Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

The rose's scent lingered in the air as she retreated to the kitchen.

Abhi grabbed his phone and texted Ishaan: "She just got a parcel from some unknown sender. A rose with a note... and she hid it."

Ishaan's reply was swift: "What? I told you she has secrets. Steal that note, bro. Find out what she is hiding."

Abhi's stomach dropped thinking, "Steal from mom? No way." But the question burned, "Who sent it? Was it Ishaan? or someone else?"

Later, when Madhuri went to change, Abhi crept to her bag, guilt clawing at his chest. The parcel was there, crumpled but intact. He unfolded the note with trembling fingers.

"You're too beautiful to fade away, Madhuri. I see you"

No signature, just spiky handwriting that didn't match Ishaan's. 

His mind spun, "What! Is someone watching her? Or was this Ishaan's trick?" He stuffed it back, heart hammering, and texted about the note.

Ishaan's response was a single word: "Interesting." Abhi sank onto the couch, the rose's echo haunting him.

Ishaan sprawled across his bed that evening, shirtless, the ceiling fan whirring lazily above him. 

His room was a mess, cricket gear in one corner, a half-empty protein shake on the desk.

Ishaan grinned, scrolling through his burner account, DevilzMask, still blocked. 

His phone pinged from Abhi. "Isn't that you with the rose?"

Ishaan chuckled, low and dark, thinking, "The kid was smarter than he looked, but not smart enough." 

He typed back: "No Sherlock, someone's after her. You gonna let them beat me to it? Dig up more," He hit send.

Across town that night, Madhuri sat in her vanity, hid the rose in a locked drawer using a small key, which she attached to her bracelet to ensure the note remained secret from Ramesh. 

Her pajama top hung loose, but her hands fidgeted, smoothing her hair over and over. The note had shaken her, not just the words, but the violation.

Someone knew her, saw her, and it wasn't Ramesh's tired gaze. She'd almost told him, but his snoring had stopped her.

"What's the point? He'd call me dramatic, or worse, jealous that someone noticed me when he didn't," she sighed in disbelief.

"Whoever you are, please leave me," she whispered to the mirror, but her reflection stared back, lips trembling, eyes glinting with something she refused to name.

The rose wasn't office junk, it was personal, invasive, and it stirred a heat she'd buried under years of duty. She locked the drawer tighter, as if that could lock away the feeling, then climbed into bed beside Ramesh, her body restless against the sheets.

Abhi watched through the door's narrow slit. He didn't trust Ishaan, not fully, but the rose wasn't his style. "Who could it be?" 

He grabbed his phone, and typed: "Mom's asleep now, but she seemed frightened and hid the rose."

Ishaan's reply was instant: "Then we must act quickly. Sneak me a pic of her tomorrow, something hot."

Abhi's breath caught gasping "A picture? That's too far." He couldn't, but his mind flashed to Madhuri in her dress that afternoon, the sweat on her collarbone.