Adultery The Swamiji

[shailu4ever]

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Inside, a quiet alarm rang. The evening continued. She smiled, conversed, dazzled — yet the polished laughter, subtle remarks, and glances suggested walls closing in. They weren’t asking. They were circling.
 
As she turned to leave, her heels clicked softly against the polished marble. The night air met her like a cool whisper — it should have been refreshing after chandeliers and velvet voices, yet felt heavier, like a pause before a storm.
 
 
Kabir guided her gently, coordinating with the driver, while her bouncers flanked her with quiet precision. Their presence, strong and steady, had always been enough. But tonight, Riha felt the invisible gaze of the world pressing harder against her back.
 
Almost at the door, Minister Deshmukh’s voice floated after her:
“Riha ji… the world you shine in… it adores you, yes. But remember — adoration is a tricky thing. The same hands that clap today can reach out tomorrow for something more.”
 
The words landed gently, but tightened her breath. She paused, turned back with a courteous smile:
“I will remember that, Deshmukh saab.” Her voice perfectly poised, even as a strange shiver rippled under her skin.
 
He added, almost lazily, yet cutting deeper:
“Of course, you’re fortunate… not everyone has such loyal people around them. The strongest chains, they say, are broken from within.”
 
The words clung to her long after the car door shut. Leather and silence wrapped around her as the city lights blurred past. Kabir sat beside her, focused on his phone, face half-lit by its glow. All appeared steady. All seemed safe.
 
Yet Deshmukh’s warning burrowed in like a thorn. For the first time, she looked at the faces in her own circle — the driver, Kabir, the men in the SUV — and wondered: what if the danger was not outside, but sitting right next to her?
 
The car hummed down the quiet stretch of Peddar Road, city lights scattering like restless stars. Riha leaned back, shawl drawn tight, Deshmukh’s words still coiling in her mind:
The same hands that clap today can reach out tomorrow for something more.
The strongest chains are broken from within.
 
Her gaze flicked toward Kabir. Phone in hand, calm, efficient — yet she noticed the subtle detail: he wasn’t scrolling. He was watching her, quietly, steadily.
 
When their eyes met, he shifted instantly, thumb gliding across the screen, a faint smile in place.
“Everything alright, madam?” he asked smoothly, voice warm, practiced.
 
Riha returned the smile, though her throat tightened.
“Yes, Kabir. Just a long evening.”
 
That fraction of a second — when his gaze had lingered, unreadable — echoed louder than words. Was it nothing? A trick of glass? Nerves? Or was Deshmukh right — could shadows creep even within the circle she trusted most?
 
Her eyes closed, rest refused her. The city rolled by, glittering and deceptive, while inside the car silence stretched like a blade.
 
For the first time in years, Riha felt less like a star carried home safely… and more like a jewel being watched.
 
Somewhere, in the shadows of the city she thought she commanded, a presence lingered, patient, deliberate, and unseen. And Riha, even wrapped in luxury and security, felt the first tremor of a truth she could not yet name: tonight, the game had only just begun.
 

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