Adultery Mirna – Vikram's Innocent Hotwife

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 34: Invitations & Shadows


“Akka… thank you… thank you…” she whispered, voice muffled and trembling.
Shiney hugged her back tightly, stroking her hair like she did when Mirna was small. Then she pulled back, cupped Mirna’s face, and smiled—soft, apologetic.


“I lied to you, kanna,” she said gently. “The watchman story, the doctor story—all made up. I was just testing him. And testing you. I needed to see how naive you really are… how easily someone could twist your heart. And I needed to see if he would break under pressure or stand firm.”


Mirna blinked, eyes wide. Then she laughed—a small, shaky sound—and hugged Shiney again.

“You scared me so much…”

“I know. I’m sorry. But now I know he’s worthy of you. And you… you stay this innocent, this trusting. Just make sure it’s always with someone who deserves it.”
Mirna nodded, eyes shining. She turned to Vikram.


The hall erupted in soft claps and smiles from the sisters and volunteers. The tension dissolved like mist in the morning sun.


The marriage date was set—three weeks away. Simple. In the church temple. Just family, friends from the orphanage, and a few from Chennai. Nothing grand. Just love.
That evening, Shiney pulled Vikram aside.


“I have a driver role at my hospital,” she said. “Ambulance runs, patient pickups. Steady pay. You can start tomorrow. It’ll help you prove yourself faster.”
Vikram shook his head gently.

“Thank you, Shiney. But I’ll pursue that after the marriage. I want to give Mirnaa a proper start—no rush, no pressure. And I have some friends in Chennai I need to invite. I’ll handle it myself.”


Shiney studied him for a moment, then nodded.

“Fair enough. But don’t take too long. She deserves stability.”
Vikram smiled. “I know.”


The next morning he excused himself from the church group. He printed ten simple invitation cards on the small computer in the office—plain white, gold lettering, the date and time in neat Tamil and English. He folded them carefully, slipped them into his pocket, and caught the evening train to Chennai.


The journey was quiet. He stared out the window, Mirna’s face in his mind—her shy smile, her trusting eyes. He felt a fierce protectiveness settle in his chest. I won’t let anyone break her. Not even me.


Chennai Central was noisy, crowded. He went straight to Mohan’s old mansion—the place that had once been his refuge.
Mohan opened the door, eyes widening.
“Vikram!”

Vikram pulled out an invitation and handed it over.
Mohan read it, then looked up, eyes misty.
“You’re really doing this. I'm happy.. ”


“I am. I want you there. Ramesh and Suresh too.”
Mohan hugged him—careful of old bruises that were mostly healed now.
“They’ll be there. We all will.”


Later, Ramesh and Suresh arrived. They laughed, teased him about finally finding someone who could handle his stubbornness. They just warned them to be careful and don't allow anyone to take control of his life..  They promised to come, bring gifts, and make noise.


Then the phone rang.
Sekaran.

Vikram answered on the first ring.

“Boy,” Sekaran’s voice was warm, fatherly, tired. “Mohan told me. Marriage, eh?”
“Yes, sir. In three weeks. Kerala. Church.”

A long pause.

“I’m happy for you. Truly. Live a good life. Don’t come back to this space again. It’s not for you anymore.”

Vikram swallowed. “Sir”


“I’ll send some cash through Mohan. Start fresh. Buy a small place, something for her. No debts. No favors. Just be a husband. A father someday.”

Vikram’s throat tightened. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You earned it. Now go. And Vikram… stay clean. For her.”


The call ended. Vikram stared at the phone, feeling the weight lift—and a new weight settled. No more shadows.

Next, he dialed Swathi.
She picked up instantly.
“Vikram?”

First time in months. Her voice was soft, surprised, warm.
“I’m getting married,” he said simply. “Three weeks. Kerala. I want you and Krish there.”

A beat of silence. Then a soft laugh—happy, relieved.


“We’ll be there. Send the invite. And Vikram… thank you. For everything. Come to the house tonight. Krish wants to see you.”


He went.

Swathi opened the door—elegant in a simple silk saree, eyes bright. Krish stood behind her, smiling.


They hugged him—tight, grateful. Swathi’s eyes were wet.

“You sacrificed so much for us. We never forgot.”
Krish handed him a drink. “We’re coming. With a surprise.”


Then Krish’s face turned serious.
“Right time. Let’s meet Swathi’s father. We need to introduce you properly.”
Vikram frowned. “Why me?”

“Because you saved her twice. Because you’re family now. Also because you drove Sekaran for 3 years, you have been close with him.. Come, you will know more there..”

They drove to the politician’s bungalow.

Ramanathan waited in the study—older, wearier, but still commanding. Beside him stood Bharath.

The air shifted the moment Vikram entered.


Bharath’s eyes met Vikram’s. Recognition. No words. Just a long, hard look.
They had never spoken, but they knew each other—from the station beatings, from the warehouse rescue, from shadows they both carried.


Ramanathan spoke first.
“You’re the driver.”
Vikram nodded.

“You saved my daughter. Twice.”
Vikram stayed silent.

Bharath stepped forward. Extended his hand.

Vikram took it. Firm. Hard. Neither flinched.

For a second their grips tightened—like two men measuring each other’s strength.

Then they released.

The conversation turned to business.


Aadharsh’s network was crumbling—Sekaran’s new system had humiliated him. But the mind behind Sekaran’s empire was still unknown. They were hunting.


Vikram listened quietly. In his mind, Mirna’s face appeared—soft, trusting, innocent.


No. We left this place for good. We should not enter again.
He diluted himself into thoughts and retired before they finished.


Bharath followed him outside.
They stood under the night sky, wind cool.
“You don’t seem like an ordinary driver,” Bharath said quietly.
Vikram lit a cigarette. Offered one.
Bharath took it. Lit it.


“If you ever have intel on who that sharp mind is… let me know.”
Vikram exhaled smoke.

“I just drive the wheel. I have no idea.”
Both smiled—knowing smiles. Small. Dangerous.
Bharath pulled out a card.

“Any help, call me. Consider me a friend.”
Vikram took it. Didn’t flinch.

He left that night—train back to Kerala.

With his trunk suitcase he brought it from his village.. His finger traced it, the scratch sound said how far his journey has been,


In his pocket: the card, the invites, and a quiet resolve.
No shadows. Not for her.

But deep down, he knew:

Shadows have a way of following.
Especially when someone like Bharath is watching.