Adultery Mirna – Vikram's Innocent Hotwife [COMPLETED]

[heygiwriter]

This is super excited man

One on one face to face challenge who wins this time

Love or lust

Waiting
In this situation Vikram is powerful but Bharat is super powerful on him right now

The game is still on too early to take sides right?

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 131 – Day 4: Priya's advice and Date Proposal


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Morning

The fourth day of the challenge began early. Vikram left for Bangalore before sunrise — same routine, same quiet departure. Mirnaa watched the car disappear down the road from the balcony, a small wave as always. She had grown used to his absences this week. She told herself it was work. She told herself it didn’t matter.

Bharath appeared in the kitchen doorway while she prepared breakfast — pongal, coconut chutney, coffee. His bandage looked less swollen today, but he still cradled his hand.

Mirnaa looked at him and said:
“Wait in the bedroom. I will change the bandage now after finishing the cooking.”

Bharath nodded and left. She finished the pongal, set the table, then went to his room with the first-aid box.

He was sitting on the bed, sleeve rolled up. She sat beside him, unwrapped the old bandage carefully. The wound was healing — less red, stitches holding. Bharath winced once when she cleaned it.

“You’re still taking care of me,” he said softly. “I feel guilty.”
Mirnaa smiled.

“You’re hurt. That’s all. Who else will take care of you then?”
Bharath looked at her — eyes soft, grateful.

“No one. Just you.”

She finished the new bandage. He flexed his fingers carefully.
“Thank you.”

They had breakfast together at the table. Quiet. Comfortable. He kept stealing glances at her while she ate.
“Let’s go to the hospital together again" 

Mirnaa nodded.
“Okay.”


On the Drive to the Hospital


Mirnaa drove, the Thar humming along the coastal road with the windows cracked just enough to let the salt air mix with the faint scent of her jasmine perfume. Bharath sat beside her, good hand resting casually on his knee, the bandaged one propped carefully against the door. The Goa playlist was already playing from yesterday — they hadn't bothered to change it. The music felt like an extension of them now, looping back to the laughter and ease they’d rediscovered in the car the day before.

Bharath turned the volume up a little, grinning when the first song hit the chorus — the same upbeat track they’d belted out yesterday.
“Day two of our car concert,” he said, voice teasing. “You ready to defend your terrible high notes again?”

Mirnaa shot him a mock glare, but her lips were already twitching.

“My high notes are iconic. You’re just jealous you can’t reach them.”

He laughed — loud, genuine — and immediately joined in, exaggerating his own off-key wail on the next line. Mirnaa cracked, laughter bubbling out as she tried (and failed) to keep a straight face while driving. She reached over and swatted his good arm lightly.

“Stop! I’m going to crash because of you!”

“Then crash. We’ll blame the music,” he said, still grinning. “Or better — we’ll blame yesterday’s ‘almost crash’ on me driving like a maniac. You screamed louder than the horn.”

Mirnaa’s cheeks flushed with remembered embarrassment and amusement.
“I did not scream. I yelped. There’s a difference.”

“Yelp, scream, same thing when it’s you grabbing the dashboard like it owes you money.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. The car felt smaller, warmer, the space between them shrinking with every shared laugh. Bharath leaned his head back against the seat, watching her profile as she drove.

“You know what I missed most about yesterday?” he said, quieter now, tone shifting to something softer, more intimate. “Not the swerves. Not even the music. It was just… hearing you laugh like that. Real laugh. Not the polite one you give patients. The one where your eyes crinkle and you forget to be careful.”

Mirnaa’s fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. She kept her eyes on the road, but her voice came out softer.
“I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “I noticed.”

A comfortable silence settled — not awkward, just full. The song changed to a slower one, the kind they used to sway to on the beach. Bharath hummed along for a few bars, then glanced sideways at her.

“Remember when we used to make up stupid lyrics to this song? You were terrible at rhyming.”
Mirnaa laughed again — quick, surprised.

“I was creative. You just lacked imagination.”
“Creative is one word for it,” he teased. “I still remember your line about the moon being ‘a big shiny spoon’. Poetic.”
She swatted his arm again — lighter this time, playful.

“Shut up. You laughed harder than anyone.”

“Because it was you,” he said, voice dropping just enough to carry weight

. “Everything was funnier when it came from you.”


Mirnaa’s smile softened. She didn’t reply right away, but she didn’t change the station either. 
The music kept playing. 
The road kept unfolding. 

The space between them kept shrinking — not with touch, but with shared memory, shared laughter, shared ease. By the time they reached the hospital gate, the car felt like their own little world again.



At the Hospital – Lunch Break 


The morning had passed in a gentle rhythm: Bharath settled in the staff room with a magazine, occasionally looking up to catch Mirnaa’s eye as she moved between patients with her usual calm efficiency. He didn’t interrupt her work; he just existed nearby, smiling softly whenever their gazes met. By lunch, the three of them ended up together in the canteen — the same small table near the window they’d claimed the day before.


Priya arrived with her tiffin box, plopped down opposite them, and immediately lit up with that mischievous grin Mirnaa knew too well.

“So Bharath is officially Mirnaa’s cop lover now?” Priya said, eyes sparkling as she unpacked her food. “Look at him — injured, brooding, all mysterious. So sexy.”

Mirnaa’s cheeks flushed hot and instant.
“Priya!”

Priya laughed, waving her hand dismissively.

“What? I’m just saying the obvious. If Vikram is always off in Bangalore doing whatever mysterious work he does, you’ve got a perfectly good backup sitting right here.”

Bharath let out a low, amused chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with his good hand like he was shy — but his eyes were dancing.
Before Mirnaa could protest again, Bharath stood slowly.

“I’ll go wash my hand,” he said, lifting his bandaged one slightly. “Be right back.”


He walked away toward the restroom corridor, leaving Mirnaa and Priya alone for a moment.

Priya leaned in immediately, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her tone casual and girly — like they were sharing a secret over coffee.


“Okay, listen. Bharath is hot. Injured-hero vibe, sweet eyes, that protective thing he does? Come on, Mirnaa. You’ve been so tense lately. Vikram’s always gone, you’re basically alone. Why not let yourself have a little fun? Just once. Casual. No strings. Bharath isn’t going to tell anyone. He’s crazy about you — he’ll keep it secret. Explore a little, baby. It’s normal. People do it all the time when things get boring at home. Doesn’t mean you love Vikram less. It just means you’re alive.”

Mirnaa’s eyes widened. She shook her head quickly.
“No, Priya. No way. That’s… that’s cheating.”

Priya tilted her head, expression softening but still playful and you too already dated right? alone for a week together in Goa

“Yes we dated but. 

Priya grabbed  ... Is it really cheating if it’s just physical? Just a little excitement? Vikram’s not here. He’s not giving you attention. 
Bharath is. And he’s not asking for forever — he’s just… here. Offering. You deserve to feel wanted. Desired. Not just loved from a distance.”


Mirnaa swallowed, voice lower.
“It’s illegal. Morally. I’m married.”

Wait did bharath asked you t o speak to me like that
Priya: no darling im hurt when vikram openly alleged something bharath didnt do..
i felt he is doubting your character, doubting you and you dont deserve
and dont i know Bhrath loves you and ready to give you anything.
Just give  him something back he deserve and enjoy yourself
Im suggesting you as a good friend.

Mirnaa still thinks.. her gaurd keeps relaxing

A minute later
Priya shrugged lightly, tone still easy, like they were discussing weekend plans.
“Illegal? Morally? Come on. Half the world has side fun and still goes home to their spouse. 
It’s not like you’re leaving Vikram. It’s just… a moment. A spark. Bharath looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world.
hen was the last time Vikram looked at you like that?”

Mirnaa looked down at her plate. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her pallu.
“I’m not sure…”

Priya reached over and gently squeezed her hand.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to be sure right now. Just know it’s normal. It’s human. If you ever feel like you want to feel alive again — even just once — Bharath is right here. And he’ll keep it between you two. No drama. No guilt trips. Just fun.”

How do you know bharath will keep safe
Priya said no two person can be idle in a distance place like goa, somthing must have happened but he says you two just dated, is that not enough he is a person who will keep secrets

Mirnaa’s heart was pounding. She opened her mouth to protest again, but the words caught. 

Priya’s tone was so casual, so light — like it really was no big deal. Like it happened every day. Like it wouldn’t break anything.


Before she could answer, Bharath returned, sliding back into his seat with a small smile.
“Miss me?”

Priya grinned wide.
“Just girl talk.”

Bharath chuckled, eyes flicking to Mirnaa.
“Hope it was good talk.”
Priya winked at Mirnaa.

“Oh, it was very good.”

The rest of lunch passed with lighter chatter — hospital gossip, patient stories — but the air had changed. Mirnaa kept stealing glances at Bharath, at the way he looked at her, at the way Priya’s words kept echoing in her head.

Normal. Casual. Harmless. Just fun.
No one has to know.

Before Leaving the Hospital

As they gathered their things to leave, Bharath stepped aside to “check something on his phone.” He quickly moved towards priya who was standing aside. 

“Thanks for that. thanks for speaking to her for me

Priya said: You safeguarded my secret. I’m just trying to help you guys connect ;)”

He said thanks

Priya: 
“It’s okay… 100%. You deserve her. Mirnaa doesn’t deserve a husband who doubts her and stays insecure.
 At least let her have some solace in you and enjoy her youth with you.”

Bharath smiled — small, satisfied. He said back
“Yes. She needs someone who sees her, not someone who suspects her.”

Priya:
“Exactly. I’ve got your back. Keep making her smile.”

He said see mirnaa might suspect us, let me move now bye..
She said bye. Take care of her.

Another trick silently executed — polluting Mirnaa’s mind through Priya, planting the seed that a little “solace” was not only understandable, but deserved.
Mirnaa, standing a few steps away, didn’t see the exchange. 
But she felt the shift in the air — something warm and dangerous settling in her chest.


On the Way Back


The Thar hummed along the coastal road, windows cracked to let in the late-afternoon breeze. The Goa playlist had ended sometime during lunch, and now the car was quiet except for the soft rush of air and the occasional honk from passing vehicles. Mirnaa kept her eyes on the road, but her fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel — a small, restless rhythm.


After a long silence, she spoke, voice low.

“See how Priya talks to us.”



Bharath turned his head slightly, studying her profile.

“She’s just being Priya. Playful. Honest.”



Mirnaa’s lips pressed together for a second.



“She thinks we’re… I don’t know. Having an affair. Or about to.”



Bharath let out a small breath of a laugh — not mocking, just soft.

“She doesn’t know we already had sex.”



Mirnaa’s grip tightened on the wheel. She didn’t look at him.

“Thanks for not telling her that day.”



“Why should we?” Bharath said gently. “It’s our secret. Our privacy. Even if we had sex again, no need to inform her.”


The phrase “sex again” landed like a small stone in still water. Mirnaa’s breath caught. Will there be one more? The thought came unbidden, sharp and unwelcome. No possibility. She shook her head slightly, as if to dislodge it.

Mirna recalls what priya tells to her when he is away.. she doesnt want to tell what priya told she turned on music system lets sing she invited to change the vibe.. but deep inside the injected thought winning her

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 131 - Continued 

Chennai 

The house had settled into its evening hush. Dinner dishes were washed, lights dimmed in the living room, the distant sound of waves the only thing breaking the quiet. Mirnaa walked down the hallway after changing into her nightgown — soft cotton, pale blue, the one she always wore when she wanted to feel calm. She paused outside Bharath’s door, hand hovering over the knob. For a second she almost turned back to her own bedroom. But something — guilt, curiosity, or the lingering echo of Priya’s words — made her push the door open instead.

Bharath was already lying on the bed, propped against pillows, the bedside lamp casting a warm amber glow across his face. He looked up when she entered, surprise softening into a small, grateful smile.'

“You came.”
Mirnaa closed the door behind her quietly. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that her knee brushed the blanket.
“Come,” she said softly. “Sleep on my lap.”

Bharath shifted carefully, wincing once as he moved his bandaged hand. He lay down sideways, head resting gently on her thigh. The weight was light, familiar. Mirnaa’s fingers found their way to his hair — slow, gentle strokes, combing through the strands with absent tenderness. No words at first. Just the rhythm of her breathing, the faint rustle of fabric, the warmth of his scalp under her palm.

The silence stretched — comfortable, heavy with unspoken things. Then Bharath spoke, voice low, looking up into her eyes.

“Mirnaa… I have only one wish now.”
She kept stroking, fingers steady.
“What?”

“I will go out of this home with the best memories. I want to forget the Vikram insecurity and claim on me. I want to ensure he too sends me off with a good note.”

Mirnaa nodded slowly.
“He will. He’ll send you off in good mood.”

Bharath’s gaze didn’t waver.
“No. I want something he whole-heartedly did before our Goa days.”

Mirnaa’s hand paused for half a second.
“I’m not sure. What do you mean by that?”

He took a slow breath, eyes searching hers.
“Shall we date again? Just on the last day? Shall we? I will ask Vikram’s permission.”

Mirnaa looked down at him, fingers still tangled in his hair.
“It’s better we stop. He won’t permit.”
Bharath’s voice stayed gentle, almost pleading.

“I just want to know if you are willing. I can speak with him.”

Mirnaa paused. Her thumb brushed lightly against his temple — an unconscious, soothing gesture.
“More than willing,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to send you off good… with good memories you always wanted. At first it was me who misunderstood you in Goa and caused a dent. Now Vikram… he understands you better but I think he is jealous and insecure like you say, so he spouts lies.”

Bharath’s eyes softened. He knew she was in the game now — fully, quietly.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Let me open up to him when the right time comes.”
A small silence. Then he asked, voice even softer:
“Will you give me your permission when he says yes?”

Mirnaa looked at him — really looked. The lamp light caught the earnestness in his eyes, the faint vulnerability he let show only to her.
“Yes,” she said.

Bharath exhaled, a sound almost like relief. Slowly, carefully, he lifted his good hand and slid it behind her neck. He tugged gently, drawing her head down toward his.

Their faces were close — breath mingling. He leaned up the small distance. His lips brushed toward hers.
Mirnaa turned her head at the last second.

The kiss landed on his cheek — soft, warm, lingering a heartbeat longer than it should have.
Bharath closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it. When he opened them again, his voice was husky, charged.
“I’m charged, Mirnaa… I’m leaving with good memories with you. A date…”

He let his hand fall back to the bed. She stayed bent over him for another second, cheek still close to his, heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. Then she straightened slowly, fingers slipping from his hair.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.

She stood. Walked to the door.
Bharath watched her go, the small satisfied smile returning once the door clicked shut.




Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Night


The house was quiet when Vikram returned from Bangalore. The flight had been short, the drive back shorter, but the weight of the day clung to him like damp air. Mirnaa had already gone to bed — or at least the bedroom light was off. He stood in the hallway for a moment, listening. No sound from her room. No sound from Bharath’s. Just the low, steady pulse of the sea outside.
He excused himself anyway — a quiet murmur to the empty air about “work” — and slipped down the corridor to the false wall near their bedroom. A light press on the hidden panel, a soft click, and the door slid open. The secret room was small, soundproof, lit only by the cold blue glow of six monitors mounted on the wall. Each screen showed a different angle of the house: living room, kitchen, hallway, balcony, Mirnaa’s bedroom (empty now), and Bharath’s guest room.

Vikram closed the door behind him. The lock engaged with a faint magnetic snap. He sank into the leather chair, exhaling slowly. The monitors were already on — motion-activated, always recording. He leaned forward, fingers moving across the keyboard.
He pulled up today’s timeline. Fast-forwarded through the hours.

First, the morning: Mirnaa changing Bharath’s bandage, their hands brushing, her gentle “Who else will take care of you then?” The way Bharath’s eyes lingered on her face.


Night in the guest room: Mirnaa sitting on the bed, Bharath’s head on her lap, her fingers combing through his hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. The silence between them thick with warmth. Then Bharath’s low voice: the date proposal. Mirnaa’s hesitation. Her “More than willing.” The moment he drew her head down — the almost-kiss, her turning at the last second, his lips landing on her cheek instead. The way she stayed bent over him for a heartbeat longer than necessary before straightening.

Vikram leaned back in the chair. His fingers drummed once on the armrest.

He knew Bharath would definitely ask for the date — another indecent proposal, another step deeper into Mirnaa’s guilt and nostalgia.
But Vikram very well knew he was still in control.

The documents from Bangalore were arriving tomorrow — the final pieces of Manya’s truth, the leverage that would flip her completely. Bharath could play his games, whisper his sweet poison, pull Mirnaa closer inch by inch. Let him. Every smile she gave him, every moment she defended him, every time she said “more than willing” 

He knows how to flip it.. 

Vikram’s eyes stayed on the frozen frame of Mirnaa’s cheek against Bharath’s lips.

He smiled — small, cold, certain.
“Soon,” he murmured to the empty room, “you’ll see everything.”

He reached forward. 
Then he shut the monitors down one by one.
The room went dark.


4th Day in Bangalore - Manya and Vikram.

Bangalore – Vikram’s Office – Same Day


Manya was confused. She came to Vikram’s cabin, hesitation in her step.
“Do you have anything to tell me?”
Vikram looked up from his desk.

“Just marry him.”
Manya still said:
“No.”

Vikram said:
“I’m waiting for some documents. It will arrive tomorrow. Once I get all in hand, I will tell you the rest of the details.”

Manya was not sure what else Bharath did. She wanted to beat him, but she was also torn — realizing power games.
She left without another word.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 132 – Day 5: The Turning Point

Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Morning

Mirnaa woke earlier than usual. The house was still dark, the sea outside a low murmur. She turned over, expecting the bed to be empty — Vikram always left for Bangalore before dawn these days. But he was still there. Sleeping. Deeply. His face relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen in weeks, one arm flung across the pillow, breathing slow and even.

She stared at him for a long moment. Surprised. Almost relieved. 
She slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on her robe, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Bharath was already there — standing by the counter, pouring coffee into two tumblers with his good hand.  He looked up when she entered.

“Good morning, my love.”
The words landed softly, but they hit her like a gentle shock. She froze in the doorway.
“What… what mood is this?”

Bharath smiled — small, tender.
“I love you.”

Mirnaa dropped her eyes to the floor. Her fingers tightened on the edge of her robe.
He stepped closer, voice gentle.

“Today the doctor said we can remove the remaining bandage completely. Let’s go for that.”
She nodded slowly.
“Okay.”

Then he added:
“Then I will speak with Vikram.”
Mirnaa’s head snapped up.

“See… I don’t know why I said okay. But after everything that happened — the insecure part — we should not escalate it.”
Bharath’s expression softened further.
“Don’t worry about that. I will speak with Vikram.”

She looked at him — searching.
“Do something. But don’t hurt each other.”

She turned and went to bathe. Bharath watched her go, the small satisfied smile returning.

Kitchen – Minutes Later

Vikram came downstairs, hair still damp from a quick shower, shirt sleeves rolled up. Bharath was standing there — waiting.
“Hey, Vikram,” Bharath said casually.

Vikram walked over. Stopped a few feet away.
Bharath smirked.

“Hope you saw how Mirnaa’s cheek got kissed by me. And I was sleeping on her lap. I bet you watched it. After that kiss… it’s like I already won. Maybe you won’t ever have access to her body. I’m gonna rule her.”

Vikram laughed — low, calm, dangerous.
“You remember that cricket match? Opposite team batsman hits a four, celebrates on the field. Team needs two more runs from two balls. He’s the last batsman. Celebrates early. Next ball — bowled out.”

Bharath’s smirk faltered slightly.
Vikram stepped closer.

“I know exactly what tricks you’re using. You can kiss her, hold her, even get her almost there. But she’ll stop you at the last second. Her guilt will rise up and pull her away. The act will stay incomplete. I trust her — and my love for her — more than you trust your games. The challenge is still on.”

Bharath’s eyes narrowed.

“Guilt? Love?” He laughed, short and sharp. “Stupid.”
“Fine. Challenge. Watch how she gives herself to me fully on the 7th night. She’ll wake up in my arms with no regrets — and you’ll know you lost her.”

Vikram laughed again.

“Challenge. I’m telling you again — hear carefully. Even if you get her on the bed, she won’t let it finish. She’ll leave that bed and walk straight back to me. I know her. You don’t.”

Bharath leaned in.
“We’ll see. Get ready on the 8th day to leave the house and surrender her to me.”

Vikram’s smile was cold.
“Keep dreaming.”

They departed.

Bangalore – Vikram’s Office – Same Day

Manya walked into Vikram’s cabin, face pale, eyes shadowed. The documents had arrived that morning — thick folders, scanned voice notes, bank records, emails. Everything laid out in cold, chronological order.

She sat across from him without being asked.
Vikram opened the first file.

“After you and your husband got married, Bharath didn’t stop. He used every method to break him. Silently. Systematically.”
He slid the first page across.

Incident one — the earliest: 

Three months after the wedding, your husband was promoted to senior accountant. Bharath leaked a false audit report to the board — claimed your husband had mismanaged a 15-lakh vendor payment. The board froze his increment for six months. Your husband never told you. He worked overtime to cover the ‘shortfall’ himself.”

Manya’s fingers trembled on the paper.

Incident two: Six months later, Bharath got your husband assigned to a new branch — 80 km away. 
Daily commute became impossible. Your husband requested transfer back.
Bharath blocked it, citing ‘performance issues.’ 
Your husband started leaving at 5 a.m., returning at 10 p.m. 
You thought he was just busy. He never complained.”

Manya’s breath hitched.

Incident three: When your daughter was born, hospital bills came to 2.8 lakhs. Some of them are Bharath's doing unwanted scans and extra bills , he pushed you guys indirectly.. Bharath delayed the company insurance claim for four months — said there were ‘discrepancies.’ Bharath expected your husband will ask for a help to bharath.. but he never done it.. 

Your husband took a personal loan to pay. He repaid it in secret, cutting back on everything. You thought the money came from savings.”
Tears welled in Manya’s eyes.

Incident four — the final push: Bharath openly threatened him — ‘Surrender Manya to me or I’ll make sure you lose everything.’ 
Your husband refused. Bharath escalated — fabricated a complaint about embezzlement. 

The company suspended him without pay. 
He fought the case alone, spent every rupee on lawyers, won after 14 months. 
But by then the damage was done. He never told you. Not once.”

Vikram paused.

“You never knew he worked evenings at a workshop and nights as a load man in a textile shop. He gathered every single rupee. You all thought he was just an accountant. But to protect you and your little family from Bharath’s shadow, he sacrificed everything.”


Manya broke. A sob escaped her. She covered her mouth.

“I never saw the pain. Never knew he carried so much burden behind. He is no more to even ask for an apology. But I truly loved him. My kid is a symbol of it. First few months I didn’t communicate with him. I was angry. But he made me calm down. Gave me space. Gave me respect. Never once said his troubles…”

She cried openly now — raw, wrenching sobs.

Vikram watched her in silence. Then he spoke — calm, measured.
“I know you want revenge.”

Manya looked up, eyes red.

“In a way, your late husband and I are trying the same. 
I wanted to get back my wife permanently from him.
 He did everything to keep you safe without his shadow.”

Manya said:
“You and my husband are not the same. He sacrificed a lot — left positions, left comfort — just to hold me. 
You… succumbed to pressure about your past. You lent Mirnaa out. Now you just feel safe trying to get her back.
You and my husband are not the same.”



The claim was brutal. Vikram knew it. 
Manya had touched a nerve — factually true, impossible to defend.
 He dropped his head in shame for a long moment.

Manya looked up again, voice steady despite the tears.

“I want to finish him. Finish Bharath. Do something, Vikram.”

Vikram smiled — slow, cold.
“Short or long?”

Manya looked confused.
“He cannot be punished in a day. He should experience his life.”

Vikram’s smile widened.
“Then marry him.”

Manya stared at him.

Vikram continued:
“Get the assets under your control. I will tell you the long-term plan to make him suffer.”

Manya’s eyes searched his. A long moment passed.


A call came in — Sawthi. She sent an address. Asked him to go tomorrow for a surprise.

Vikram replied: “Okay.”



Manya was still looking at him.

Vikram said:
“Deal?”

She swallowed.
“Deal.”

On the 5th day, Manya agreed to Vikram.
VIkram said i will send you what to do in upcoming days, you need to come to chennai day after tomorrow, i will get your accomodations ready!
done?

Manya: deal.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 133 – Day 6: Surprises & Surrender


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Day 5 - Evening 8 PM

Vikram returned earlier than usual — the Bangalore meeting had wrapped quickly. The house lights were soft, the sea outside a steady whisper. He stepped inside, expecting the usual quiet: Mirnaa in the kitchen or reading, Bharath in his room. 

Instead, he found Mirnaa in their bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by open boxes and tissue paper.


She was feeling heavy, Bharath spoke a lot, him leaving in two days, the laughs, their talks, she would definitely miss him..
She saw him packing things now, she felt a pain... 
She was just replaying the scene of Vikram packing things, replayed in her mind.
The good soul who stayed with her all the time is leaving.. but with a pain.. 
we should have bid a good by in goa,
he came here and get hurt by vikram 
she just wished for some magic that calms her mind
She was willing to give a kiss, a hug, may be more to calm him.. she confidently believes like Vikram, Bharath to loves her truly..

She was lost in thought...

Vikram paused in the doorway.
“What’s all this?”

Mirnaa looked up, eyes bright — almost guilty.



“Bharath is leaving in two days. He… got me these farewell gifts.”

Vikram walked closer. The boxes were expensive — sleek black, gold-embossed logos. He opened one: makeup kits, high-end perfumes, lipsticks in every shade. Another box: sarees — 50 or more, each wrapped individually. Pattu silk, Kanjivaram, chiffon, designer blouses, lehengas, Anarkali suits. A fortune in fabric and thread.

He lifted a deep maroon pattu saree — heavy zari work, the kind that cost lakhs.
Mirnaa watched his face.


“His hand bandages are removed now. He can work freely. He took me to the shop. I said no, but he pressured me. He spent almost 5 lakhs in one single day… just for me.”

She pulled out another saree — emerald green with gold border.

“He said for the next 20 birthdays, I need to wear these. He loves me too much, right?”

Vikram’s fingers tightened on the saree for a second. Then he let it fall back into the box.


“No,” he said quietly.
Mirnaa laughed — playful, teasing.

“You’re jealous.”
She leaned back on her hands.

“Bharath said he has something to ask you tomorrow.”
Vikram met her eyes. He knew exactly what it would be. He stayed calm.

“I’ll handle it.”

The night passed as usual. Mirnaa fell asleep against his chest — her head tucked under his chin, fingers curled against his shirt. She didn’t go to Bharath’s room. Vikram lay awake longer, staring at the ceiling, listening to her breathing. The sarees sat in their boxes on the dresser like silent witnesses.



Next Morning  ([b]6th  DAY) – Chennai[/b]

Vikram had to leave early. Swathi had sent an address — a surprise, she said. He kissed Mirnaa’s forehead before he left. She was still half-asleep.

“Be careful,” she murmured.

“I always am.”


Mirnaa and Bharath left for the hospital at 9:30 AM. Vikram headed to the airport at 10:20 AM.


What Vikram didn’t know: Priya and Bharath had planned something else. They are taking Mirnaa to movie hall 



Chennai – Private Theatre Hall – Afternoon


The theatre was a small, upscale single-screen hall near the beach road — one Bharath knew well. He had called in a favor from the owner, an old friend from his security officer days who owed him. 

The entire place was booked for the afternoon — no other patrons, no staff except one projectionist who had been told to stay in the booth. 

The lights dimmed as Mirnaa and Bharath settled into the middle row, wide plush seats, armrests up. Priya had “forgotten something urgent” and left just before the film began.

The screen flickered to life.
It wasn’t a movie.

It was a montage — carefully edited clips and photos from Goa. Their Goa. Joyful moments Bharath had saved: Mirnaa laughing as waves crashed around her ankles, 


Bharath spinning her on the sand at sunset, the two of them sharing ice cream under string lights, her head on his shoulder during a candlelight dinner, their hands intertwined while walking barefoot along the shore. 

Playful nostalgia ride — stolen glances, silly dances, rain-soaked kisses under a palm tree. Every frame glowed with carefree happiness.



Mirnaa’s breath caught.
“You… kept all this?”


Bharath nodded quietly.
“I couldn’t delete it.”


The music swelled — soft instrumental versions of their favorite songs. 


Then text appeared over the images:


“Mirnaa…
Every moment with you was perfect.
I want one more.
One last date.
Like in Goa.
The laughs, the hugs, the kisses, the embrace, the love...
One more memory.
Just once.
Before I leave forever.
— Bharath”


A voice note played — Bharath’s voice, low and emotional, recorded recently:

“I know I hurt you. I know I broke things. But those days in Goa… they were real. You were happy. I was happy. I’ve never felt that alive since. 

I’m not asking to take you away from him. I’m asking for one evening. One night. To say goodbye properly. To leave with something beautiful instead of pain. If you say yes… I will speak with vikram... Just us… like before.”


The screen faded to black. The hall was silent except for their breathing.


Mirnaa’s eyes shimmered. She was blushing — cheeks warm, lips parted. 
The montage had hit exactly where it hurt most: the innocence of those days, the joy she’d buried under guilt.


Bharath turned to her. Took her hand gently.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I always have. One date. One night. That’s all I’m asking. If Vikram says no… I’ll leave quietly.

But if he says yes… will you give me that memory?”

Mirnaa looked at him — eyes searching his face in the dim light.


“I… I already told you I’m willing. But only if Vikram agrees.”
Bharath nodded.



“He will. I’ll make him understand.”
He leaned in slowly. Kissed her cheek — soft, reverent.
Then he turned her face with gentle fingers.



Their lips met — tentative at first, then deeper. She let it happen. Let him kiss her. Her hands rested on his chest — not pushing, not pulling. After a long moment she broke away, breathing hard.


“But if we… if it leads to more…” she whispered.

Bharath’s thumb brushed her lower lip.
“Then let it. One night. No guilt.
And i actually want it.


You forget we had a deal, to slow down,
ever since returning back chennai, i didnt pressure it because, you seemed distant
let us have sex with your husbands approval.. a farewell sex
For us.”



Mirnaa closed her eyes.

“If Vikram agrees… then yes. All of it.”



Bangalore – Swathi’s Apartment – Afternoon



Vikram reached the address Swathi had sent — a quiet, upscale apartment building. 


Swathi opened the door before Vikram could knock a second time. She stood there barefoot, hair loose and slightly messy, wearing a simple white kurta that fell just above her knees. No makeup. No pretense. Just her — the woman who had always known how to unravel him with a single look.


Vikram was surprised

Swathi said, surprised? Yes we are shifting here, Krish agreed to move from Dubai.. krish soon leaving his business to his brother, you both has to slow down and focus on other business. 




Vikram stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him.

A moment of silence

She moved first — closing the distance in two steps. Their arms came around each other at the same moment. The hug was long. Tight. Desperate in a way only people who have spent too much time apart can understand. 

Vikram buried his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of coconut oil and something faintly floral that was just Swathi. His fingers dug into her back like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.



“I missed you,” he murmured against her temple, voice rough.

“Me too,” she whispered back, her own arms locked around his neck. “Every single day.”


They stayed like that — bodies pressed close, hearts thudding against each other — until the ache of separation turned into something hotter, more urgent.



Vikram pulled back just enough to look at her.
“Where’s Krish?”

“Still in Dubai. Wrapping things up. But the baby’s here — sleeping in the nursery.”
Vikram’s eyes darkened instantly. He glanced toward the closed door at the end of the hallway, then back to Swathi. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.


“Sleeping,” he repeated, voice low.
Swathi’s lips curved — matching his.
“Out like a light. We have time.”


His hand slid down her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine, then lower — cupping her through the thin kurta. He squeezed lightly, possessively. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away.


“You always did like playing with fire,” she teased.
He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

“I like playing with you.”


His other hand found the hem of her kurta, slipped underneath. Skin on skin. Fingers gliding up her thigh, teasing the edge of her underwear. Swathi’s breath hitched. She pressed herself closer, hands sliding under his shirt, nails grazing his back.


They moved toward the bedroom — not rushing, but not patient either. 


A game they both knew by heart. Vikram backed her against the wall just outside the bedroom door. Kissed her hard — hungry, claiming. His hand slipped between her thighs, rubbing slow circles over the fabric. She moaned softly into his mouth.



“Quiet,” he whispered against her lips. “Don’t wake her.”


Swathi laughed — breathless.
“Then stop teasing and do something about it.”
He did.


They stumbled into the bedroom. Clothes hit the floor — his shirt, her kurta, his jeans, her leggings. No slow undressing. Just urgency. He pushed her gently onto the bed. She pulled him down with her. 




Their bodies tangled — urgent, familiar. His mouth on her throat. Her nails raking down his back. The bed creaked under them as they moved together — hard, fast, almost punishing in its intensity.



She bit his shoulder when the wave hit her — sharp enough to leave marks. He groaned her name when he followed, burying himself deep, shuddering through the release.


Afterward they lay side by side. Sweat cooling on their skin. The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead. Their breathing slowly returned to normal.


Swathi propped herself on one elbow, looking down at him. Her hair fell across her face like a curtain. She brushed it back.

So whats happening?

Vikram told all the stories, and his next expectation is Bhrath would ask his hand on allowing mirna to date him...


Swathi asked
“will  you let mirna when Bharath ask for the date?”

Vikram stared at the ceiling, one arm behind his head.

“I’ll permit it. After a fight. Make it look real. Make Mirnaa think she fought for it — that she won something.”
Swathi’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“And then?”
Vikram turned his head to meet her gaze. He leaned close — so close his lips brushed her ear when he spoke.

He whispered the final game.
The words were quiet. Precise. Brutal in their simplicity.

Swathi’s breath caught. Her eyes widened.
“That’s brutal,” she said softly.

She searched his face.
“It’ll hurt Mirnaa more than Bharath.”


Vikram didn’t flinch.

“The lesson — the punishment — isn’t just for him. It’s for her too.”
Swathi exhaled slowly, almost a sigh.



“What if it goes the opposite way?”
Vikram pulled her closer, lips brushing hers.

“It won’t. I won’t fail this time.”


They kissed again — slow, deep, lingering.

Their bodies tangled once more. This time slower. More deliberate. As if sealing a pact.

They stayed like that until evening — skin against skin, plans whispered between kisses, the future of two marriages hanging in the balance.

[jiivawonderland]

update 7th day chapter soon 

super thrilling this one is

Who will win Vikram or Bharath

Bharath seems winning again.

But Vikram has manya support could not guess vikram move.

[sunilserene]

Simply mind blowing

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 134 – Day 6 Evening : The Final Push and Mirna takes a lead

Chennai – Private Theatre Hall – Late Afternoon

The movie credits rolled.

 The screen faded to black. For a moment the theatre stayed dark and silent, as if the world outside didn’t exist.
Bharath stood first. He offered his hand. Mirnaa took it without thinking. Their fingers interlaced as they walked out together into the cool evening air.


Priya was waiting near the exit, grinning like she’d won a bet.

Mirnaa stopped in front of her, cheeks still flushed from the montage, the proposal slide, the voice note, the kiss.

“Priya… what was all that?” 


she said, voice a mix of embarrassment and fake anger. “You orchestrated everything.?? 

Priya raised her hands innocently, still smiling.


“I was just helping a friend. You two looked so good together in there. 
Don’t blame me if the sparks flew.”
Bharath squeezed Mirnaa’s hand gently.
“She’s right. It was my idea. Priya just… encouraged it.”



She turned of Bharath and said I said okay in the heat of the moment, but it’s wrong. 
I can’t do it. Even if Vikram gives permission, I should think properly. This isn’t right.”


Mirnaa shook her head, Bharath was upset 
but her grip on his hand didn’t loosen.



On the Way Back – The Abandoned Factory

The drive started normal. But ten minutes in, Bharath suddenly turned the Thar off the main road onto a narrow, dusty path leading to an old, abandoned factory on the outskirts — rusted gates, broken windows, overgrown weeds.

Mirnaa sat up straight.
“Where are you going? This isn’t the way home.”

Bharath didn’t answer immediately. He parked the Thar near the gate and killed the engine. The silence was heavy.
“Bharath… what is this place?”

He turned to her, eyes intense.
“See… I don’t know how else to prove my love to you. This building here belongs to that bigshot — the one who will always be trouble for you. 
I’m going to finish him today. If something happens to me… just tell me you love me from the bottom of your heart to my photo. That’s all I want.”


Mirnaa’s face went pale.
“Why are you doing this? Stop it!”

He opened the door.
“I couldn’t prove my love any other way.”

She grabbed his arm.
“I know you love me! I acknowledge it! You would do anything for me — I know that!”

Bharath looked at her, voice breaking slightly.
“Then speak to Vikram. Let us ask him. Let us say just one day. I need you. I want to make love with you.
I want to celebrate like a newly married couple — with flowers, decorations, everything. 
One perfect night before I leave forever.”

Mirnaa’s eyes filled with tears.
“None of this makes sense… 

Bhrath: So you don’t trust me? You think like Vikram I’m here only for sex? 
You know if I wanted I could take it.
 I’m just here… asking you to make love, not sex.”

She looked at him, struggling, her position incredibly complicated.
Bharath opened the door fully and moved fast toward the factory gate. 

He kicked it hard — the rusted metal groaned and swung open.
Mirnaa ran after him, almost crying.

“Bharath! No! No! Please! Let’s have… I will speak! I will speak to him!”
Two rough-looking men stepped out from the shadows — rowdies. Bharath kicked the first one hard in the chest, sending him flying into the wall. The second tried to grab him — Bharath twisted and slammed him to the ground.
Mirnaa screamed, grabbing his arm.
“Please! Please come with me!”


The rowdies groaned on the ground. One of them looked up, confused.
“Why are you beating us?”


Bharath pulled out his security officer ID and flashed it. You are the purse pickpockters right?

He acted like looking at the image in phone and said Ooops
“Sorry. Wrong information. It seems you guys are not the ones we are searching for.”

The men panicked and scrambled away.

Mirna asked what if they alert their boss. 
Bharath turned to Mirnaa, breathing hard but calm.
“See? I have controlled the situation, he pointed at purse pickpocket distratcion and said No worries.”

The drive back home was tense. 
Mirnaa was all tears, silently crying in the passenger seat. Bharath reached over with his good hand and gently wiped her cheek.

“Tomorrow we will be dating. We will have one good farewell night… but after that… I will leave this place. You should take care.”
She could not control her tears. He had manipulated her completely into believing he truly loved her.



Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Night

Vikram came back from Bangalore around 10:30 PM. 
The moment he stepped inside, he saw both of them waiting for him in the living room — Mirnaa sitting on the sofa, 
Bharath standing near the window.
He knew what they were up to.


But he didn’t know the full drama that had unfolded.
As he entered, the drama began.




Vikram stopped just inside the doorway. He looked from one to the other.

No one spoke for a second.


Then Mirnaa stood up. Her voice came out small, trembling, but steady.

“Vikram… you love me, right?”



He blinked. This wasn’t what he expected. He had prepared for Bharath to speak — to ask boldly for a date, maybe even push for sex. But Mirnaa herself?

“What do you want, Mirnaa?”



She took one step forward. Tears were already gathering in her eyes.



“Bharath loves me… a lot.” Her voice cracked. 

She wiped a falling tear with the back of her hand. “I want to date him. 

And… spend a night with him. 

Sexually. 

I will come back the next day. This is all I want. Just one night.”



Vikram didnt expect this, his eyes turned red..
The room went completely still.

[Muralimm]

Vikram was full corner now what he do now
What happened next

You make more exciting now man

[aravindkkumar08]

Sudden story changed. It seems Vikram loose bet and handover his wife to Bharath hey bro request not another cuck scene

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 135 – Day 6: The long night and early morning of day 7.


Vikram stopped just inside the doorway. He looked from one to the other.


No one spoke for a second.

Then Mirnaa stood up. Her voice came out small, trembling, but steady.
“Vikram… you love me, right?”

He blinked. This wasn’t what he expected. He had prepared for Bharath to speak — to ask boldly for a date, maybe even push for sex. But Mirnaa herself?
“What do you want, Mirnaa?”
She took one step forward. Tears were already gathering in her eyes.
“Bharath loves me… a lot.” Her voice cracked. She wiped a falling tear with the back of her hand. “I want to date him. And… spend a night with him. Sexually. I will come back the next day. This is all I need. Just one night.”
The room went completely still.

Vikram stared at her. He had expected Bharath’s arrogance. Not this — not Mirnaa standing in front of him, asking permission to sleep with another man, tears streaming down her face.

Bharath stayed silent, letting her speak.

Vikram exhaled slowly. His voice came out cool, almost detached.

“If you want to date him… date him. If you want to have sex with him… do it. I won’t stop you.”

Mirnaa’s shoulders shook. She couldn’t look at him. Tears kept falling — silent, unstoppable.
“But don’t say he loves you,” Vikram added quietly.
Mirnaa’s breath hitched. She pressed her lips together hard, trying to hold back a sob.

Vikram stood up from the armchair he’d sat in. He walked to the wooden almirah against the wall. His fist clenched — knuckles white. Then he swung.
The punch landed hard. Wood cracked visibly — a long splintered line running down the door. The sound echoed in the room.
Mirnaa flinched.

Vikram turned back to them, breathing steady again.
“But let me tell you clearly — I’m just allowing it. I’m not okay with this. I hate the idea of you sleeping with him. I hate it with every part of me. I’m only not stopping you because… you asked.”
He looked straight at Mirnaa.

“You asked.”
Bharath finally spoke — calm, measured.

“I won’t come again after tomorrow. I asked her to spend one night like a real couple. Our rooms will be decorated — flowers, lights, everything. Hope you don’t mind.”
Vikram’s fist tightened again — but he didn’t hit anything this time. He just stared at Bharath.

Mirnaa looked between them. She was torn — visibly torn. Tears kept falling.
“Vikram… just one day. Forget my absence. Please.”
Vikram didn’t answer right away. He looked at her — really looked. The woman he loved, standing there crying, asking him to let her sleep with another man.

Then he nodded once — short, sharp.
“One night.”
He turned and walked out of the room without another word.
Mirnaa sank back onto the sofa, face buried in her hands. Bharath moved to her side — not touching, just close.
Tomorrow would be the date.
Tomorrow would be the night.


Night 11 pm in virkam bedroom

The bedroom was dark except for the faint blue glow from the nightlight on Mirnaa’s side table. The curtains were half-open, letting in slivers of moonlight and the distant sound of waves. Vikram lay on his back, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Mirnaa had come in quietly after changing — the pale blue nightgown, hair loose, eyes still red from earlier tears.



She slipped under the covers beside him. For a long moment neither spoke. The space between them felt wider than the bed itself.
Mirnaa turned on her side to face him. Her voice came out small, hesitant.
“Vikram…”
He didn’t look at her right away. When he did, his expression was calm — no anger, no disgust, no warmth. Just stillness.
She reached out slowly and rested her fingers on his forearm — light, almost afraid he would flinch.
He didn’t.

“You didn’t push me away,” she whispered. “You didn’t look at me like I was… dirty. I thought you would.”
Vikram exhaled slowly through his nose.
“Why would I?”

“Because…” Her voice cracked. “Because I just asked — in front of you — to sleep with another man.”
He turned his head fully to meet her eyes.
You know exactly what you are doing, you know how one should see it , if you know it better then dont do it.. 


Vikram’s voice stayed even, measured. Im telling you again 

“He’s fooling you, Mirnaa. He never loved you. Not the way you think. Everything he’s doing — the gifts, the factory drama, the tears, the ‘one last night’ — it’s all a performance. He wants to own you. Break you. And you’re letting him.”
Mirnaa’s hand tightened on his arm.

“No. You’re wrong. Bharath… he almost walked into that factory today. He was ready to fight — to die — just to prove something to me. I had to drag him back. I saved him. And all he wanted was… one night. One real night. Like we’re not broken.”

Tears welled again. She wiped them angrily.

“We already had sex before. In Goa. It happened. It won’t be new. It’s not like I’m giving something I never gave. Just… digest it for me. One day. Please.”

Vikram looked at her for a long moment. Then he spoke — quiet, firm.
“I know you better, Mirnaa. He’s not proving love. He’s proving control. And you’re falling for it.”

She shook her head — small, stubborn.
“You don’t understand. He… he loves me.”

Vikram didn’t argue. He just looked at her — really looked. Registered every word. Every tear. Every tremble in her voice. Every defense she threw up for Bharath.

He registered it all.
Mirnaa tried to lean closer — to rest her forehead against his shoulder like she used to. But something inside her stopped her.

She felt it suddenly — sharp and cold.
She was the dirty one.


She was the one who had asked. The one who had kissed Bharath back in the theatre. The one who had said “yes” to a night of sex with another man while her husband lay beside her now.

Vikram hadn’t moved. Hadn’t pushed her away. Hadn’t looked at her with hate.
And that made it worse.

She felt filthy next to him. Like her touch would stain him. Like she didn’t deserve to be close.
She pulled her hand back slowly. Wrapped her arms around herself.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Vikram didn’t reply.

He just turned his head back to the ceiling.
Mirnaa lay on her side — facing away from him now — tears slipping silently into the pillow.

Vikram stayed awake long after her breathing evened out.
He had registered everything.
Every word.
Every tear.
Every defense.
He knew exactly what to do next.



7th Day Morning Came


Day 7: The Morning & The Departure


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Morning


Vikram woke to the sound of murmurs — low, tense voices drifting from the attached bathroom. His eyes opened slowly. The room was still dim, curtains drawn against the early sun. He lay still for a moment, listening.
Mirnaa’s voice — soft, pleading.
“Bharath, please… not now. Not like this.”
Bharath’s voice — calm, almost playful.

“It’s our date day. I thought we could share a shower together. Just like old times.”

Vikram sat up quietly. The bathroom door was slightly ajar. Through the crack he saw Bharath standing in just a towel wrapped low around his waist, hair damp, scar on his palm faintly visible. Mirnaa stood facing him, still in her pale blue nightgown, arms crossed tightly over her chest, face flushed with tension.

She was shaking her head.
“I said no. Not here. Not now.”

Vikram cleared his throat once — sharp enough to cut through.
Both of them turned.

Mirnaa’s eyes widened in panic. Bharath’s expression shifted — surprise, then a small, unreadable smile.
Vikram stood, robe hanging open over his pajamas.

“What is this?”
Bharath spoke first, casual as if discussing breakfast.

“Today is our date day. Thought Mirnaa and I could share a shower together. Start the day right.”

Mirnaa’s voice came out rushed, almost desperate.
“Vikram… I told him no. I asked him not to do this..

Vikram looked at Bharath — long, cold.
“Not here. And not now.”

He turned to Mirnaa.
“You asked for the night. That’s what I agreed to. Not this.”

Mirnaa nodded quickly, stepping toward Vikram.
“Yes. Tonight. Only tonight.”

Bharath raised his hands slightly — placating.
“Okay. My intentions are misinterpreted. I won’t lay a finger on her today… until night.”

He smiled — small, confident.
“I’m planning to take her to ECR Resort. Initially i thought We’ll stay there tonight but i need privacy... Private. Romantic. I want to carry her in my arms — like carrying my love.”


Mirnaa couldn’t meet Vikram’s eyes. She looked at the floor.


Vikram’s voice stayed even.
“No. I can’t send her out.”

Bharath’s smile didn’t falter.
“I need privacy.”

Vikram looked at him — then at Mirnaa.
“I won’t go out of this room. You two do whatever you want here.”

Bharath paused. Then nodded.
“Fine. Agreed. Tonight she stays here. I’ll pick her up sharp at 11. Carry her in my arms.”

Vikram asked what that nonsense

Bhrath said, i dont have permission to go out atleast allow us to do what we inteneded to do..


Mirnaa’s face burned. She turned away quickly.
“I’ll… I’ll bathe and make breakfast.”

She hurried out of the room.
Bharath watched her go. Then looked at Vikram.

“See you tonight.”

He left the room without another word.

The breakfast done quiet, bharath said lets go to beach now, lunch, movies, dinenr shopping and evening 9 We will be back. 10 o clcok decortation and 11 i need her.. he said once again to vikram 

Mirnaa couldnt see him, she quickly kissed vikram's forhead and said sorry, love you stay here.. i love you and went 

Virkam didnt movef from his place he heared Thar engine sound that slowly fading...

Vikram stood alone for a moment. Then he walked to the dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out his phone.
He typed a quick message to Swathi.

“Happening today. She’s going with him for date and sex tonight. Permission given.”
Swathi’s reply came almost instantly.

“Are you sure this will work?”
Vikram stared at the screen for a second.

Then typed back:
“I trust myself on this.”

He pocketed the phone.
The day had begun.

[aravindkkumar08]

Nice update. As the update progress we are unable to sleep today. Waiting for your update

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 136 – Day 7 Night : Its Vikram's Show Time



Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Noon

Vikram didn’t eat lunch. He sat alone at the dining table, plate untouched, staring at the empty chair opposite him. The house was silent — Mirnaa and Bharath had left hours ago for their “date.” He had watched them go: Bharath holding the car door open for her, Mirnaa giving him one last apologetic glance before climbing in.

He wasn’t hungry. He was calculating.

They had taken the bait — both of them. Bharath thought he had won. Mirnaa thought she had fought for something noble. They believed Vikram had surrendered, that he had given up.


But Vikram knew his control.


He looked around the empty hall — at the cracked almirah door, at the faint scent of jasmine still lingering from her morning flowers.


He spoke to the silence, voice low and certain.
“I lost once. I won’t lose again. This time… I will win.”
Hours passed.


Evening – ECR Resort & Return


Somewhere in the late afternoon, Bharath and Mirnaa had gone for water theme games — slides, wave pools, lazy rivers. Bharath played like a kid , splashing her, chasing her through the spray, making her laugh until her sides hurt. He knew exactly how to keep her mood high, engaged, happy — every moment building toward the night. 

They had a quiet dinner outside, seaside restaurant, candlelight, her favorite dishes. She ate little, smiled a lot, but her eyes kept drifting, uncertain, guilty.


Around 8:30 PM she pulled out her phone and texted Vikram:
“Should I bring you some food from the hotel? Your favorite mushroom roast?”

Vikram’s reply came almost immediately:
“I cooked for you. I ate it. If you’ve had enough, leave it.”

Mirnaa stared at the message. 
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. She just prayed his normalcy would stay — that he wouldn’t break when she came back.

By 9 PM the Thar pulled into the driveway.

Bharath waved casually as they entered. 
Vikram was sitting in the living room — single lamp on, book in hand but unread.

Mirnaa’s face was half-blushed, half-uncertain — the day had been joyful, but the night loomed.
Bharath came back from the guest room.

“Mirnaa, wear the pattu saree. Wear these flowers in your hair. Come like a newly wedded woman.”

Vikram stood from his place. Walked to the bedroom without a word.

Mirnaa followed him quickly.
They didn’t quarrel. Both were numb.

She went near him — close enough to touch.
“Tonight… after he is satisfied… I will be back. Even if it’s midnight.”

Vikram looked at her — calm, unreadable.
“I don’t care.”

Mirnaa shed a tear.
“Please, Vikram… understand.
He loves me a lot. I don’t know how I’ll prove this…
I’m stuck between two people who love me most.”

Vikram laughed — short, bitter.
“He doesn’t love you.”

He caught her face gently between his hands — thumbs brushing her wet cheeks.
“I know you.”

He released her. Sat on the edge of the bed.

Mirnaa sat quietly beside him for a moment — then stood.
She got ready herself: the new sandal-white mixed pattu saree, gold jewelry, fresh flowers pinned in her hair. 
She looked like a newly wedded woman — beautiful, traditional, torn.


Bharath had already decorated the entire guest bedroom — rose petals on the bed, fairy lights, brass lamp, glass of milk on the nightstand. He took a photo of the setup. Sent it to Mirnaa.

Vikram glanced at her phone from a distance.
“bastard,” he muttered to himself.

By 11 PM Bharath knocked on their door.

He was in a white shirt and dhoti — simple, traditional, like a groom.
They looked like a pair.

Bharath came near. Didn’t wait for anything.
 He lifted Mirnaa in his arms — bridal carry, effortless.
Mirnaa was shocked.

“I will send her back in the morning. Good night, Vikram,” he said.
Mirnaa dropped her head. She bit her lip — let it happen.

He carried her carefully down the steps. 
She was skeptical — heart racing — but determined. 

She decided to leave her hesitance behind tonight. 
To treat Bharath better — to give him the farewell he wanted.

They entered the guest room.

Mirnaa was astonished by the decoration — every detail perfect, romantic, intimate.
“How did you do all this alone?” she whispered.

Bharath smiled.
“Because i love you...This is going to be the biggest memory we both can’t forget.”

Vikram — in the master bedroom — connected his laptop to the CCTV feeds. Started watching.

He typed a message:
“Assembled ready?”

Reply:
“Yes.”

Vikram sat motionless in the dim blue glow of the monitors. The secret room was silent except for the low hum of the cooling fans. His eyes were locked on the feed from the guest room — crystal clear, every angle, every sound captured in perfect detail.



Bharath stood in the middle of the decorated room, looking at Mirnaa like she was the only thing that existed in the world.

“I love you,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

Mirnaa didn’t say it back. She just looked at him — eyes shimmering, lips slightly parted, caught between shame and something warmer she didn’t want to name.

He stepped forward and hugged her hungrily, arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her body flush against his. 
Their mouths met — not gentle, not tentative. A deep, starving lip-to-lip kiss. 
Their tongues danced immediately, sliding, tasting, exploring. Soft wet sounds filled the room as they devoured each other.
Mirnaa’s hands clutched his shirt, then slid up to his neck, pulling him closer even as tears slipped from the corners of her closed eyes.

Bharath broke the kiss, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers.
“We look like newly married,” he whispered, voice husky. “I’m going to undress you — one by one.”

He tugged her saree pallu. The heavy fabric slipped from her shoulder. Half the saree cascaded down, pooling at her waist, revealing the deep neckline of her blouse and the curve of her breasts.

He lifted her in his arms again — bridal carry, effortless. She gasped, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He threw her gently onto the bed. Her breasts bounced under the tight blouse as she landed among the rose petals.

Bharath climbed over her immediately. He kissed her boobs hungrily over the blouse — mouth open, sucking through the fabric, teeth grazing her nipples. Mirnaa bit her lower lip hard, a soft moan escaping despite herself. Her body was responding — nipples hardening, heat pooling between her legs. She was getting turned on, and she hated how easily it happened.

Bharath lifted his head, smiling down at her.
“We missed something important.”
She asked breathlessly:
“What?”

“You didn’t carry the milk to the room — the ritual.”
She let out a shaky, fake-playful laugh and lightly beat his chest.
He grinned.

“I need to taste your body with honey coated. Let’s go to the kitchen and fetch something.”

She followed — adjusting her slipping saree as best she could. 
They walked out of the room together. 

In the hallway, Bharath suddenly pulled her saree again — harder this time. 
The entire saree slipped off her body and fell in a heap in the living room.
She gasped.
“Why?”

He grinned, eyes dark with lust.
“A small kink. Let me detach your clothes everywhere in the house. Leave a trail of you.”

Mirnaa lightly beat his arm again, cheeks burning.
They entered the kitchen. She took a glass of milk. 
He grabbed a small jar of honey.

Back in the room, their lips locked once again — deeper, wetter. 
He pushed her onto the bed. 

Slowly unbuttoned her blouse. One hook. Two. Three. 
The fabric parted, revealing her black lace bra and the soft swell of her breasts.

He asked, voice rough:
“Undress me.”

Mirnaa’s hands trembled as she turned to him. 
She unbuttoned his shirt slowly, kissing every exposed inch of skin.
Finally she kissed deep on his chest — open-mouthed, tongue tracing his muscles.
He couldn’t wait. He tore the blouse away — it flew and landed near the door.

“Go easy,” she whispered, voice shaky.

She removed his dhoti. He was left in tight black boxer briefs, the thick outline of his erection clearly visible.
He undressed her petticoat in one tug. It pooled at her feet.
Now she was just in bra and panties.

They smooched again — tongues tangling, saliva mixing. 
Her body was fully aroused — nipples stiff against the lace, panties damp between her legs.
Bharath smiled. Turned his back to her.

“Undress me. Kiss your friend.”

Mirnaa pulled his boxer brief down slowly. 
His thick, heavy erection sprang free — veined, throbbing, already leaking precum at the tip.
He looked down at her.
“Did you forget?”

Mirnaa gave a small, naughty smile — shy but aroused. 
She leaned forward. Let her tongue tease the swollen head. 
Licked the precum slowly, tasting him. Bharath groaned deep in his throat.

He couldn’t contain anymore. 
He forcefully made her lie on her back. Pulled her bra away in one motion — threw it. 
Her full breasts shook free, nipples dark and erect.

He attacked them aggressively — sucking hard, biting the soft flesh, leaving red marks. 
Mirnaa moaned, back arching, hands in his hair.
One sharp pull — her panties came off. She was completely naked.


He spread her legs wide. Her shaved pussy was glistening, swollen, ready. 

He teased his thick tip against her entrance — rubbing up and down her wet slit, coating himself in her juices. 
Precum mixed with her arousal.
Mirnaa was in ecstasy — breathing fast, hips twitching.
Bharath whispered, voice rough:
“Invite me. Call me. Beg me.”

Mirnaa left her last trace of shyness.
“Take me, Bharath. Come inside me. Love me… as you always do.”

He spread her legs wider. Positioned himself. Pushed forward.
His thick penis tip entered her vagina — stretching her slowly.

Vikram — watching the live feed — pulled out his phone. Dialed and said
NOW.



Mirnaa lay on her back in the center of the bed, completely naked, legs spread wide, her body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, nipples dark and swollen from Bharath’s earlier bites, her shaved pussy slick and open, lips parted and flushed. She was trembling — part anticipation, part lingering shame — eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him.



Bharath hovered above her, knees braced between her thighs, his thick erection heavy and throbbing, the swollen head already slick with her wetness and his own precum. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear, voice low and rough with need.

“After a taste… I’m going to fuck you like mad, Mirnaa.”

He shifted his hips forward. The blunt tip of his cock pressed against her entrance — hot, insistent. He rubbed it slowly up and down her slit once, twice, coating himself in her arousal. Mirnaa’s breath hitched, hips twitching involuntarily toward him.

Then he pushed.

The thick head breached her — stretching her slowly, inch by inch. Mirnaa gasped — sharp, needy — fingers clutching the sheets. Her inner walls fluttered around him, welcoming despite the ache of his size. Half his length slid inside her in one smooth glide, filling her completely, the sensation overwhelming.

She moaned — soft, broken — back arching off the bed.

The phone rang.

The sharp, insistent ringtone cut through the haze — the special one Bharath had set only for Manya.
His entire body locked. Eyes widened in instant panic.

He reached blindly for the nightstand — still buried half inside Mirnaa — and grabbed the phone.
“Manya?” His voice cracked. “Why are you calling me?”
Manya’s voice came through — broken, sobbing, desperate.

“Bharath… I m in Chennai,I lost the way. I’m broken. I just need to hear one word.... Just tell me you love me…”

Bharath’s face drained of color. His hips jerked back instinctively — his thick cock sliding out of Mirnaa with a wet, obscene sound. She gasped — suddenly empty, aching, shocked — her pussy clenching around nothing.

He scrambled off the bed — erection bobbing, still glistening with her arousal — grabbing clothes in a frantic rush.

Mirnaa lay frozen — legs still spread wide, thighs trembling, pussy open and slick, swollen from his brief intrusion. 
She stared at him in stunned silence.

“Bharath… we’re in the middle…”

Manya on the other side, voice small and wounded:
“Oh… you married? Got a new wife?”

Bharath panicked, fumbling with his boxer briefs.
“No no! She is not related to me at all!”

He yanked on his pants, shirt half-buttoned, shoes in hand. He didn’t look back.
“I’m coming, Manya. I love you. You’re the only one i love... Where are you?”

He ran out the door — bare feet slapping the floor, leaving Mirnaa alone on the bed. and his voice fades.

She stayed frozen for several long seconds.
 The room spun. The rose petals beneath her felt cold now. 
The fairy lights mocked her — twinkling like they were laughing.

The man who had just been inside her — who had begged her to beg him — had pulled out and left her naked, dripping, open, for his old flame.
She sounded like a joke to herself.

Tears welled — hot, fast, unstoppable.
Is this worth fighting your husband for?

Her inner voice answered — cruel, clear.
You deserve it, Mirnaa.

She looked around — the beautiful decorations, the scattered clothes, the rose petals crushed beneath her body — all of it mocking her. 
The glass of milk still sat untouched on the nightstand.
The honey jar lay on its side. 

That's the moment, 
Bharath panicked, Mirna cried but one person smiled, he know its his victory.. 

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 137 – Vikram punishes Mirna.


Chennai – Guest Room – 11:35 PM

Mirnaa lay motionless for several long seconds after the door slammed shut.

The room was still beautifully decorated — rose petals scattered across the sheets, fairy lights twinkling softly, the brass lamp casting a warm golden glow. But it all felt grotesque now. The air smelled of jasmine, honey, and sex. Her body was still humming — pussy swollen, slick, aching from the sudden emptiness.

Bharath’s thick cock had been halfway inside her, stretching her, teasing her, promising to fill her completely… and then it was gone.

She slowly sat up. Legs shaky. Pussy still throbbing, aching from the sudden emptiness. His precum mixed with her own wetness leaked slowly from her entrance, trailing in a thin, glistening line down her inner thigh. 

She stared at it — the evidence of how close she had come to giving herself to him.

She stood. Naked. Walked to the door on unsteady legs. Saw her bra discarded near the threshold, her saree crumpled halfway down the hall — every piece of clothing a silent accusation. The scattered trail mocked her: the woman who had let herself be undressed piece by piece, who had begged him to take her.


She walked down the steps, bare feet cold on the marble, and entered the master bedroom.

Vikram was sitting on the edge of the bed  
He looked up at her — calm, steady, no judgment in his eyes.
Came soon why ?
“Did you find out he didn’t love you?”

Mirnaa looked at him — tears flooding down her face, body trembling, still naked, still leaking.
“I’m sorry…”

She knelt on the floor in front of him. 
Hands clasped together in front of her face — submissive, broken, ashamed.

Vikram rose. Took her arms. 
Gently pulled her up. 
Hugged her tight against his chest — one hand cradling the back of her head, the other around her waist, 
pressing her naked body to his clothed one.

“All right,” he said softly. “I still love you.”

He held her while she cried — raw, wrenching sobs shaking her whole body. 
She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in her world.

Then he pulled back slightly — looked into her eyes.
“Now tell me… who really loved you?”

She cried louder — voice hoarse, broken.
“You…”

Vikram’s voice stayed calm.

“But for disobeying, for distrusting me, 
for behaving in a way that broke our marriage…
I need to punish you.”

Mirnaa looked up — eyes red, but steady.

“Do whatever you want to do with me. Even if you throw me out,  I will accept.”

Vikram pushed her forcibly onto the bed.
My punishment is different...


“I’ve always been soft with you. Now you’ve been trained. 
Let me unleash my skill.”

He spread her legs wide. Entered her in one hard, deep push — thick, 
claiming, stretching her still-sensitive pussy in a single thrust.

Mirnaa gasped — pain and pleasure crashing together, 
body still slick from Bharath’s precum.

He smiled — dark, possessive.
“Where was this Vikram all these years?” he mind said...

She was still not believing vikram punishment all about this

Vikram opened: See you no need to find love out side and even sex when you have me.. 



He began to move — slow at first, deliberate, letting her feel every thick inch sliding in and out of her still-sensitive pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of their joining filled the room immediately — slick flesh slapping softly, her arousal coating him, dripping down her inner thighs and onto the sheets. Mirnaa moaned — low, broken, voice cracking on every deep thrust. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into his skin as her body jolted beneath him.



Vikram’s pace quickened — harder, deeper, relentless. Each powerful stroke drove the air from her lungs, made her breasts bounce wildly, nipples stiff and dark against his chest. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other sliding down to grip her hip, angling her so he hit that spot inside her that made her gasp and arch.


“Look at me,” he ordered, voice rough, almost a growl.

Mirnaa’s eyes fluttered open — glassy, tear-streaked, pupils blown wide with pleasure and shame. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear.
“I always feared hurting you,” he murmured, thrusting particularly deep, making her cry out. “

Now I see you can sustain. Get ready to learn from me.”

He fucked her for nearly an hour like that — unyielding, possessive rhythm. Slow grinds turning into brutal slams. Her pussy clenched around him rhythmically, milking him, betraying how badly her body wanted this even as her mind reeled. She came twice — the first one sudden and shattering, thighs shaking, a keening sob tearing from her throat as she called his name. The second was slower, deeper, rolling through her like a wave until she was trembling, oversensitive, begging incoherently.


Then he pulled out — cock glistening, veins pulsing — and flipped her onto her stomach in one swift motion.
“On your knees.”

She obeyed instantly — ass raised high, face pressed into the pillow, back arched in offering. Vikram knelt behind her, spread her cheeks wide with both hands. He spat directly onto her tight, puckered asshole — warm and slick. Mirnaa whimpered, body tensing.


He pushed two fingers inside first — no preamble, stretching her slowly but firmly. 
The burn was immediate, sharp. 
She cried out into the pillow.
“Vikram… it hurts…”

He didn’t stop. He worked his fingers deeper, scissoring gently, opening her. When she was panting, trembling, he replaced them with the blunt head of his cock. He pushed — slow, relentless, inexorable. 
The thick crown breached her ass, stretching her impossibly. 
Mirnaa sobbed — real pain now, tears soaking the fabric beneath her cheek.

“Breathe,” he commanded, voice low and dark. “Take it for me.”

He sank in deeper — inch by burning inch — until his hips pressed flush against her ass. She was shaking, whimpering, body fighting the intrusion even as her pussy clenched emptily below. Vikram gripped her hips hard enough to bruise — fresh red marks blooming on her golden skin — and started fucking her ass with deep, steady thrusts.

Each stroke dragged a new cry from her throat. Pain slowly, treacherously, began mixing with dark, forbidden pleasure. Her body learned him — adjusted, opened, took him. He leaned over her, chest to her back, one hand sliding around to rub furious circles on her clit.


“Who loves you?” he growled against her ear, hips snapping harder. “Remember who loves you.”


She sobbed, voice muffled in the pillow.
“You… you…”


“Say my name.”
“Vikram… Vikram… please…”


He fucked her harder — punishing, claiming her completely. Her ass clenched around him rhythmically, milking him even as tears streamed down her face. She came like that — ass impaled, clit throbbing under his fingers — a violent, shaking orgasm that left her screaming his name into the sheets.


After another hour of relentless anal he pulled out — cock slick and shining — and flipped her again. Prone bone. He lay fully on top of her, heavy, chest to her back, weight pinning her to the mattress. He slid back into her pussy in one long stroke — deeper angle now, every thrust grinding against her cervix.

He fucked her like that — slow, grinding rolls of his hips that pressed her clit against the bed, forcing friction with every movement. His mouth found the side of her neck — biting, sucking, leaving dark purple marks that would bloom into bruises by morning. Fresh claim marks on her throat, her shoulders, the tops of her breasts — territory reclaimed.

“Who loves you?” he repeated, voice rough, breath hot against her ear.
“Vikram… only Vikram…”

She came again — screaming his name, body convulsing beneath him, inner walls fluttering wildly around his cock. He didn’t stop. He kept going — heavy, grinding thrusts that dragged out her pleasure until she was sobbing, oversensitive, begging.

“Please… Vikram… too much…”
He kissed the tears from her cheek.

“You can take it. You’re always mine.”

They fucked for nearly four hours straight — switching positions, holes, rhythms. He came inside her pussy twice — hot, thick pulses that overflowed and leaked down her thighs. Once in her ass — deep, claiming spurts that made her whimper. Once across her breasts — painting her skin with white ropes that glistened in the lamplight.

By the end they were both breathless, sweat-soaked, exhausted. Mirnaa lay sprawled on her back — legs still spread, body marked with bites, handprints, cum, tears. Her pussy and ass were swollen, red, leaking. Vikram collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. She curled against his chest — completely surrendered, trembling, whispering his name like a prayer.


“Vikram… only you…”
He held her tight — breathing hard, heart pounding against hers.
He felt a breath of relief finally.
He posssively kissed her forehead.. 

He finally felt fine.
He just wished he could come clean before her soon. It was crucial after this. He knew it.
But he also knew he had to wait — until Bharath fully took his bait with Manya.
He knows the game had not ended, it will end only when he comes clean to mirna.. only when he stay away from dark network. 

For now Vikram won, the punishment he have wont be unforgettable. 

[Muralimm]

This is unpredictable suprise Bharat was win by entering on her

At that point the call from Manya I expect this earlier but you posted on right time

This is the braking point of mirna to think again on her

Super suspense thriller story time man

[heygiwriter]

Continuation :


The house had gone quiet hours ago. Mirnaa was asleep in their bed — curled on her side, breathing slow and even, body still marked from the night. Fresh bruises bloomed on her hips, throat, breasts — dark purple fingerprints and bite marks that would take days to fade. She had fallen asleep against Vikram’s chest, exhausted, spent, whispering his name one last time before sleep took her.

Vikram hadn’t slept.

He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, one arm around her protectively. The phone on the nightstand buzzed once — soft, muted. He glanced at the screen.

Swathi.
He carefully slid his arm from under Mirnaa. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. He slipped out of bed, pulled on a robe, and padded barefoot to the rooftop terrace.
The night air was cool, salty, the sea black and endless below. He closed the glass door behind him, leaned against the railing, and answered.
“Swathi.”

Her voice came through — quiet, concerned.
“All went as planned?”

Vikram exhaled slowly, looking out over the dark water.
“Yes. All went as planned.”


He glanced back toward the bedroom door — still closed, light off.
“Yeah. She’s asleep now.”

Swathi’s tone softened, almost hesitant.

“Why did you hurt Mirnaa so much mentally? You could have stopped this earlier. 
Introduced Manya weeks ago. Let Bharath see his own trap snap shut before it got this far.”

Vikram’s fingers tightened on the railing.

“If I had done that… she would never have understood. Not fully. Bharath would have twisted it — claimed Manya never loved him, that she was lying, that he could still win her back. He would have come crawling back with more lies, more drama. 

Mirnaa would have wavered again. Doubting me. Doubting herself.”
She would not have a chance to feel all the love dramas are fake..

He paused. The wind carried the faint crash of waves.

“This way… she saw his real face. The man who neglects her at the tip of sex. The man who abandons her naked and open the second his old flame calls. Will a man like that truly love her? No. She saw it. Felt it. In the worst possible way.”
She would never trust him back 

I wanted to punish her this way so she will remind, 
remind her failure, her judgments she must crawl back to me for every decision.. 


Swathi was quiet for a moment.
“You wanted her to break so she could see.”

“I wanted her to know,” Vikram said calmly. “Not suspect. Not wonder. Know. I controlled every move. Waited for the right time. Let her fall far enough that the truth would hit like a blade. Now she won’t doubt again.”

Another pause.
“Any update from Manya?”
“Not yet,” Swathi said. “She’ll handle it. She’s stronger than she looks.”
Vikram nodded to himself.
“Take care of her. I’ll speak to her in the morning.”
Swathi’s voice softened further.
“You okay?”
He looked back toward the bedroom — where Mirnaa slept, marked, claimed, finally his again.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Good night.”
He ended the call.
For a long moment he stood there — wind ruffling his robe, sea whispering below. He looked down at the dark water, then back at the house.
He had won.
But the game wasn’t over yet.
He slipped back inside, locked the terrace door, and returned to bed. Mirnaa stirred as he slid under the covers. She turned instinctively toward him, curling into his chest, still half-asleep.
He wrapped his arms around her — tight, possessive.
She sighed softly — content, safe.
Vikram stared at the ceiling again.
He knew he had to come clean soon. Tell her everything

He is waiting for a perfect time

[heygiwriter]

This is unpredictable suprise Bharat was win by entering on her

At that point the call from Manya I expect this earlier but you posted on right time

This is the braking point of mirna to think again on her

Super suspense thriller story time man

Thanks

[jiivawonderland]

What an update.. 

Vikram punished mirna sweetly.

What will bharath do now? update soon

[aravindkkumar08]

Hey bro each story episode is solid worth it. Once I thought Bharat will win but nice plan. Now shifted to one week challenge to Manya story. Hope mirnaa will not cheat Vikram

[Muralimm]

In your narration every episode make to think any one what next?

So what next