Door clicked shut.

Aaravind found his voice. “Why the drama, sir? You could have—”

Rohan cut him. “You didn’t want to hear who I was. Twice. You got your lesson. Now I’m revealing because I want something.”

Aaravind’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Rohan leaned forward. “You became CFO this year. No full board meeting yet. You never saw my name on the cap table.” He paused. “Let’s cut the crap. What’s the issue with Prem and Nivisha? Why should I not push charges against you for abusing company resources on a personal vendetta — and strip your title using my influence with the board?”
Aaravind’s jaw tightened. “It’s personal.”


Rohan smirked. “From now on, it’s my personal.”

Aaravind’s eyes sharpened, calculating. “Ooh… so you’re eyeing Nivisha?”

Rohan didn’t blink. “Why not? She’s good. Sharp. Useful.”

Aaravind leaned back, a twisted grin forming. “Every man who sees her eyes her. Maybe I can help. We could… share? A threesome when she breaks?”

Rohan’s voice dropped, dangerous. “You still don’t realise the threat here. I can make you disappear from this building tomorrow. Or I can make you CEO. If you cooperate.”

Aaravind’s grin faded. Interest flickered. “CEO?”

Rohan nodded. “My shares speak loudest. I influence the board. You do exactly what I say — you get the title. Maybe even chairman one day, if you’re useful.”

Aaravind weighed it. Swallowed pride.

“What do you want?”

“Every detail about her. Past. Present. Weaknesses.”

Aaravind smirked, recovering. “Sure. But I want a taste when you’re done.”

Rohan stood, towering. “I don’t share my women.”

He turned to the door.

Aaravind called quickly. “Wait. Fine. CEO title. Nothing else.”

Rohan turned back. “Sit.”

They sat.

Aaravind talked.

College. The rumors he started. The indoor room assault — his failed attempt, Prem’s rescue.

Nivi’s fire — how she deflected him, rose above gossip, dreamed big.

The elopement. The enmity. Prem’s insecurities, overprotectiveness, blind trust once earned.
Then Prakash — the near-bang attempt years ago. “I heard it from Pratap once, when he was drunk. Said Prem trusts too blindly once he lets someone in.”

Rohan’s interest peaked. “How do you know Pratap?”

“Prem came to Largebase through Pratap’s old trading connections. Pratap handles some of our subsidiary stock portfolios. Casual boast when drunk — how Prem turns blind once trust is given.”

Rohan absorbed it all.
The key.
Blind trust.

He had it already — Prem saw him as savior.

Now, the path to Nivi was clear.

As Aaravind finished, Rohan said, “Take back the legal notice? No. Keep the pressure on them. Disturb them more. I’ll tell you exactly what to do and when.”

Aaravind’s eyes glinted with ambition. “And the CEO title?”

Rohan stood. “Do everything I ask — perfectly — and it’s yours. Who knows… play long enough, you might even sit in the chairman’s chair.”

He walked out.

In the elevator down, Rohan’s mind raced.

He had the map now.

Prem’s weakness: overthinking, but blind loyalty once earned.

Nivi’s strength: buried ambition, quiet fire.

The plan crystallized.

Bring the big clients next week, as promised.

Work alongside her.
“Train” her.
Earn deeper trust.
And when the moment was right —
Take her.
Completely.

The dream from last night flashed — red kurta, her begging.
Soon, it wouldn’t be a dream.

[readersp]

Writing pretty good!!! Keep rocking boss!!! Thanks for the updates!!!

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 18 – The Missed Chance | Nivi and Rohan underestimated Prem 



The following week arrived faster than Prem expected.

His small office — now with a handful of new staff, rented desks, the hum of ambition — felt alive.
Rohan called the evening before.

“Tomorrow, 11 AM. I’m bringing the first real client. Be ready.”


Prem grinned into the phone. “We’re ready. Thank you, Rohan. This is big.”


Rohan’s voice was neutral. “Good. See you then.”
The next morning, Rohan’s Mercedes pulled up outside the modest IT park building.


He stepped out in a crisp linen shirt, sleeves rolled, no tie — understated power.


Beside him walked Mr. Ruban— owner of a mid-sized logistics firm with deep pockets and constant outsourcing needs. Rohan had chosen him deliberately: small enough to test Prem’s team, big enough to matter.


Rohan scanned the entrance as they walked in.


Prem greeted them warmly, handshakes, smiles, quick tour of the office.
Staff bustling. Whiteboards filled with flowcharts.
But no Nivi.


Rohan’s jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly.
“Where’s your wife?” he asked casually as Prem led them to the conference room.


Prem laughed, waving it off. “Nivi? She’s just a homemaker. Why bring her in? This is men’s work, right? Operations, tech, deals — she handles home and Aara. Perfect balance.”


Rohan stopped walking.
The air shifted.
Mr. Ruban glanced between them, sensing tension.
Rohan’s voice was quiet, but it cut like glass.
“I see.”


He turned to Ruban. “I’m sorry. Something urgent came up. We’ll reschedule.”


Ruban, experienced enough to read the room, nodded immediately. “Of course. Call me when convenient.”


Handshakes. Apologies.
Within minutes, Rohan was back in his car.


Engine roared as he pulled away.
Disappointment burned cold in his chest.
Not anger at Nivi.
At Prem.


The cage was tighter than he thought.
The man didn’t just protect — he buried.


Back home that evening, Prem burst through the door, excited.
“Big news! Rohan brought a client today — logistics guy, serious money. Meeting got postponed, but it’s happening tomorrow. This could be huge.”
Nivi looked up from the kitchen, stirring sambar.
She hadn’t known Rohan was coming.
Hadn’t been told anything.


Her path — the one that had briefly opened at the lunch table, the one where someone saw her mind, her worth — blurred again.
Closed by Prem. Without a word.
For the first time in years, something dark stirred in her.
She didn’t smile. Didn’t congratulate. 
Quietly, in her heart, she prayed:
Let his meeting fail tomorrow.
Let this meeting go wrong.
Just once.


Let him feel what it’s like when dreams are taken away.
That night, in his penthouse, Rohan sat with a whiskey, staring at his phone.


Prem’s words echoed.
“Just a homemaker.”
He had been so close.
One meeting. One chance to pull her in properly.
Now blocked by the same man who claimed to love her.


His hands trembled slightly as he opened a new message to Nivi.
Typed:
Need to discuss tomorrow’s pitch urgently. Can we talk?
Then deleted it.
Too forward.
Too risky.
He set the phone down.


Across the city, in their bedroom, Prem already asleep, Nivi lay awake.
The lunch. The rain. The overcoat.
The way Rohan had looked at her when she spoke.
No one — not even Prem in their best days — had looked at her like that.
Like she was capable.
Powerful.
Seen.
Her fingers hovered over her phone.


She opened messages.
Found Rohan’s name.
Typed:
Thank you again for the other day. The clients… everything.
Then paused.
Deleted.


Typed again:
Prem said the meeting was postponed. Is everything okay?


Her thumb hovered over send.
Then stopped.


She set the phone face-down.
Both of them — miles apart — stared at dark ceilings.
Wanting to reach. Afraid to.
The same thought in both minds:


Just once.
Just one message.
But neither sent it.
They slept. Uneasy. Hungry.
The chase paused.


But only for a night.

[Minki]

I think Partap is the best candidate don't mess up so many characters one time one man otherwise you can't justied for thos beautiful story you are a good writer keep it up

[readersp]

Wow.. what suspense!!! Rocking boss!!!

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 19 – The Engineered Crisis


Rohan woke before dawn, the dream of the red kurta still burning behind his eyes.
He had the map now — Prem’s blind trust, Nivi’s buried fire, Aaravind’s leash.
But Prem had slammed the door again.
“Just a homemaker.”

Rohan’s jaw set.
Fine.

He would force it open.
He picked up the phone.
First call — to the logistics client, Mr. Ruban.
“Delay the meeting. Tell Prem something urgent came up. Then say you’re open to hearing from Largebase instead — Aaravind reached out.”
Second call — to Aaravind.
“Send a fake representative to your office this afternoon. Make it look like you’re pitching hard for the logistics project. Drag it out. Answer questions poorly on purpose.”

Aaravind’s voice greedy on the other end. “And the CEO title?”

“Play this perfectly — and we’ll talk.”
By nine AM, the trap was set.

Prem called Rohan in panic an hour later.

“Rohan! Ruban just messaged — Aravind is comoing to Ruban's office this afternoon. Says Aaravind offered a better deal. What do we do?”

Rohan’s voice calm, almost bored. “Maybe he’s not interested in your pitch. Ruban doesn’t jump unless he smells less profit.”

Prem’s voice cracked. “No — he said if I’m interested, I can come to Ruban's place and present.”

Rohan let the silence stretch. “That’s a public humiliation setup. He’ll tear you apart in front of Aaravind, prove your approach is weak.”

Prem desperate now. “What should I do?”

Rohan paused. “Don’t you have a pitch team? Marketing?”

Prem laughed bitterly. “Budget’s tight — you know that.”

Rohan sighed. “Go to Ruban's office. I’ll come. With a better pitch person. Someone who convinced me once.”

Prem didn’t hesitate. “Thank you. I’m leaving now.”

Rohan hung up.

Third call — to Nivi.

Direct. No Prem.

“Nivi. It’s Rohan. Emergency. Ruban is meeting Aaravind this afternoon. Your husband’s walking into a trap. I need you for the pitch. Now.”

Silence on her end.
Then: “I’m coming.”
She asked: Did Prem wanted me?
Rohan: No, he doesnt know.. he would disapprove!
She: You know it?
Rohan: I Sensed it..
She: Then why me?
Rohan: I trust you.. .
She: Thanks.. where should i come
Rohan: I'm near your street.. 


Nivi was on cloudnine she felt it like a dream.. She thanked Rohan million times

A minute later she saw the same mercedes once she hit... the same she saw at party hall.. she looked at Rohan more than once.. she sat inside the car turned back and saw Rohan groups its printed on rear window.. 

Nivi smiled inside... she is not sure if she should open it to him now...

Aaravind’s office — afternoon.

The conference room was already in session.

Aaravind sat at the head, smug, beside a “representative” from his team — actually a junior briefed to fumble answers.
Venkat listened, asking sharp questions.

The junior stumbled — vague on scalability, weak on AI integration.
Prem arrived alone first, sweating, restless in his seat, eyes darting to the door.

Then the Mercedes pulled up outside.
Prem saw it through the glass — heart sinking.
Driver opened the back door.
Rohan stepped out.

Passenger door — Nivi.

In a deep green saree, hair tied neatly, laptop bag in hand.

Prem’s stomach dropped.

What is she doing here?
They entered.

Prem stood. “Nivi? What—”
Rohan cut in smoothly. “Where’s the pitch person?” Prem asked, confused.
Rohan looked at Nivi. “She’s right in front of you.”

Prem laughed nervously. “Don’t play, Rohan.”

Rohan’s voice steel. “I’m not. She convinced me once. 
I believe in her one hundred percent. If anyone can shut Aaravind down today, it’s her.” 

He glanced at Aaravind’s smug face. “And it’ll sting more coming from her.”

Aaravind’s smirk faltered.
Ruban raised an eyebrow, interested.

Prem opened his mouth — then closed it.
He looked at Nivi.

She met his eyes — steady, fierce.
Ready.

Ruban spoke. “Rohan already showed me your product earlier — answers weren’t convincing. Let’s try this. Three questions. If I like what I hear, the project is yours. If not — Aaravind’s.”

First question: AI market shifts in the next two years.
Nivi answered — clear, data-backed, forward-thinking.
Second: Feasibility at scale, risk mitigation.
She broke it down — practical, confident, addressing pain points Ruban had raised earlier.
Third: Cost-benefit over in-house.
She painted the story — certainty, growth, partnership.
Ruban leaned back.
Smiled.
“Prem Infinity Solutions it is.”

Aaravind’s face — thunder.
Prem — stunned silent.
Rohan — quiet satisfaction. He know even if she answered wrong the project will be prem's but it was a test for her talent and she passed it. 

Rohan and Ruban shared a knowing smile.. 

As they walked out, Ruban shaking Nivi’s hand first.
Outside, Prem approached Rohan, voice thick.

“Thank you. Really.”
Rohan looked past him to Nivi, then back.
“Thank your wife.”
He put a hand on Prem’s shoulder — firm, pulled him aside.

“I don’t know what you think she is. But she’s your best asset. Use her. You don’t even have to pay her. She’s interested. Utilise that talent.”

Prem nodded slowly. “Yeah… let’s give it a try.” Hesitated. “But—”

Rohan cut him. “I’ll bring more clients. Bigger ones.”

Prem’s eyes lit.
“On one condition.”

Prem: “Anything.”
Rohan’s voice low, final.
“Nivi must be in the room for all future meetings.”

Prem glanced at Nivi standing a distance away — green saree catching the light, head high.
He swallowed.
Reluctantly.
“Yes.”

Rohan released his shoulder.
Smiled.

The cage door cracked wider.
And Rohan now held the key.

[heygiwriter]

I think Partap is the best candidate don't mess up so many characters one time one man otherwise you can't justied for thos beautiful story you are a good writer keep it up

Pratap is a good man.. I just included his character to say there are few harmless good men too... He may have ideas but he is controlled or suppressed to be called good man

[heygiwriter]

Writing pretty good!!! Keep rocking boss!!! Thanks for the updates!!!

Thank you bosss

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 20 – The Drive Home (Prem’s POV)


Prem gripped the steering wheel of their old Swift, the engine humming steadily as they left Ruban’s place..
His mind was still reeling.
The conference room. Ruban’s questions. Aaravind’s smug face turning to stone.


And Nivi.
His Nivi.
Answering like she’d been doing this for years. Calm. Sharp. Brilliant.


He glanced at her in the passenger seat.


She was looking out the window, a small smile playing on her lips — the kind he hadn’t seen in a long time. Not since college, maybe. When she used to talk about starting her own company, eyes bright with plans.


She looked… happy.
Really happy.
Speaking with Ruban. With Rohan.


He felt a strange mix in his chest — pride, yes, but something else too.
Guilt?


He had restricted her all these years. For safety. For Aara. For the family.


Men like Aaravind, Prakash, Rakesh — they were out there.
He had seen what they could do.
But today…


Working in the office — with him, with staff around — was that really dangerous?
Safer than home alone, even.


Why was he always overthinking?
The Mercedes pulling away caught his eye in the rear-view mirror.
Rohan’s car.


Shining, expensive, effortless.
Prem blinked.


“That car… it’s Rohan’s?”


Nivi turned, following his gaze. “Yes.”


Prem shook his head slowly. “How does he have that kind of money? He seemed so… normal. Simple shirt, no show-off. His portfolio didn’t look that flashy either. I thought he just had networks.”


Nivi took a deep breath, her voice soft but sure.


“He has focus, Prem. That’s how.”
Prem glanced at her.


She continued, eyes on the road ahead. “Ever since we met him, he’s been on point. Never distracted. Never wasted time on too many stories. He sees business. Possibilities. Nothing else.”


She smiled faintly. “If we focus like that… one day you might drive a Lamborghini. And I’ll take a Ferrari.”


They both laughed — light, real.


Prem felt the tension ease.
Yes.


Rohan never crossed a line. Never tried to be too friendly. Practical. Professional.


That’s why the contacts were gold.
He was the real deal.


Prem reached over, squeezed her hand.
“You were brilliant today, Nivi.”


She looked at him, eyes warm. “Are you happy with my performance?”
He started to say more, but the words caught.
He nodded instead. “I’m happy.”


Then, quieter: “Rohan wants you in all future client meetings. If we get busy — and at this rate, we will — I’ll be deep in operations. Can you manage the pitch side?”


Nivi’s smile grew — genuine, bright.


“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.”


She leaned over, kissed his cheek. “Thank you. And thank Rohan.”


Home wasn’t far now.


As they pulled into the gate, Nivi’s phone was already in her hand.
She typed quickly.
Thanks for today.
Sent.
To Rohan.


Across the city, in his penthouse, Rohan’s phone lit up.
He read the message.Smiled.
Didn’t reply. Not yet.
He knew when to react.
When not to.
Calm. Cool.


Planning the next move. The clients were coming.
The meetings would be private. Often. And Nivi would be there.
Every time.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 21 – Lines Drawn, Trust Earned

The air was different — charged, but not tense.

Prem spoke first.

“We need to draw lines, Nivi. House and office.”
Nivi nodded, waiting.

“You handle the pitches. You’re brilliant at it. But Aara comes home by 4. You must be back by 6 PM latest — homework, dinner, bedtime.”
Nivi’s eyes flickered, but she agreed. “Okay.”

“By 10:30 Am, you need to be at office.”
She smiled faintly. “Understood.”

Prem leaned forward. “Once the business grows — really grows — I’ll hire professional marketing people. Train them. Then you can step back if you want. Lessen the burden. You’ll have more time for Aara… and us.”

Nivi looked at him for a long moment.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
But inside, something stirred.
Step back?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

The following week, it began.
Rohan brought one client every week — carefully chosen, mid-to-large, hungry for outsourcing.
Nivi shone in every meeting.

Her pitches were stories — not slides.
Clients leaned in.
Signed.

Prem’s small office grew louder — more staff, more phones ringing, more revenue.
Nivi became the face of the front end.

Prem handled the back — delivery, operations, scripts.
After one particularly big win, Rohan turned to her in the conference room.

“There’s a new prospect. Needs a personal touch. Dinner meeting tomorrow night?”
Nivi hesitated.

Prem, in the room, handed her the car keys without missing a beat.
“Go. You’ll close it.”

Then, smoothly, he turned to Rohan.
“Stay back a minute? Need your thoughts on scaling the team.”

Rohan sat.
He understood.
Trust not fully earned yet.
Prem still guarding.
Rohan smiled inwardly.
Fine.

He had time.
That night, he texted Aaravind.

Move on Inforexat Pvt Ltd. Cause a scene. Nivi will be there for the pitch.
Aaravind replied instantly: Done.

The next day — thirty minutes into Nivi’s solo pitch at Inforexat — trouble.
Fake technical glitch, planted by Aaravind’s “representative.”

Client frustrated.
Nivi called Prem, voice calm but urgent.

Prem panicked — critical script release that day.
He couldn’t leave.

“Rohan’s nearby,” he said. “I’ll send him.”
Rohan arrived.

Fixed it — quietly, efficiently.
Client impressed.
Deal closed.

From then on, for almost a month, it became pattern.
Every client meet.
Every escalation.
Rohan accompanied Nivi.

Prem too busy with operations to join.
“Safer anyway,” Prem told himself.

Rohan and Nivi — car rides, conference rooms, coffee breaks between meetings.
Always professional.
Never personal.

But the time together grew.
They talked shop — market trends, client psychology, scaling dreams.

Rohan listened when she spoke about old college ideas.
Never pushed.
Never flirted overtly.
Just… present.
Attentive.

He loved her company more than the thought of taking her to bed.
For now.

The trust bloomed.
Slowly.

One evening, after a late meeting in Rohan’s mall office, rain threatening again.
Nivi gathered her laptop.

“Thank you for coming today. Again.”
Rohan looked up from his desk.

“You don’t need to thank me every time.”
She smiled — small, genuine.
“I know. But I mean it.”

He held her gaze.
“You’re wasted on just pitches, Nivi.”
She paused at the door.
“What do you mean?”
He leaned back.
“You could run the whole show. One day.”
She laughed softly.
“One day.”
She left.

Rohan watched her go.
The obsession deepened.
Not just her body.

Her mind.
Her fire.
The way she was waking up.

He could wait.
The bed would come.
When she was ready to burn.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 22 – The Breaking Point



The weeks blurred into a rhythm Nivi had never known.
Client meetings. Pitches. Wins.
Rohan brought one big fish every week — carefully selected, high-value.
Nivi closed them all.


Her confidence grew with each handshake, each signed contract.
One afternoon, after sealing a particularly large deal in a quiet hotel conference room overlooking the city, Rohan lingered as the client left.
He turned to her, casual.


“Why not start your own marketing agency?”
Nivi froze, laptop half-closed.
“What?”


Rohan leaned against the table, arms crossed.
“You manage it. We go for the big pitches together. Partners. 50–50 ownership.”
Her breath caught.


The old dream — college talks, late-night sketches of logos and plans — flooded back.
Eyes glowing, she whispered, “I… I’ve always wanted…”
Then hesitation. “Prem…”


Rohan nodded, reading her. “I know. He may not approve. That’s why I said partnership firm. Call it namesake. We split revenue quietly. He’ll think it’s just more work for Prem Infinity. He’ll be in — indirectly.”


Nivi shook her head slowly. “You don’t know him.”
Rohan’s voice lowered. “I know he’s insecure. Overprotective. But don’t waste your talent, Nivi. You dreamed this once.”


The words hung heavy.
The man I loved… never understood.
She looked away, throat tight.


Rohan took a breath. “If you stand in everyone’s shoes, every vision feels right to them. Don’t overthink. Let’s do it.”
He paused.


“We pitch some companies on our own. Land deals. Allocate smaller clients to other firms, take our share. Clean. Profitable.”


Nivi’s eyes glowed brighter.
“I’m ready to jump in.”
Then softer: “But I’m scared of Prem.”
Rohan met her gaze. “You loved him enough to marry him against the world. He’ll understand. Eventually.”
She didn’t answer.


But the seed was planted.


That night at dinner, Nivi tested the water.
Casual.


“Rohan had this idea today… what if I partnered with him on the marketing side? Just time, no money. Separate agency.”
Prem’s fork paused.


“You’re already busy with Prem Infinity. That’s enough.” A small laugh. “Don’t think you’re some super-smart businesswoman now.”
The words stung — sharp, deliberate.


He said it lightly, teasing. But Nivi heard the edge.
Control. She smiled tightly. Silence.
Later, in bed, Prem asleep, Nivi stared at the ceiling.
For the first time, she wanted to stand against him.
Just once.
She picked up her phone.
Texted Rohan.
He said no. Shot it down.
Rohan’s reply came fast.
That’s why I said don’t reveal yet. We’ll take care of it. Trust me.
She set the phone down.
Panicked.
Excited.


Rohan unleashed his plan immediate morning...… An unexpected plan to keep them in closer orbit and that makes Prem powerless and has to agree with what he say…


Next Evening.

The knock came sharp at 9 PM.
Prem opened cautiously.
Two men in security officer khaki, one holding papers.
“Court eviction notice. Vacate immediately.”


Prem’s eyes narrowed. “At night? Show me your IDs. This is illegal — I’m calling the station right now.”


He pulled out his phone, dialed a station number.
Aaravind stepped from the shadows, grinning, goons behind him..


One “officer” flashed a badge quickly. “Emergency execution. Landlord filed.”
Prem: “Bullshit. Let me verify—”


Aaravind laughed. “Call whoever. These officers are on special duty tonight… because I paid them extra. Money talks faster than your complaints, Prem.”


The goons moved forward, starting to grab boxes.
Nivi clutched Aara, eyes wide.


Prem tried the call again — line engaged, or snatched briefly.
Realisation hit. Bought.
Corrupt. Outmatched.


“You think I’ll watch calmly while you snatch all my clients?” Aaravind’s voice was venom, low and furious.
Prem: you are crossing the limit.. I can sue you in court …


Aravind: You move legally.. I will move the company's legal notice.. And demand the 10 cr.. I planned it carefully to humiliate you.. The landlord got the cash and gave me instant registration in the morning… Move out now.. 


His voice shook with rage, but he saw Aara scared, Nivi pale.
He couldn’t risk violence. He dialed the only number left.
Rohan.
…
Rohan arrived twenty minutes later.
Stepped out of the Mercedes, surveyed the scene.
To Aaravind: “You paid these men? How much?”
Aaravind smug. “Enough.”
Rohan nodded slowly. “I’ll remember that.”


Then to Prem, voice low: “No point tonight. Take what you need. Come with me.”
He lifted sleeping Aara gently from Nivi’s arms.
The goons hesitated — something in Rohan’s calm made them pause.
Aaravind snarled but didn’t stop them.
Rohan’s men arrived minutes later — real professionals — began packing efficiently.
Nivi, Aara followed Rohan to the cars.
Prem drove the swift..
As they drove away, Nivi looked back at their home — lights blazing, Aaravind’s silhouette in the doorway.
Then at Rohan — steady, in control.
Safe.
For the first time in years, truly safe.
But not at home.
In his world.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 23 – The Luxury Trap



The Mercedes glided into the underground parking of a towering glass building in the heart of Chennai’s most exclusive neighbourhood.
Prem’s Swift followed behind, looking small and ordinary next to it.
Rohan led them to the private elevator — biometric scan, soft chime, direct to the penthouse floor.

The doors opened into the apartment.
Prem stopped dead.
Nivi’s breath caught.
Aara’s eyes went wide.
It wasn’t an apartment.
It was a palace in the sky.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city lights and distant sea. Marble floors that gleamed under recessed lighting. Open-plan living with sleek Italian furniture, art on the walls that looked like they belonged in galleries. A kitchen bigger than their old house. Infinity pool on the terrace visible through sliding glass.

No one would say no to this place.
Rich. Mighty. Untouchable.
Prem turned to Rohan, voice low. “Who are you, actually?”

Rohan smiled, casual, pouring water from a crystal jug.

“At the rate your company is performing, three years down the line you’ll buy bigger than this.” He handed glasses to Prem and Nivi. “I’ve received twenty lakhs in the last two months just from your company. Why can’t it grow more with my expertise across twenty-plus companies?”

Prem blinked, processing.

Nivi looked around, silent, but her eyes took in every detail.
Rohan showed them the guest wing — two large bedrooms connected by a sitting area, attached baths, walk-in closets already stocked with fresh linens.

Aara’s room had toys waiting — someone had prepared.
“Your space,” Rohan said simply. “Make it home.”

He bid good night and disappeared into the master wing.
The door closed softly behind him.

Next morning, over breakfast on the terrace — fresh fruits, idlis prepared by the silent house staff — Prem spoke first.
“I’ll start looking for a house today. Rental first.”
Rohan sipped his coffee, gazing at the sea.

“Don’t look for rental. Buy one. Don’t shift things twice. Let’s get you a proper house in a month. Until then, stay here.”
You are running a company now that deals business in crores and you don’t want to own a house. Ridiculous.. Plus assets can be useful in business for loans.. 

He smiled, easy. “I’m all alone anyway. My wife’s in Kerala with the kids.”
Prem smiled back, grateful. “Thank you. Again.”

Rohan set his cup down.
Then, casual as weather talk:
“I’m starting a new company. Marketing focused. It would be great if Nivi came in as partner. Her face is the star in the market now. I’ll fund 50%. What do you say?”

Prem paused.

Rohan continued smoothly. “Two entities — tax efficient. If you build an in-house marketing team, you pay full taxes, salaries. This way, money flows outside but stays ours. My auditor suggested it.”
Prem listened carefully.

Rohan stood. “I’ll visit your office this afternoon. Some outside work first.”
He handed spare keycards to both Prem and Nivi.
“Use the place as yours.”
Then left.

In the car, after dropping Aara at college, Prem driving, Nivi beside him.
He spoke first.
“Let’s give it a try. The new marketing startup.”
Nivi looked at him.
No big smile.
She knew.
It wasn’t Prem deciding. It was necessity. Rohan had made it inevitable.
But still. Her dream. Coming true.

That night, in their guest bedroom — doors to Rohan’s wing just down the hall — Nivi’s phone lit up.
Message from Rohan.

Hope all went the way we wanted. Bangalore next week — one night stay, two meetings. Get ready. When we return, we’ll have a new company in our name.
Nivi read it twice.
Smiled in the dark.
The kind of smile she hadn’t worn in years.
The dream wasn’t just coming true. It was hers now. And his.