18-12-2025, 09:55 PM
Chapter 2 – Old Scars, New Fears
Prem sat rigid in the leather chair, the air-conditioning suddenly too cold.
Aaravind leaned forward, fingers steepled, that same old half-smile playing on his lips.
“Small world, isn’t it?” he said, voice smooth as ever.
His eyes flicked to the scar — just a thin white line now — then back to Prem.
“You look… tired, man. Life treating you well?”
Prem’s throat tightened. The room felt smaller.
“The deal,” Prem managed. “We’re here to talk about the outsourcing contract.”
Aaravind nodded slowly, opening a folder. “Of course. Solid proposal. Good margins. We like backing fresh talent.”
He paused, eyes narrowing with mock concern.
“How’s Nivi these days? Still as beautiful as ever, I bet.”
The name hit Prem like a slap.
He saw it in a flash — Aaravind’s hands on her waist that day, her struggling, the blood on the floor.
Prem stood abruptly. “I… I’ve changed my mind.”
Aaravind raised an eyebrow. “Changed your mind? We’re ready to sign today.”
“I’ll find another partner.”
He turned and walked out before Aaravind could reply, heart hammering, palms sweating.
In the car, the excitement of the morning was gone. Replaced by a sick, familiar churn.
He asked about Nivi. First thing. He still wants her. This whole deal was just a way back in.
Prem drove, not toward home, but toward the old trading office in T. Nagar.
He needed to talk to someone who understood. Someone who had been there from the beginning.
Pratap . his old boss.
The man who gave him his first real job after the elopement. Who helped find their tiny rental when they had nothing. Who stood by them like family when Prem’s own father slammed the door forever.
Pratap’s cabin was the same — cluttered desk, filter coffee smell, faded photos on the wall.
“Prem!” Pratap stood, broad smile, warm hug. “What a surprise. Sit, sit. Coffee?”
Prem sank into the chair, the weight of the morning crashing down.
Pratap studied him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Prem exhaled. “Aaravind. The CFO I was meeting — it’s him. College Aaravind.”
Pratap’s face puzzling?
So what? You should be happy meeting this guy right? He would have helped you .
Prem said no.
Pratap: Is he a enemy from past?.
Prem remained silent
Prem sat rigid in the leather chair, the air-conditioning suddenly too cold.
Aaravind leaned forward, fingers steepled, that same old half-smile playing on his lips.
“Small world, isn’t it?” he said, voice smooth as ever.
His eyes flicked to the scar — just a thin white line now — then back to Prem.
“You look… tired, man. Life treating you well?”
Prem’s throat tightened. The room felt smaller.
“The deal,” Prem managed. “We’re here to talk about the outsourcing contract.”
Aaravind nodded slowly, opening a folder. “Of course. Solid proposal. Good margins. We like backing fresh talent.”
He paused, eyes narrowing with mock concern.
“How’s Nivi these days? Still as beautiful as ever, I bet.”
The name hit Prem like a slap.
He saw it in a flash — Aaravind’s hands on her waist that day, her struggling, the blood on the floor.
Prem stood abruptly. “I… I’ve changed my mind.”
Aaravind raised an eyebrow. “Changed your mind? We’re ready to sign today.”
“I’ll find another partner.”
He turned and walked out before Aaravind could reply, heart hammering, palms sweating.
In the car, the excitement of the morning was gone. Replaced by a sick, familiar churn.
He asked about Nivi. First thing. He still wants her. This whole deal was just a way back in.
Prem drove, not toward home, but toward the old trading office in T. Nagar.
He needed to talk to someone who understood. Someone who had been there from the beginning.
Pratap . his old boss.
The man who gave him his first real job after the elopement. Who helped find their tiny rental when they had nothing. Who stood by them like family when Prem’s own father slammed the door forever.
Pratap’s cabin was the same — cluttered desk, filter coffee smell, faded photos on the wall.
“Prem!” Pratap stood, broad smile, warm hug. “What a surprise. Sit, sit. Coffee?”
Prem sank into the chair, the weight of the morning crashing down.
Pratap studied him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Prem exhaled. “Aaravind. The CFO I was meeting — it’s him. College Aaravind.”
Pratap’s face puzzling?
So what? You should be happy meeting this guy right? He would have helped you .
Prem said no.
Pratap: Is he a enemy from past?.
Prem remained silent
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