22-12-2025, 10:27 PM
Chapter 20 – The Drive Home (Prem’s POV)
Prem gripped the steering wheel of their old Swift, the engine humming steadily as they left Ruban’s place..
His mind was still reeling.
The conference room. Ruban’s questions. Aaravind’s smug face turning to stone.
And Nivi.
His Nivi.
Answering like she’d been doing this for years. Calm. Sharp. Brilliant.
He glanced at her in the passenger seat.
She was looking out the window, a small smile playing on her lips — the kind he hadn’t seen in a long time. Not since college, maybe. When she used to talk about starting her own company, eyes bright with plans.
She looked… happy.
Really happy.
Speaking with Ruban. With Rohan.
He felt a strange mix in his chest — pride, yes, but something else too.
Guilt?
He had restricted her all these years. For safety. For Aara. For the family.
Men like Aaravind, Prakash, Rakesh — they were out there.
He had seen what they could do.
But today…
Working in the office — with him, with staff around — was that really dangerous?
Safer than home alone, even.
Why was he always overthinking?
The Mercedes pulling away caught his eye in the rear-view mirror.
Rohan’s car.
Shining, expensive, effortless.
Prem blinked.
“That car… it’s Rohan’s?”
Nivi turned, following his gaze. “Yes.”
Prem shook his head slowly. “How does he have that kind of money? He seemed so… normal. Simple shirt, no show-off. His portfolio didn’t look that flashy either. I thought he just had networks.”
Nivi took a deep breath, her voice soft but sure.
“He has focus, Prem. That’s how.”
Prem glanced at her.
She continued, eyes on the road ahead. “Ever since we met him, he’s been on point. Never distracted. Never wasted time on too many stories. He sees business. Possibilities. Nothing else.”
She smiled faintly. “If we focus like that… one day you might drive a Lamborghini. And I’ll take a Ferrari.”
They both laughed — light, real.
Prem felt the tension ease.
Yes.
Rohan never crossed a line. Never tried to be too friendly. Practical. Professional.
That’s why the contacts were gold.
He was the real deal.
Prem reached over, squeezed her hand.
“You were brilliant today, Nivi.”
She looked at him, eyes warm. “Are you happy with my performance?”
He started to say more, but the words caught.
He nodded instead. “I’m happy.”
Then, quieter: “Rohan wants you in all future client meetings. If we get busy — and at this rate, we will — I’ll be deep in operations. Can you manage the pitch side?”
Nivi’s smile grew — genuine, bright.
“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.”
She leaned over, kissed his cheek. “Thank you. And thank Rohan.”
Home wasn’t far now.
As they pulled into the gate, Nivi’s phone was already in her hand.
She typed quickly.
Thanks for today.
Sent.
To Rohan.
Across the city, in his penthouse, Rohan’s phone lit up.
He read the message.Smiled.
Didn’t reply. Not yet.
He knew when to react.
When not to.
Calm. Cool.
Planning the next move. The clients were coming.
The meetings would be private. Often. And Nivi would be there.
Every time.
Prem gripped the steering wheel of their old Swift, the engine humming steadily as they left Ruban’s place..
His mind was still reeling.
The conference room. Ruban’s questions. Aaravind’s smug face turning to stone.
And Nivi.
His Nivi.
Answering like she’d been doing this for years. Calm. Sharp. Brilliant.
He glanced at her in the passenger seat.
She was looking out the window, a small smile playing on her lips — the kind he hadn’t seen in a long time. Not since college, maybe. When she used to talk about starting her own company, eyes bright with plans.
She looked… happy.
Really happy.
Speaking with Ruban. With Rohan.
He felt a strange mix in his chest — pride, yes, but something else too.
Guilt?
He had restricted her all these years. For safety. For Aara. For the family.
Men like Aaravind, Prakash, Rakesh — they were out there.
He had seen what they could do.
But today…
Working in the office — with him, with staff around — was that really dangerous?
Safer than home alone, even.
Why was he always overthinking?
The Mercedes pulling away caught his eye in the rear-view mirror.
Rohan’s car.
Shining, expensive, effortless.
Prem blinked.
“That car… it’s Rohan’s?”
Nivi turned, following his gaze. “Yes.”
Prem shook his head slowly. “How does he have that kind of money? He seemed so… normal. Simple shirt, no show-off. His portfolio didn’t look that flashy either. I thought he just had networks.”
Nivi took a deep breath, her voice soft but sure.
“He has focus, Prem. That’s how.”
Prem glanced at her.
She continued, eyes on the road ahead. “Ever since we met him, he’s been on point. Never distracted. Never wasted time on too many stories. He sees business. Possibilities. Nothing else.”
She smiled faintly. “If we focus like that… one day you might drive a Lamborghini. And I’ll take a Ferrari.”
They both laughed — light, real.
Prem felt the tension ease.
Yes.
Rohan never crossed a line. Never tried to be too friendly. Practical. Professional.
That’s why the contacts were gold.
He was the real deal.
Prem reached over, squeezed her hand.
“You were brilliant today, Nivi.”
She looked at him, eyes warm. “Are you happy with my performance?”
He started to say more, but the words caught.
He nodded instead. “I’m happy.”
Then, quieter: “Rohan wants you in all future client meetings. If we get busy — and at this rate, we will — I’ll be deep in operations. Can you manage the pitch side?”
Nivi’s smile grew — genuine, bright.
“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this.”
She leaned over, kissed his cheek. “Thank you. And thank Rohan.”
Home wasn’t far now.
As they pulled into the gate, Nivi’s phone was already in her hand.
She typed quickly.
Thanks for today.
Sent.
To Rohan.
Across the city, in his penthouse, Rohan’s phone lit up.
He read the message.Smiled.
Didn’t reply. Not yet.
He knew when to react.
When not to.
Calm. Cool.
Planning the next move. The clients were coming.
The meetings would be private. Often. And Nivi would be there.
Every time.
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