08-02-2026, 07:39 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-02-2026, 08:38 PM by heygiwriter. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 73 – Bharath's Calculated trap set for Vikram
The morning came back soft and golden, sunlight filtering through the balcony curtains, painting long stripes across the bedroom floor.
![[Image: image-5.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/XfyFwBMX/image-5.jpg)
Vikram woke slowly — the bed still warm from Mirnaa’s side. He reached instinctively, but she was already gone. The sound of running water came from the bathroom — she was bathing again.
He sat up, ribs stiff but healing. His phone buzzed on the nightstand — Krish had sent a batch of papers to review: Dubai logistics, stock manifests, new partner contracts. Vikram glanced at them briefly, then set the phone aside.
He walked to the balcony.
The Thar was gone.
Vikram’s brow furrowed. He had expected Bharath to be here — hungover, sobbing, broken after last night’s performance. Instead, the driveway was empty.
He left early again.
Surprise flickered — then unease. What is he up to?
His phone rang.
Krish.
Vikram answered.
Krish’s voice was tight with excitement. “Aadharsh took a big blow. One of his consignments got damaged — products spoiled. He’s panicking. The second-largest customer of Sekaran Anna’s old network was the party. They’re furious. Fingers are pointing at Aadharsh’s warehouse.”
Vikram’s grip tightened on the phone.
He had specifically told Bharath to wait — play the sabotage only after the Dubai trip. Why now?
“I wanted Bharath to time this after I return from Dubai,” Vikram said, voice low. “Why is he doing this now?”
Krish laughed. “He’s good, Vikram. Maybe too good. But it worked. The customer is already talking to us.”
Vikram ended the call.
He waited.
Mirnaa came out after her bath — fresh, glowing, wrapped in a towel. She started cooking breakfast — masala dosa, chutney, sambar — the smell filling the house.
Vikram watched her from the doorway.
She seemed quieter than usual — eyes distant, mind elsewhere.
At 8:00 a.m., the Thar sound came in.
Bharath stepped inside.
He went straight to Mirnaa in the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Mirnaa froze — spatula in hand. He had never spoken to her directly in the house before. All conversations had been confined to the Thar.
Bharath continued — voice low, sincere.
“Last night… I was drunk. I don’t remember anything. If I caused any trouble to either of you… I’m sorry.”
Mirnaa’s eyes softened. “It’s okay, Bharath. You were… hurting.”
Bharath turned to Vikram, who had stepped into the kitchen.
“Sorry to you too, Vikram.”
Vikram nodded once — face unreadable. “That’s okay. We understand. Just have breakfast and drop her at the hospital.”
Bharath nodded.
Breakfast was quiet.
After, Bharath and Mirnaa left in the Thar.
On the way to the hospital, Mirnaa broke the silence.
“What happened yesterday?”
Bharath kept his eyes on the road. “Nothing.”
A tear slipped down his cheek — slow, deliberate.
Mirnaa saw it.
Her hand moved — unexpected, instinctive — reached across the console and wiped it away.
Bharath glanced at her — eyes watery.
“Thanks,” he whispered. “And sorry… if I caused you trouble last night.”
Mirnaa shook her head. “Nothing like that.”
She paused.
“If you want to open up… please share with me.”
Bharath looked at her for a long moment — eyes glistening.
“I wanted to… but…”
Mirnaa intervened gently. “Share your pain with us. Don’t ever touch that bottle again.”
Bharath smiled — small, sad, watery.
“Thanks.”
He subtly palmed the small glycerin vial in his pocket before she could see it.
Back at the house, Bharath returned after dropping Mirna.
Vikram was waiting in the hall.
“What happened?” Vikram asked.
Bharath exhaled — tired, broken.
“My fault. We should forget those 12 hours.”
Vikram’s face stayed unreadable.
Bharath continued — voice soft, defeated.
“Don’t worry. At this state… I’m not ready to think anything. My emotions need healing — not the body. Even if you send her to me… I’m not ready to do anything. Anything with respect to Mirnaa… let’s give it time. You are a lucky fellow.”
He paused.
“Look how things are delaying.”
Vikram released a breath — something eased in him.
But he had something inside him troubling, why did he sabotage Aadahrsh consignment now? What if he smells
He asked: “How did Aadharsh’s consignment end up damaged? I asked you to do it only after I return from Dubai.”
Bharath shrugged — casual.
“It’s natural. His warehouse has too many rats. They used to leave food there. Last week Aadharsh himself was eating a creamy cake. I warned him not to have these here. One cake fell down. I said it fell inside a carton box. He dismissed it — just a box. That’s when the idea popped. I put a small piece exactly into the carton box. Rats smelled it. They bit the product. Today when it reached the customer… Aadharsh’s name is damaged. Morning I went to inspect with experts. All fingers pointed at Aadharsh. He accepted with no choice.”
Vikram stared at him.
Then patted his shoulder. “What a clever man you are.”
He asked: “What do you want? Tell me. I can give you.”
Bharath looked at him — eyes tired, sincere.
“I need Mirnaa. Not for sex. I need to vent out my emotional outburst.
Can you… send her to me? Tonight? 20 mins, i will vent out.. Do something and ask her to hug me. That could do.”
Vikram felt something deep down — touched, almost moved.
He had wanted to really help Bharath. A
And what Bharath had done — the consignment sabotage — looked completely natural. No suspicion. No trace.
Vikram said: “Okay.”
He could not suspect Bharath’s move.
He was very much into the trap.
The morning came back soft and golden, sunlight filtering through the balcony curtains, painting long stripes across the bedroom floor.
Vikram woke slowly — the bed still warm from Mirnaa’s side. He reached instinctively, but she was already gone. The sound of running water came from the bathroom — she was bathing again.
He sat up, ribs stiff but healing. His phone buzzed on the nightstand — Krish had sent a batch of papers to review: Dubai logistics, stock manifests, new partner contracts. Vikram glanced at them briefly, then set the phone aside.
He walked to the balcony.
The Thar was gone.
Vikram’s brow furrowed. He had expected Bharath to be here — hungover, sobbing, broken after last night’s performance. Instead, the driveway was empty.
He left early again.
Surprise flickered — then unease. What is he up to?
His phone rang.
Krish.
Vikram answered.
Krish’s voice was tight with excitement. “Aadharsh took a big blow. One of his consignments got damaged — products spoiled. He’s panicking. The second-largest customer of Sekaran Anna’s old network was the party. They’re furious. Fingers are pointing at Aadharsh’s warehouse.”
Vikram’s grip tightened on the phone.
He had specifically told Bharath to wait — play the sabotage only after the Dubai trip. Why now?
“I wanted Bharath to time this after I return from Dubai,” Vikram said, voice low. “Why is he doing this now?”
Krish laughed. “He’s good, Vikram. Maybe too good. But it worked. The customer is already talking to us.”
Vikram ended the call.
He waited.
Mirnaa came out after her bath — fresh, glowing, wrapped in a towel. She started cooking breakfast — masala dosa, chutney, sambar — the smell filling the house.
Vikram watched her from the doorway.
She seemed quieter than usual — eyes distant, mind elsewhere.
At 8:00 a.m., the Thar sound came in.
Bharath stepped inside.
He went straight to Mirnaa in the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Mirnaa froze — spatula in hand. He had never spoken to her directly in the house before. All conversations had been confined to the Thar.
Bharath continued — voice low, sincere.
“Last night… I was drunk. I don’t remember anything. If I caused any trouble to either of you… I’m sorry.”
Mirnaa’s eyes softened. “It’s okay, Bharath. You were… hurting.”
Bharath turned to Vikram, who had stepped into the kitchen.
“Sorry to you too, Vikram.”
Vikram nodded once — face unreadable. “That’s okay. We understand. Just have breakfast and drop her at the hospital.”
Bharath nodded.
Breakfast was quiet.
After, Bharath and Mirnaa left in the Thar.
On the way to the hospital, Mirnaa broke the silence.
“What happened yesterday?”
Bharath kept his eyes on the road. “Nothing.”
A tear slipped down his cheek — slow, deliberate.
Mirnaa saw it.
Her hand moved — unexpected, instinctive — reached across the console and wiped it away.
Bharath glanced at her — eyes watery.
“Thanks,” he whispered. “And sorry… if I caused you trouble last night.”
Mirnaa shook her head. “Nothing like that.”
She paused.
“If you want to open up… please share with me.”
Bharath looked at her for a long moment — eyes glistening.
“I wanted to… but…”
Mirnaa intervened gently. “Share your pain with us. Don’t ever touch that bottle again.”
Bharath smiled — small, sad, watery.
“Thanks.”
He subtly palmed the small glycerin vial in his pocket before she could see it.
Back at the house, Bharath returned after dropping Mirna.
Vikram was waiting in the hall.
“What happened?” Vikram asked.
Bharath exhaled — tired, broken.
“My fault. We should forget those 12 hours.”
Vikram’s face stayed unreadable.
Bharath continued — voice soft, defeated.
“Don’t worry. At this state… I’m not ready to think anything. My emotions need healing — not the body. Even if you send her to me… I’m not ready to do anything. Anything with respect to Mirnaa… let’s give it time. You are a lucky fellow.”
He paused.
“Look how things are delaying.”
Vikram released a breath — something eased in him.
But he had something inside him troubling, why did he sabotage Aadahrsh consignment now? What if he smells
He asked: “How did Aadharsh’s consignment end up damaged? I asked you to do it only after I return from Dubai.”
Bharath shrugged — casual.
“It’s natural. His warehouse has too many rats. They used to leave food there. Last week Aadharsh himself was eating a creamy cake. I warned him not to have these here. One cake fell down. I said it fell inside a carton box. He dismissed it — just a box. That’s when the idea popped. I put a small piece exactly into the carton box. Rats smelled it. They bit the product. Today when it reached the customer… Aadharsh’s name is damaged. Morning I went to inspect with experts. All fingers pointed at Aadharsh. He accepted with no choice.”
Vikram stared at him.
Then patted his shoulder. “What a clever man you are.”
He asked: “What do you want? Tell me. I can give you.”
Bharath looked at him — eyes tired, sincere.
“I need Mirnaa. Not for sex. I need to vent out my emotional outburst.
Can you… send her to me? Tonight? 20 mins, i will vent out.. Do something and ask her to hug me. That could do.”
Vikram felt something deep down — touched, almost moved.
He had wanted to really help Bharath. A
And what Bharath had done — the consignment sabotage — looked completely natural. No suspicion. No trace.
Vikram said: “Okay.”
He could not suspect Bharath’s move.
He was very much into the trap.
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