22-12-2025, 07:26 PM
Chapter 15 – Nivi and Rohan’s Chase begun!
The seaside garden restaurant on ECR was quiet for a weekday afternoon—waves crashing in the distance, frangipani petals scattered on the wooden tables, the salt breeze carrying the scent of the sea.
Prem and Nivi arrived a few minutes late, Prem apologising as they sat. Aara was with a neighbour for the day—Prem had insisted it be just the three of them.
Introductions were brief. Rohan shook Prem’s hand firmly, then Nivi’s—his grip warm, lingering half a second longer than necessary, though his face stayed neutral.
Prem couldn’t hold it in. “Who are you, really?” How did you offend largebase solutions and got back my contract..
Rohan leaned back, ordered a fresh lime soda, dragged the moment.
“An investor, basically.” A small smile. “I don’t always bring money. I bring connections. Assets. People. I make others invest in startups—or any business that interests me. They pay me one-time, or they give shares. Either way, my business runs.”
The foods arrived and they spoke as they proceed with dinner.
Prem nodded, impressed but still curious. “Then why follow Aaravind so relentlessly for a deal?”
Rohan’s eyes flicked with amusement. “Aaravind never gave me a chance to speak who I was. From the first word, he decided I was a mid-level tech guy.” He looked at Prem pointedly. “Like you did.”
Prem flushed. “Sorry. Really.”
Rohan waved it off. “It’s okay. But in business, let the other guy speak too.”
Nivi had been watching carefully, listening to every word. Rohan felt her gaze—steady, thoughtful. He met it once or twice, held it, then looked away.
Prem, eager to move on, leaned forward. “I have big dreams. The clients you unblocked—they’re small. Companies like Largebase are the real targets.”
Rohan sipped his drink. “If you have a proper, scalable model, you can crack anything.”
Prem’s eyes lit up. “If you’re interested, I can explain. My model is the real deal.”
Rohan gestured. “I’m all ears.” If it impresses i will get you clients..
Prem launched in—technical details, cost structures, delivery pipelines, margins. He spoke with passion, hands moving, convinced he was selling the future.
Rohan listened, asked sharp questions—edge cases, scalability bottlenecks, competition. Prem answered well, but stumbled on one: “And how do you convince a sceptical client this is better than the ten other firms pitching the same thing?”
Silence.
Nivi spoke for the first time, voice calm, clear.
“You don’t sell the model. You sell the outcome. The client isn’t buying code—they’re buying certainty. That their product launches on time, that bugs won’t bleed money, that their investors will see growth, not excuses. You tell the story of how we saved a startup from collapse, how we became their unseen backbone. You make them feel they’re choosing safety and ambition, not just a vendor.”
Prem turned to her, surprised.
Rohan’s expression didn’t change, but inside something shifted.
Impressed didn’t cover it.
Prem thought … She had barely heard the details last night—snatches of conversation at home—yet she had distilled it into something a boardroom would buy in minutes.
Rohan breaks the silence..
He looked at Prem. “You handle operations and delivery. Let Nivi handle pitches—or let her teach you behind closed doors.”
Prem laughed, a little forced. “I developed the model. Won’t I be able to sell it?”
Rohan didn’t smile. “That’s the point. You can build it. Doesn’t mean you can sell it.”
Prem’s laugh faded. He looked at Nivi again, really looked—as if seeing something new.
Prem continued. “Will you be interested in joining me? Get me clients.” Prem said . “I can pay upfront for clients.”
Rohan considered. “Good. I’ll bring some—if the math works.”
Prem offered 5% equity.
Rohan countered 10%.
They settled at 8%.
Nivi spoke quietly. “6%. Fair for connections and risk.”
Both men turned to her.
Rohan’s eyes held hers again—longer this time.
She didn’t look away.
He smiled, small. “6%.”
Rohan stood. “Next week, prepare. I’m bringing better clients. It’s up to you to make it work. Don’t spoil the brief like you did today.” He looked at Prem, then Nivi. “Either Nivi handles it… or she teaches you behind walls. I need results. Don’t waste my clients.”
For the first time.. Nivi felt like someone was seeing her worth.. Someone acknowledging her talent.. In most professional way she can get .. Rohan is not trying to impress he is just stating the fact both prem and nivi can sense it..
As lunch was done… Rohan stood up
He nodded goodbye and walked toward the parking.
They followed moments later.
Then the sky broke.
Sudden, heavy Chennai rain—pouring like a curtain.
The open garden offered little cover. Guests scattered, running for sheds and awnings.
Prem grabbed Nivi’s hand. “I’ll bring the car to that side—wait under the shed!”
Nivi ran toward the nearest shelter, saree already soaking.
The light blue cotton turned translucent in seconds—clinging to every curve. Her sky-blue blouse and contrast bra dark against wet fabric, clearly visible. Hair plastered to her neck, water streaming down fair skin.
Men nearby turned. Eyes lingered.
Rohan, already under the main awning, saw it all.
Something snapped inside him.
Not just beauty.
Power.
A woman who commanded a table without trying, who had been hidden, caged—and now, drenched, unshielded, radiant.
His body reacted before his mind—hard, sudden, undeniable. Right there in public.
He didn’t care.
He walked out into the rain, suit jacket in hand, straight to her.
Nivi looked up, surprised, water dripping from her lashes.
“No, thank you—” she started.
He didn’t ask. Politely, firmly, dbangd the heavy overcoat over her shoulders, covering her completely.
“I’ll collect it later,” he said, voice low, eyes intense.
Prem’s car pulled up. Rohan opened the door for her, took back his wet coat as she slid in.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
The car pulled away.
Rohan stood in the rain a moment longer.
His Mercedes arrived.
He got in, closed the door.
The image burned behind his eyes—wet saree clinging, curves outlined, that quiet fire now mixed with raw, natural sensuality.
For the first time in years, he wanted more than a night.
He wanted to possess her.
Body. Mind. Fire.
All of it.
As Prem drove home, Nivi wiped her face with tissue, opened the dashboard mirror to check her bindi.
She saw it then—how visible her bra had been against the wet saree.
She realised why Rohan had come out in the rain.
Not to stare.
To cover her.
In a world where men like Aaravind, Prakash (she has a doubt), Rakesh had only ever tried to take—
Rohan had protected her dignity without being asked.
For a moment, she felt… good.
Seen.
Safe.
And something else she couldn’t name yet.
Unknown to her, in the Mercedes trailing a few cars behind on ECR—
Rohan was already planning the next move.
The chase had truly begun. Nivi decided to explore this opportunity and chase her dream.. While Rohan’s chase is Nivi?
The seaside garden restaurant on ECR was quiet for a weekday afternoon—waves crashing in the distance, frangipani petals scattered on the wooden tables, the salt breeze carrying the scent of the sea.
Prem and Nivi arrived a few minutes late, Prem apologising as they sat. Aara was with a neighbour for the day—Prem had insisted it be just the three of them.
Introductions were brief. Rohan shook Prem’s hand firmly, then Nivi’s—his grip warm, lingering half a second longer than necessary, though his face stayed neutral.
Prem couldn’t hold it in. “Who are you, really?” How did you offend largebase solutions and got back my contract..
Rohan leaned back, ordered a fresh lime soda, dragged the moment.
“An investor, basically.” A small smile. “I don’t always bring money. I bring connections. Assets. People. I make others invest in startups—or any business that interests me. They pay me one-time, or they give shares. Either way, my business runs.”
The foods arrived and they spoke as they proceed with dinner.
Prem nodded, impressed but still curious. “Then why follow Aaravind so relentlessly for a deal?”
Rohan’s eyes flicked with amusement. “Aaravind never gave me a chance to speak who I was. From the first word, he decided I was a mid-level tech guy.” He looked at Prem pointedly. “Like you did.”
Prem flushed. “Sorry. Really.”
Rohan waved it off. “It’s okay. But in business, let the other guy speak too.”
Nivi had been watching carefully, listening to every word. Rohan felt her gaze—steady, thoughtful. He met it once or twice, held it, then looked away.
Prem, eager to move on, leaned forward. “I have big dreams. The clients you unblocked—they’re small. Companies like Largebase are the real targets.”
Rohan sipped his drink. “If you have a proper, scalable model, you can crack anything.”
Prem’s eyes lit up. “If you’re interested, I can explain. My model is the real deal.”
Rohan gestured. “I’m all ears.” If it impresses i will get you clients..
Prem launched in—technical details, cost structures, delivery pipelines, margins. He spoke with passion, hands moving, convinced he was selling the future.
Rohan listened, asked sharp questions—edge cases, scalability bottlenecks, competition. Prem answered well, but stumbled on one: “And how do you convince a sceptical client this is better than the ten other firms pitching the same thing?”
Silence.
Nivi spoke for the first time, voice calm, clear.
“You don’t sell the model. You sell the outcome. The client isn’t buying code—they’re buying certainty. That their product launches on time, that bugs won’t bleed money, that their investors will see growth, not excuses. You tell the story of how we saved a startup from collapse, how we became their unseen backbone. You make them feel they’re choosing safety and ambition, not just a vendor.”
Prem turned to her, surprised.
Rohan’s expression didn’t change, but inside something shifted.
Impressed didn’t cover it.
Prem thought … She had barely heard the details last night—snatches of conversation at home—yet she had distilled it into something a boardroom would buy in minutes.
Rohan breaks the silence..
He looked at Prem. “You handle operations and delivery. Let Nivi handle pitches—or let her teach you behind closed doors.”
Prem laughed, a little forced. “I developed the model. Won’t I be able to sell it?”
Rohan didn’t smile. “That’s the point. You can build it. Doesn’t mean you can sell it.”
Prem’s laugh faded. He looked at Nivi again, really looked—as if seeing something new.
Prem continued. “Will you be interested in joining me? Get me clients.” Prem said . “I can pay upfront for clients.”
Rohan considered. “Good. I’ll bring some—if the math works.”
Prem offered 5% equity.
Rohan countered 10%.
They settled at 8%.
Nivi spoke quietly. “6%. Fair for connections and risk.”
Both men turned to her.
Rohan’s eyes held hers again—longer this time.
She didn’t look away.
He smiled, small. “6%.”
Rohan stood. “Next week, prepare. I’m bringing better clients. It’s up to you to make it work. Don’t spoil the brief like you did today.” He looked at Prem, then Nivi. “Either Nivi handles it… or she teaches you behind walls. I need results. Don’t waste my clients.”
For the first time.. Nivi felt like someone was seeing her worth.. Someone acknowledging her talent.. In most professional way she can get .. Rohan is not trying to impress he is just stating the fact both prem and nivi can sense it..
As lunch was done… Rohan stood up
He nodded goodbye and walked toward the parking.
They followed moments later.
Then the sky broke.
Sudden, heavy Chennai rain—pouring like a curtain.
The open garden offered little cover. Guests scattered, running for sheds and awnings.
Prem grabbed Nivi’s hand. “I’ll bring the car to that side—wait under the shed!”
Nivi ran toward the nearest shelter, saree already soaking.
The light blue cotton turned translucent in seconds—clinging to every curve. Her sky-blue blouse and contrast bra dark against wet fabric, clearly visible. Hair plastered to her neck, water streaming down fair skin.
Men nearby turned. Eyes lingered.
Rohan, already under the main awning, saw it all.
Something snapped inside him.
Not just beauty.
Power.
A woman who commanded a table without trying, who had been hidden, caged—and now, drenched, unshielded, radiant.
His body reacted before his mind—hard, sudden, undeniable. Right there in public.
He didn’t care.
He walked out into the rain, suit jacket in hand, straight to her.
Nivi looked up, surprised, water dripping from her lashes.
“No, thank you—” she started.
He didn’t ask. Politely, firmly, dbangd the heavy overcoat over her shoulders, covering her completely.
“I’ll collect it later,” he said, voice low, eyes intense.
Prem’s car pulled up. Rohan opened the door for her, took back his wet coat as she slid in.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
The car pulled away.
Rohan stood in the rain a moment longer.
His Mercedes arrived.
He got in, closed the door.
The image burned behind his eyes—wet saree clinging, curves outlined, that quiet fire now mixed with raw, natural sensuality.
For the first time in years, he wanted more than a night.
He wanted to possess her.
Body. Mind. Fire.
All of it.
As Prem drove home, Nivi wiped her face with tissue, opened the dashboard mirror to check her bindi.
She saw it then—how visible her bra had been against the wet saree.
She realised why Rohan had come out in the rain.
Not to stare.
To cover her.
In a world where men like Aaravind, Prakash (she has a doubt), Rakesh had only ever tried to take—
Rohan had protected her dignity without being asked.
For a moment, she felt… good.
Seen.
Safe.
And something else she couldn’t name yet.
Unknown to her, in the Mercedes trailing a few cars behind on ECR—
Rohan was already planning the next move.
The chase had truly begun. Nivi decided to explore this opportunity and chase her dream.. While Rohan’s chase is Nivi?
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