23-02-2026, 11:32 PM
Continuation :
The house had gone quiet hours ago. Mirnaa was asleep in their bed — curled on her side, breathing slow and even, body still marked from the night. Fresh bruises bloomed on her hips, throat, breasts — dark purple fingerprints and bite marks that would take days to fade. She had fallen asleep against Vikram’s chest, exhausted, spent, whispering his name one last time before sleep took her.
Vikram hadn’t slept.
He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, one arm around her protectively. The phone on the nightstand buzzed once — soft, muted. He glanced at the screen.
Swathi.
He carefully slid his arm from under Mirnaa. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. He slipped out of bed, pulled on a robe, and padded barefoot to the rooftop terrace.
The night air was cool, salty, the sea black and endless below. He closed the glass door behind him, leaned against the railing, and answered.
“Swathi.”
Her voice came through — quiet, concerned.
“All went as planned?”
Vikram exhaled slowly, looking out over the dark water.
“Yes. All went as planned.”
He glanced back toward the bedroom door — still closed, light off.
“Yeah. She’s asleep now.”
Swathi’s tone softened, almost hesitant.
“Why did you hurt Mirnaa so much mentally? You could have stopped this earlier.
Introduced Manya weeks ago. Let Bharath see his own trap snap shut before it got this far.”
Vikram’s fingers tightened on the railing.
“If I had done that… she would never have understood. Not fully. Bharath would have twisted it — claimed Manya never loved him, that she was lying, that he could still win her back. He would have come crawling back with more lies, more drama.
Mirnaa would have wavered again. Doubting me. Doubting herself.”
She would not have a chance to feel all the love dramas are fake..
He paused. The wind carried the faint crash of waves.
“This way… she saw his real face. The man who neglects her at the tip of sex. The man who abandons her naked and open the second his old flame calls. Will a man like that truly love her? No. She saw it. Felt it. In the worst possible way.”
She would never trust him back
I wanted to punish her this way so she will remind,
remind her failure, her judgments she must crawl back to me for every decision..
Swathi was quiet for a moment.
“You wanted her to break so she could see.”
“I wanted her to know,” Vikram said calmly. “Not suspect. Not wonder. Know. I controlled every move. Waited for the right time. Let her fall far enough that the truth would hit like a blade. Now she won’t doubt again.”
Another pause.
“Any update from Manya?”
“Not yet,” Swathi said. “She’ll handle it. She’s stronger than she looks.”
Vikram nodded to himself.
“Take care of her. I’ll speak to her in the morning.”
Swathi’s voice softened further.
“You okay?”
He looked back toward the bedroom — where Mirnaa slept, marked, claimed, finally his again.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Good night.”
He ended the call.
For a long moment he stood there — wind ruffling his robe, sea whispering below. He looked down at the dark water, then back at the house.
He had won.
But the game wasn’t over yet.
He slipped back inside, locked the terrace door, and returned to bed. Mirnaa stirred as he slid under the covers. She turned instinctively toward him, curling into his chest, still half-asleep.
He wrapped his arms around her — tight, possessive.
She sighed softly — content, safe.
Vikram stared at the ceiling again.
He knew he had to come clean soon. Tell her everything
He is waiting for a perfect time
The house had gone quiet hours ago. Mirnaa was asleep in their bed — curled on her side, breathing slow and even, body still marked from the night. Fresh bruises bloomed on her hips, throat, breasts — dark purple fingerprints and bite marks that would take days to fade. She had fallen asleep against Vikram’s chest, exhausted, spent, whispering his name one last time before sleep took her.
Vikram hadn’t slept.
He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, one arm around her protectively. The phone on the nightstand buzzed once — soft, muted. He glanced at the screen.
Swathi.
He carefully slid his arm from under Mirnaa. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake. He slipped out of bed, pulled on a robe, and padded barefoot to the rooftop terrace.
The night air was cool, salty, the sea black and endless below. He closed the glass door behind him, leaned against the railing, and answered.
“Swathi.”
Her voice came through — quiet, concerned.
“All went as planned?”
Vikram exhaled slowly, looking out over the dark water.
“Yes. All went as planned.”
He glanced back toward the bedroom door — still closed, light off.
“Yeah. She’s asleep now.”
Swathi’s tone softened, almost hesitant.
“Why did you hurt Mirnaa so much mentally? You could have stopped this earlier.
Introduced Manya weeks ago. Let Bharath see his own trap snap shut before it got this far.”
Vikram’s fingers tightened on the railing.
“If I had done that… she would never have understood. Not fully. Bharath would have twisted it — claimed Manya never loved him, that she was lying, that he could still win her back. He would have come crawling back with more lies, more drama.
Mirnaa would have wavered again. Doubting me. Doubting herself.”
She would not have a chance to feel all the love dramas are fake..
He paused. The wind carried the faint crash of waves.
“This way… she saw his real face. The man who neglects her at the tip of sex. The man who abandons her naked and open the second his old flame calls. Will a man like that truly love her? No. She saw it. Felt it. In the worst possible way.”
She would never trust him back
I wanted to punish her this way so she will remind,
remind her failure, her judgments she must crawl back to me for every decision..
Swathi was quiet for a moment.
“You wanted her to break so she could see.”
“I wanted her to know,” Vikram said calmly. “Not suspect. Not wonder. Know. I controlled every move. Waited for the right time. Let her fall far enough that the truth would hit like a blade. Now she won’t doubt again.”
Another pause.
“Any update from Manya?”
“Not yet,” Swathi said. “She’ll handle it. She’s stronger than she looks.”
Vikram nodded to himself.
“Take care of her. I’ll speak to her in the morning.”
Swathi’s voice softened further.
“You okay?”
He looked back toward the bedroom — where Mirnaa slept, marked, claimed, finally his again.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Good night.”
He ended the call.
For a long moment he stood there — wind ruffling his robe, sea whispering below. He looked down at the dark water, then back at the house.
He had won.
But the game wasn’t over yet.
He slipped back inside, locked the terrace door, and returned to bed. Mirnaa stirred as he slid under the covers. She turned instinctively toward him, curling into his chest, still half-asleep.
He wrapped his arms around her — tight, possessive.
She sighed softly — content, safe.
Vikram stared at the ceiling again.
He knew he had to come clean soon. Tell her everything
He is waiting for a perfect time
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