07-02-2026, 07:44 PM
Chapter 61 – The Indecent Proposal
Vikram was all set for the day. He was not panicked or in fear. He was in control.
He knew what would be thrown at him.
He was ready to navigate it through.
All for his fatherly figure Sekaran.
Vikram analyzed his laptop, kept it ready.
He wanted to record every word of Bharath — not a trap, but a record for what he had been doing.
He sips the coffee and mentally sketches all the probabilities of outcome.
Vikram’s fingers hovered over the keyboard in the hidden room, the glow of the monitors casting sharp shadows across his face. He had been methodically cycling through every feed — kitchen, hallway, living room, guest bedroom, pool deck — making sure no corner of the house was blind. The cameras were his eyes now, silent and tireless. He needed to know every angle, every blind spot, every possible entry.
Then he switched to the master bedroom feed.
The attached bathroom camera activated automatically on motion.
Mirnaa was there.
She stood under the rain shower, completely nude, head tilted back as warm water cascaded over her.
Steam rose in soft curls around her body. Vikram froze. His breath caught.
Her breasts — heavier now than when they were newly married — rose and fell with each slow breath. The extra softness she had gained over the years had settled in all the right places: fuller curves, a gentle roundness at her hips, a subtle thickness to her thighs that made her look even more womanly, more irresistible.
The water traced glistening paths down her skin — over the swell of her chest, along the dip of her waist, between her thighs. Droplets clung to her nipples before falling away. Every movement was unselfconscious, sensual in its innocence.
He should have clicked away. He knew that.
But he didn’t.
His pulse thickened. Heat gathered low in his stomach.
Mirnaa turned slowly, letting the water sluice down her back. The curve of her spine, the flare of her hips, the perfect peach of her ass — all of it was framed perfectly by the wide-angle lens he had chosen. She reached for the shower gel, lathered her hands, and began to glide them over her body: slow circles over her breasts, fingers sliding down her stomach, between her legs. Vikram’s throat went dry. He leaned closer to the screen without realizing it.
She rinsed, stepped out, and reached for the towel.
The camera switched to the bedroom feed.
Mirnaa stood in front of the full-length mirror, droplets still clinging to her skin. She wrapped the towel loosely around her torso, the white fabric barely containing her breasts. She bent slightly to dry her legs — the towel slipped an inch, revealing the underside curve of her ass. She straightened, shook out her wet hair, then let the towel fall completely.
Naked again.
Vikram’s breathing grew shallow.
She reached for the lotion bottle on the dresser, squeezed a generous amount into her palm, and began to smooth it over her body. Her hands moved in long, languid strokes: across her collarbones, down the valley between her breasts, circling each nipple until they pebbled under her touch. She tilted her head back slightly, eyes closed, as if savoring the sensation. Then lower — over the soft swell of her belly, the flare of her hips, between her thighs. A small sigh escaped her lips. The sound came through the microphone crystal-clear.
Vikram’s hand tightened on the edge of the desk.
She finished, picked up her white lace bra and matching panties from the bed. The bra cupped her breasts perfectly, the lace sheer enough to hint at the dark areolas beneath. The panties rode high on her hips, the thin straps framing her ass like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. She stepped into her nurse uniform — crisp white sari blouse and petticoat — and dbangd the sari over her shoulder with practiced grace. The fabric clung slightly to her still-damp skin, outlining every curve.
She moved to the mirror one last time, adjusted the pallu, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and smiled at her reflection — soft, satisfied, completely unaware she was being watched.
Then she walked out of frame toward the kitchen.
Vikram stayed frozen, staring at the now-empty bedroom feed.
His heart hammered against his cracked ribs. Heat pulsed low in his groin. Guilt clawed at the back of his mind — this is my wife, my Mirnaa — but the sight of her, so intimate, so unguarded, through his own hidden cameras, was intoxicating.
He exhaled slowly, closed the feed, and leaned back in the chair.
He came out of the middle room in the top floor.
He went in and changed to his dress. They had breakfast together. Mirnaa was in some other mindset. He asked what troubles you.
Mirnaa said nothing troubles me, you seemed to be off for almost two weeks now. I wanted to converse but you are always on the phone.
Vikram said today I will spend time with you okay? Mirnaa leaves a small smile. Then he picked her up in the car and went to the hospital.
When he starts back from the hospital he texted:
“Let’s meet in 30 mins.”
He drove home.
Bharath’s Thar was already parked in the driveway — black, gleaming, like a predator waiting.
Vikram smiled to himself. How predictable.
He parked, walked inside.
Bharath was standing in the hall, arms folded, expression unreadable.
Vikram didn’t waste time on greetings.
“Let’s cut the crap,” he said. “Come with me.”
He led Bharath up the stairs to the middle room on the first floor — the one with the false wall, the monitors, the hidden door. The room where Vikram had spent the last two weeks planning.
He sat in the rolling chair behind the desk. Bharath took the visitor chair opposite.
Vikram leaned forward.
“So you know Krish is going to run an empire. We need you there. What’s the deal? What do you want?”
Bharath removed his sunglasses, placed them on the table.
His eyes were steady, almost amused.
“Let me be straight. Krish spoke enough on the deals. I’m not interested in partnering for the money then. Aadharsh is also aiming to use me. He even used force — made me get suspended. But still I didn’t turn to him. Not because I want to work with Krish. It’s because I’m not interested in both of you.”
Vikram nodded once. “I know the moment Krish said that to me.
But we have a purpose. We are the true Gang of Sekaran. You know all the story. Now we are starting from scratch — we can’t use Sekaran’s name anymore. Without your link it’s tough to bypass.
For every deal passed through you I pay you 20% flat.
It may be lesser than what Aadharsh offers, but we have volume, and let’s go together.
Aadharsh will bypass you one day. If he can pull his own father down, why can’t others?
I’m not asking you to side for money. You need to side for the right thing.”
Bharath leaned back, arms crossed. “I’m not doing any charity, brother. There is no right or wrong when it comes to business.
Just name me a better offer. Whatever you said didn’t excite me.”
Vikram met his gaze. “Name your price then.”
Bharath’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Give me something exciting.”
Vikram smiled — small, calculated. “If you are not interested or if you don’t have anything to ask for, you simply would have cut me in a message or phone call. But you came all the way. Meaning you expected something. Ask me straight, Bharath.”
Bharath held his stare for a long moment.
Then he leaned forward.
“Before asking that, let me ask you.
Why did you dig about me through spies?”
Vikram didn’t flinch. “If you can answer why you dig at me about my pasts, I can answer that as well.”
Bharath’s patience snapped.
“I don’t want your 20% share.
I don’t want any money.
I need a woman.
Only you can make it possible.”
Vikram’s smile didn’t waver.
He had known this was coming the moment Bharath agreed to meet.
He leaned back in the chair. “I don’t trade women.”
Bharath reached into his jacket, pulled out a pen drive, and placed it on the table with deliberate slowness.
“I trade secrets. In business… and things like this.”
He pushed the drive across the desk.
“Browse it.”
Vikram calmly plugged it in.
The screen filled with files.
Clips of him and Malavika — stolen moments in the back office of one of his electronics stores, her legs wrapped around him, moans muffled against his neck.
Another clip — older — Vikram in a warehouse, beating a man bloody, Sekaran’s orders in the background.
Vikram didn’t blink.
“I know Mirnaa doesn’t know anything about you,” Bharath said softly. “Maybe this can give her a full picture.
So you want Mirnaa?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I give her to you? Maybe I can simply say no, right?”
“And did you think just for the deal or your threatening I would send her to bed?”
Bharath’s voice dropped lower. “No. I’m not interested in bedding her soon. Do you think that’s cheap about me?
I wanted to have a date. A proper relationship. And then sex — but not how you think. Not long, for few months, after that if you are comfortable i can extend. In short: no blackmail, no force, no trading. It’s just an affair.”
“It’s still cheap. Aiming at other men’s wives.”
Bharath’s lips curved. “Malavika and Malar were not your wives, right? When you can stay for months in relationship with them, why not your wife with me, let her too have some fun outside?
I know you dug something on me. It could be Manya.
Even if you threaten her, I won’t move a bit. Because she is not mine.
Actually, Vikram… you have no leverage here. Your empire is crumbling. You may get new informers tomorrow, but it may take years. To stop the crumbling, you need me.”
Vikram leaned forward. “I know. That’s why I’m speaking with you.
I can offer you any other thing… even if that has to be women…
Why Mirnaa? Why not any other woman?”
He opened a folder on his own laptop. “There is a video. Browse it. Says hospital.”
The clip played.
Bharath unconscious on the hospital bed after a beating. Mirnaa — young, nervous nurse — reaching for a phone charger on the wall above him. She stretched, lost balance, and fell forward.
Her breasts pressed against his face.
Bharath’s eyes closed in the memory.
“Ever since, I was searching for her,” he said quietly. “You know I was in ecstasy in those five minutes. I wanted to badly bed her. Taste her melon. But I missed her.
When fate took me to her, she was introduced to me as your wife. Even then I thought I could orchestrate something and just bed her. But I figured out she is innocent. Naive.
You can get any woman out there. But innocent and naive? Rare. I decided then I should plan something to get near her. Become a friend. Then a little more. And enjoy her innocence in sex. Pleasure.”
Imagine i'm seducing a strict homely innocent wife into an affair. Thats something man, Thrill. You would have done it right he laughed.
Vikram listened to every word.
He didn’t rage. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.
He focused only on his empire.
His mind reeled with one thing — Sekaran’s words:
Allow them for a while… have them in control… execute it in business or personal life. They need your validation for all.
Silence stretched between them.
Bharath tilted his head. “Why didn’t you react at all?”
Vikram leaned back in the chair. “It didn’t excite me anymore.
My goal is something else: there are consignments, there are businesses at risk, there is a team that needs me, needs my inputs. I can’t leave them out.
Even if I’m ready to give you Mirnaa — in whatever way you want — affair, friendship, or whatever… I’m still not convinced about your role here that’s worth Mirnaa.”
Bharath blinked. For the first time, he looked genuinely stunned.
“Are you telling me you’d allow me to have Mirnaa?”
Vikram’s voice was calm. “I’m not convinced about letting you have Mirnaa for mere deals.”
Bharath sat straight. “What do you expect?”
“You should say,” Vikram said. “Give me some reason that makes me consider allowing you near my Mirnaa.”
Bharath thought for a long moment.
“I will work without pay. Maybe I will get more clients.”
Vikram: “Not convinced.”
Bharath pushed the pendrive back toward him. “Keep it. I will destroy all the proofs.”
Vikram smiled faintly. “I don’t care even if you gave her this. I can explain to her. Not convinced.”
Bharath’s voice dropped. “What else do you want?”
“I said no money. More clients. Deleting records.”
Vikram said: “Nothing worth risking my Mirnaa.”
Bharath exhaled. “Okay. I surrender. I need Mirnaa. What should I do?
Should I join you now? I hear some consignments are in trouble.
Should I clear it right away without any advance?”
Vikram looked at his face for a long moment.
“If you are determined to have Mirnaa in a relationship…
Then you should not join me.
You need to join Aadharsh.”
Bharath stared. “What?”
Vikram leaned forward.
“Yes. Join him tomorrow. Raise your demand. Make him pay you.”
Bharath was confused.
“I don’t get it,” he said.
Vikram’s smile was small, dangerous.
“The only convincing thing for me — the risk worth getting Mirnaa — is you doing double-agent work.
Accept his offer.
Raise the stake.
And work for me.”
Vikram smiled shrewdly .While Bharath got terrorized.
Vikram was all set for the day. He was not panicked or in fear. He was in control.
He knew what would be thrown at him.
He was ready to navigate it through.
All for his fatherly figure Sekaran.
Vikram analyzed his laptop, kept it ready.
He wanted to record every word of Bharath — not a trap, but a record for what he had been doing.
He sips the coffee and mentally sketches all the probabilities of outcome.
Vikram’s fingers hovered over the keyboard in the hidden room, the glow of the monitors casting sharp shadows across his face. He had been methodically cycling through every feed — kitchen, hallway, living room, guest bedroom, pool deck — making sure no corner of the house was blind. The cameras were his eyes now, silent and tireless. He needed to know every angle, every blind spot, every possible entry.
Then he switched to the master bedroom feed.
The attached bathroom camera activated automatically on motion.
Mirnaa was there.
She stood under the rain shower, completely nude, head tilted back as warm water cascaded over her.
Steam rose in soft curls around her body. Vikram froze. His breath caught.
Her breasts — heavier now than when they were newly married — rose and fell with each slow breath. The extra softness she had gained over the years had settled in all the right places: fuller curves, a gentle roundness at her hips, a subtle thickness to her thighs that made her look even more womanly, more irresistible.
The water traced glistening paths down her skin — over the swell of her chest, along the dip of her waist, between her thighs. Droplets clung to her nipples before falling away. Every movement was unselfconscious, sensual in its innocence.
He should have clicked away. He knew that.
But he didn’t.
His pulse thickened. Heat gathered low in his stomach.
Mirnaa turned slowly, letting the water sluice down her back. The curve of her spine, the flare of her hips, the perfect peach of her ass — all of it was framed perfectly by the wide-angle lens he had chosen. She reached for the shower gel, lathered her hands, and began to glide them over her body: slow circles over her breasts, fingers sliding down her stomach, between her legs. Vikram’s throat went dry. He leaned closer to the screen without realizing it.
She rinsed, stepped out, and reached for the towel.
The camera switched to the bedroom feed.
Mirnaa stood in front of the full-length mirror, droplets still clinging to her skin. She wrapped the towel loosely around her torso, the white fabric barely containing her breasts. She bent slightly to dry her legs — the towel slipped an inch, revealing the underside curve of her ass. She straightened, shook out her wet hair, then let the towel fall completely.
Naked again.
Vikram’s breathing grew shallow.
She reached for the lotion bottle on the dresser, squeezed a generous amount into her palm, and began to smooth it over her body. Her hands moved in long, languid strokes: across her collarbones, down the valley between her breasts, circling each nipple until they pebbled under her touch. She tilted her head back slightly, eyes closed, as if savoring the sensation. Then lower — over the soft swell of her belly, the flare of her hips, between her thighs. A small sigh escaped her lips. The sound came through the microphone crystal-clear.
Vikram’s hand tightened on the edge of the desk.
She finished, picked up her white lace bra and matching panties from the bed. The bra cupped her breasts perfectly, the lace sheer enough to hint at the dark areolas beneath. The panties rode high on her hips, the thin straps framing her ass like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. She stepped into her nurse uniform — crisp white sari blouse and petticoat — and dbangd the sari over her shoulder with practiced grace. The fabric clung slightly to her still-damp skin, outlining every curve.
She moved to the mirror one last time, adjusted the pallu, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and smiled at her reflection — soft, satisfied, completely unaware she was being watched.
Then she walked out of frame toward the kitchen.
Vikram stayed frozen, staring at the now-empty bedroom feed.
His heart hammered against his cracked ribs. Heat pulsed low in his groin. Guilt clawed at the back of his mind — this is my wife, my Mirnaa — but the sight of her, so intimate, so unguarded, through his own hidden cameras, was intoxicating.
He exhaled slowly, closed the feed, and leaned back in the chair.
He came out of the middle room in the top floor.
He went in and changed to his dress. They had breakfast together. Mirnaa was in some other mindset. He asked what troubles you.
Mirnaa said nothing troubles me, you seemed to be off for almost two weeks now. I wanted to converse but you are always on the phone.
Vikram said today I will spend time with you okay? Mirnaa leaves a small smile. Then he picked her up in the car and went to the hospital.
When he starts back from the hospital he texted:
“Let’s meet in 30 mins.”
He drove home.
Bharath’s Thar was already parked in the driveway — black, gleaming, like a predator waiting.
Vikram smiled to himself. How predictable.
He parked, walked inside.
Bharath was standing in the hall, arms folded, expression unreadable.
Vikram didn’t waste time on greetings.
“Let’s cut the crap,” he said. “Come with me.”
He led Bharath up the stairs to the middle room on the first floor — the one with the false wall, the monitors, the hidden door. The room where Vikram had spent the last two weeks planning.
He sat in the rolling chair behind the desk. Bharath took the visitor chair opposite.
Vikram leaned forward.
“So you know Krish is going to run an empire. We need you there. What’s the deal? What do you want?”
Bharath removed his sunglasses, placed them on the table.
His eyes were steady, almost amused.
“Let me be straight. Krish spoke enough on the deals. I’m not interested in partnering for the money then. Aadharsh is also aiming to use me. He even used force — made me get suspended. But still I didn’t turn to him. Not because I want to work with Krish. It’s because I’m not interested in both of you.”
Vikram nodded once. “I know the moment Krish said that to me.
But we have a purpose. We are the true Gang of Sekaran. You know all the story. Now we are starting from scratch — we can’t use Sekaran’s name anymore. Without your link it’s tough to bypass.
For every deal passed through you I pay you 20% flat.
It may be lesser than what Aadharsh offers, but we have volume, and let’s go together.
Aadharsh will bypass you one day. If he can pull his own father down, why can’t others?
I’m not asking you to side for money. You need to side for the right thing.”
Bharath leaned back, arms crossed. “I’m not doing any charity, brother. There is no right or wrong when it comes to business.
Just name me a better offer. Whatever you said didn’t excite me.”
Vikram met his gaze. “Name your price then.”
Bharath’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Give me something exciting.”
Vikram smiled — small, calculated. “If you are not interested or if you don’t have anything to ask for, you simply would have cut me in a message or phone call. But you came all the way. Meaning you expected something. Ask me straight, Bharath.”
Bharath held his stare for a long moment.
Then he leaned forward.
“Before asking that, let me ask you.
Why did you dig about me through spies?”
Vikram didn’t flinch. “If you can answer why you dig at me about my pasts, I can answer that as well.”
Bharath’s patience snapped.
“I don’t want your 20% share.
I don’t want any money.
I need a woman.
Only you can make it possible.”
Vikram’s smile didn’t waver.
He had known this was coming the moment Bharath agreed to meet.
He leaned back in the chair. “I don’t trade women.”
Bharath reached into his jacket, pulled out a pen drive, and placed it on the table with deliberate slowness.
“I trade secrets. In business… and things like this.”
He pushed the drive across the desk.
“Browse it.”
Vikram calmly plugged it in.
The screen filled with files.
Clips of him and Malavika — stolen moments in the back office of one of his electronics stores, her legs wrapped around him, moans muffled against his neck.
Another clip — older — Vikram in a warehouse, beating a man bloody, Sekaran’s orders in the background.
Vikram didn’t blink.
“I know Mirnaa doesn’t know anything about you,” Bharath said softly. “Maybe this can give her a full picture.
So you want Mirnaa?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I give her to you? Maybe I can simply say no, right?”
“And did you think just for the deal or your threatening I would send her to bed?”
Bharath’s voice dropped lower. “No. I’m not interested in bedding her soon. Do you think that’s cheap about me?
I wanted to have a date. A proper relationship. And then sex — but not how you think. Not long, for few months, after that if you are comfortable i can extend. In short: no blackmail, no force, no trading. It’s just an affair.”
“It’s still cheap. Aiming at other men’s wives.”
Bharath’s lips curved. “Malavika and Malar were not your wives, right? When you can stay for months in relationship with them, why not your wife with me, let her too have some fun outside?
I know you dug something on me. It could be Manya.
Even if you threaten her, I won’t move a bit. Because she is not mine.
Actually, Vikram… you have no leverage here. Your empire is crumbling. You may get new informers tomorrow, but it may take years. To stop the crumbling, you need me.”
Vikram leaned forward. “I know. That’s why I’m speaking with you.
I can offer you any other thing… even if that has to be women…
Why Mirnaa? Why not any other woman?”
He opened a folder on his own laptop. “There is a video. Browse it. Says hospital.”
The clip played.
Bharath unconscious on the hospital bed after a beating. Mirnaa — young, nervous nurse — reaching for a phone charger on the wall above him. She stretched, lost balance, and fell forward.
Her breasts pressed against his face.
Bharath’s eyes closed in the memory.
“Ever since, I was searching for her,” he said quietly. “You know I was in ecstasy in those five minutes. I wanted to badly bed her. Taste her melon. But I missed her.
When fate took me to her, she was introduced to me as your wife. Even then I thought I could orchestrate something and just bed her. But I figured out she is innocent. Naive.
You can get any woman out there. But innocent and naive? Rare. I decided then I should plan something to get near her. Become a friend. Then a little more. And enjoy her innocence in sex. Pleasure.”
Imagine i'm seducing a strict homely innocent wife into an affair. Thats something man, Thrill. You would have done it right he laughed.
Vikram listened to every word.
He didn’t rage. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.
He focused only on his empire.
His mind reeled with one thing — Sekaran’s words:
Allow them for a while… have them in control… execute it in business or personal life. They need your validation for all.
Silence stretched between them.
Bharath tilted his head. “Why didn’t you react at all?”
Vikram leaned back in the chair. “It didn’t excite me anymore.
My goal is something else: there are consignments, there are businesses at risk, there is a team that needs me, needs my inputs. I can’t leave them out.
Even if I’m ready to give you Mirnaa — in whatever way you want — affair, friendship, or whatever… I’m still not convinced about your role here that’s worth Mirnaa.”
Bharath blinked. For the first time, he looked genuinely stunned.
“Are you telling me you’d allow me to have Mirnaa?”
Vikram’s voice was calm. “I’m not convinced about letting you have Mirnaa for mere deals.”
Bharath sat straight. “What do you expect?”
“You should say,” Vikram said. “Give me some reason that makes me consider allowing you near my Mirnaa.”
Bharath thought for a long moment.
“I will work without pay. Maybe I will get more clients.”
Vikram: “Not convinced.”
Bharath pushed the pendrive back toward him. “Keep it. I will destroy all the proofs.”
Vikram smiled faintly. “I don’t care even if you gave her this. I can explain to her. Not convinced.”
Bharath’s voice dropped. “What else do you want?”
“I said no money. More clients. Deleting records.”
Vikram said: “Nothing worth risking my Mirnaa.”
Bharath exhaled. “Okay. I surrender. I need Mirnaa. What should I do?
Should I join you now? I hear some consignments are in trouble.
Should I clear it right away without any advance?”
Vikram looked at his face for a long moment.
“If you are determined to have Mirnaa in a relationship…
Then you should not join me.
You need to join Aadharsh.”
Bharath stared. “What?”
Vikram leaned forward.
“Yes. Join him tomorrow. Raise your demand. Make him pay you.”
Bharath was confused.
“I don’t get it,” he said.
Vikram’s smile was small, dangerous.
“The only convincing thing for me — the risk worth getting Mirnaa — is you doing double-agent work.
Accept his offer.
Raise the stake.
And work for me.”
Vikram smiled shrewdly .While Bharath got terrorized.
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