22-12-2025, 11:29 PM
Chapter 23 – The Luxury Trap
The Mercedes glided into the underground parking of a towering glass building in the heart of Chennai’s most exclusive neighbourhood.
Prem’s Swift followed behind, looking small and ordinary next to it.
Rohan led them to the private elevator — biometric scan, soft chime, direct to the penthouse floor.
The doors opened into the apartment.
Prem stopped dead.
Nivi’s breath caught.
Aara’s eyes went wide.
It wasn’t an apartment.
It was a palace in the sky.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city lights and distant sea. Marble floors that gleamed under recessed lighting. Open-plan living with sleek Italian furniture, art on the walls that looked like they belonged in galleries. A kitchen bigger than their old house. Infinity pool on the terrace visible through sliding glass.
No one would say no to this place.
Rich. Mighty. Untouchable.
Prem turned to Rohan, voice low. “Who are you, actually?”
Rohan smiled, casual, pouring water from a crystal jug.
“At the rate your company is performing, three years down the line you’ll buy bigger than this.” He handed glasses to Prem and Nivi. “I’ve received twenty lakhs in the last two months just from your company. Why can’t it grow more with my expertise across twenty-plus companies?”
Prem blinked, processing.
Nivi looked around, silent, but her eyes took in every detail.
Rohan showed them the guest wing — two large bedrooms connected by a sitting area, attached baths, walk-in closets already stocked with fresh linens.
Aara’s room had toys waiting — someone had prepared.
“Your space,” Rohan said simply. “Make it home.”
He bid good night and disappeared into the master wing.
The door closed softly behind him.
Next morning, over breakfast on the terrace — fresh fruits, idlis prepared by the silent house staff — Prem spoke first.
“I’ll start looking for a house today. Rental first.”
Rohan sipped his coffee, gazing at the sea.
“Don’t look for rental. Buy one. Don’t shift things twice. Let’s get you a proper house in a month. Until then, stay here.”
You are running a company now that deals business in crores and you don’t want to own a house. Ridiculous.. Plus assets can be useful in business for loans..
He smiled, easy. “I’m all alone anyway. My wife’s in Kerala with the kids.”
Prem smiled back, grateful. “Thank you. Again.”
Rohan set his cup down.
Then, casual as weather talk:
“I’m starting a new company. Marketing focused. It would be great if Nivi came in as partner. Her face is the star in the market now. I’ll fund 50%. What do you say?”
Prem paused.
Rohan continued smoothly. “Two entities — tax efficient. If you build an in-house marketing team, you pay full taxes, salaries. This way, money flows outside but stays ours. My auditor suggested it.”
Prem listened carefully.
Rohan stood. “I’ll visit your office this afternoon. Some outside work first.”
He handed spare keycards to both Prem and Nivi.
“Use the place as yours.”
Then left.
In the car, after dropping Aara at college, Prem driving, Nivi beside him.
He spoke first.
“Let’s give it a try. The new marketing startup.”
Nivi looked at him.
No big smile.
She knew.
It wasn’t Prem deciding. It was necessity. Rohan had made it inevitable.
But still. Her dream. Coming true.
That night, in their guest bedroom — doors to Rohan’s wing just down the hall — Nivi’s phone lit up.
Message from Rohan.
Hope all went the way we wanted. Bangalore next week — one night stay, two meetings. Get ready. When we return, we’ll have a new company in our name.
Nivi read it twice.
Smiled in the dark.
The kind of smile she hadn’t worn in years.
The dream wasn’t just coming true. It was hers now. And his.
The Mercedes glided into the underground parking of a towering glass building in the heart of Chennai’s most exclusive neighbourhood.
Prem’s Swift followed behind, looking small and ordinary next to it.
Rohan led them to the private elevator — biometric scan, soft chime, direct to the penthouse floor.
The doors opened into the apartment.
Prem stopped dead.
Nivi’s breath caught.
Aara’s eyes went wide.
It wasn’t an apartment.
It was a palace in the sky.
Floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city lights and distant sea. Marble floors that gleamed under recessed lighting. Open-plan living with sleek Italian furniture, art on the walls that looked like they belonged in galleries. A kitchen bigger than their old house. Infinity pool on the terrace visible through sliding glass.
No one would say no to this place.
Rich. Mighty. Untouchable.
Prem turned to Rohan, voice low. “Who are you, actually?”
Rohan smiled, casual, pouring water from a crystal jug.
“At the rate your company is performing, three years down the line you’ll buy bigger than this.” He handed glasses to Prem and Nivi. “I’ve received twenty lakhs in the last two months just from your company. Why can’t it grow more with my expertise across twenty-plus companies?”
Prem blinked, processing.
Nivi looked around, silent, but her eyes took in every detail.
Rohan showed them the guest wing — two large bedrooms connected by a sitting area, attached baths, walk-in closets already stocked with fresh linens.
Aara’s room had toys waiting — someone had prepared.
“Your space,” Rohan said simply. “Make it home.”
He bid good night and disappeared into the master wing.
The door closed softly behind him.
Next morning, over breakfast on the terrace — fresh fruits, idlis prepared by the silent house staff — Prem spoke first.
“I’ll start looking for a house today. Rental first.”
Rohan sipped his coffee, gazing at the sea.
“Don’t look for rental. Buy one. Don’t shift things twice. Let’s get you a proper house in a month. Until then, stay here.”
You are running a company now that deals business in crores and you don’t want to own a house. Ridiculous.. Plus assets can be useful in business for loans..
He smiled, easy. “I’m all alone anyway. My wife’s in Kerala with the kids.”
Prem smiled back, grateful. “Thank you. Again.”
Rohan set his cup down.
Then, casual as weather talk:
“I’m starting a new company. Marketing focused. It would be great if Nivi came in as partner. Her face is the star in the market now. I’ll fund 50%. What do you say?”
Prem paused.
Rohan continued smoothly. “Two entities — tax efficient. If you build an in-house marketing team, you pay full taxes, salaries. This way, money flows outside but stays ours. My auditor suggested it.”
Prem listened carefully.
Rohan stood. “I’ll visit your office this afternoon. Some outside work first.”
He handed spare keycards to both Prem and Nivi.
“Use the place as yours.”
Then left.
In the car, after dropping Aara at college, Prem driving, Nivi beside him.
He spoke first.
“Let’s give it a try. The new marketing startup.”
Nivi looked at him.
No big smile.
She knew.
It wasn’t Prem deciding. It was necessity. Rohan had made it inevitable.
But still. Her dream. Coming true.
That night, in their guest bedroom — doors to Rohan’s wing just down the hall — Nivi’s phone lit up.
Message from Rohan.
Hope all went the way we wanted. Bangalore next week — one night stay, two meetings. Get ready. When we return, we’ll have a new company in our name.
Nivi read it twice.
Smiled in the dark.
The kind of smile she hadn’t worn in years.
The dream wasn’t just coming true. It was hers now. And his.
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