11 hours ago
Chapter 30: Jiiva's first Plan
Jeeva decided on the go — no more waiting, no more hesitation. The morning confrontation with Anandhi had lit a fire under him. She wasn’t ready to hear about remarriage. She wasn’t ready to let Rahul go. But she was starting to lean on him — emotionally, physically — and that dependence was dangerous. If she kept falling for “Jeeva,” she’d never move on when he vanished.
He needed Suriya in her life — fast.
Before his body failed.
Before her hope turned to love for the wrong man.
After Anandhi left for college with the kids — saree swaying, pallu pinned, a quiet “See you in the evening” over her shoulder — Jeeva walked straight to Suriya’s door.
He knocked — three firm raps.
The door creaked open.
Suriya lounged on his sagging sofa — shirtless — sweat still glistening on his chiseled six-pack from whatever early workout he’d finished. White skin taut over muscle. Shorts hugged thick thighs. He leaned back, one arm slung over the cushion, coffee mug in hand, steam curling up.
“Whenever you come here, my blood pressure spikes,” Suriya said — voice gruff but edged with a smirk.
Jeeva stepped inside — door clicking shut behind him.
“Cool down,” he said. “So what’s your plan? When do you start?”
Suriya scratched his jaw — broad hand rasping against stubble.
“No real plans yet. First, I need to get into your home. Never been inside. She’s never welcomed me. Breaking in is the start — what do you say? So I can talk. Look in her eyes.”
Jeeva froze for a second — the bluntness hit hard.
It would take a long time.
But he was glad — Suriya was thinking romantically, not just pervetly.
“After all,” Suriya added, eyes glinting, “I’m going to be her husband and father to the kids.”
Jeeva felt something inside him melt — a painful, reluctant relief.
That was exactly what he wanted.
Whatever the cost, he’d root them together. Manipulate. Marry them legally. Give her safety. Give the kids a protector.
“Surya — her guard?” he asked quietly.
Suriya nodded — serious now.
Jeeva paused — coffee mug warm in his hand as Suriya poured him one. The bitter aroma filled the room.
Surya’s eager gaze bore into him.
Jeeva sipped — scalding on his tongue.
“I don’t think an invite will work,” he said. “You need a free ticket — entry and exit — so it’s routine. Anandhi won’t suspect. You’ll get closer.”
Suriya’s eyes lit up — he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Cool — bravo — but how?”
Jeeva paced — sandals scuffing the tiles — Suriya’s eyes followed, hungry.
“I already have a plan.”
He stopped — looked at Suriya.
“Give me your bike. I’ll leave at 8:20 — 20 minutes early that i usually go out, like i will make sure She notices i leave in your bike, i will make sure i pretend like i g o in rush so i forget to take duplicate key. I will Fake an accident outside. With your connections, take me somewhere for a fake bandage. I’ll act — broken leg, hand. I called you first because its your bike. Post-bandage, drive me to her college. Start talking. Tell her about my accident. Say I need a 2 PM check-up. tell her i had kept my documents in house and you need the key, Get the key. Tell her he needs to udpate you about my treatment and get her phone number and Come back.
Perfect start. Entry to her house. Number. You get both .
I will act broken for a week, so that you always have free access to our house, just to take care of me.
Suriya leapt up — joy burst across his face — he grabbed Jeeva’s face — planted a loud kiss on his cheek.
“Bro — if I’d met you a year ago, Anandhi would have been eight months pregnant by now, i can guarantee you that!”
Jeeva pushed him back gently — voice firm.
“No — don’t overreact. The access is just for you to enter. Go slow. Gentle. Sincere. Don’t show lust. Women read eyes.”
Suriya nodded — serious again.
“Got it. Perfect, bro.”
Coffee cooled.
Plan sealed.
Jeeva’s game began.
Jeeva decided on the go — no more waiting, no more hesitation. The morning confrontation with Anandhi had lit a fire under him. She wasn’t ready to hear about remarriage. She wasn’t ready to let Rahul go. But she was starting to lean on him — emotionally, physically — and that dependence was dangerous. If she kept falling for “Jeeva,” she’d never move on when he vanished.
He needed Suriya in her life — fast.
Before his body failed.
Before her hope turned to love for the wrong man.
After Anandhi left for college with the kids — saree swaying, pallu pinned, a quiet “See you in the evening” over her shoulder — Jeeva walked straight to Suriya’s door.
He knocked — three firm raps.
The door creaked open.
Suriya lounged on his sagging sofa — shirtless — sweat still glistening on his chiseled six-pack from whatever early workout he’d finished. White skin taut over muscle. Shorts hugged thick thighs. He leaned back, one arm slung over the cushion, coffee mug in hand, steam curling up.
“Whenever you come here, my blood pressure spikes,” Suriya said — voice gruff but edged with a smirk.
Jeeva stepped inside — door clicking shut behind him.
“Cool down,” he said. “So what’s your plan? When do you start?”
Suriya scratched his jaw — broad hand rasping against stubble.
“No real plans yet. First, I need to get into your home. Never been inside. She’s never welcomed me. Breaking in is the start — what do you say? So I can talk. Look in her eyes.”
Jeeva froze for a second — the bluntness hit hard.
It would take a long time.
But he was glad — Suriya was thinking romantically, not just pervetly.
“After all,” Suriya added, eyes glinting, “I’m going to be her husband and father to the kids.”
Jeeva felt something inside him melt — a painful, reluctant relief.
That was exactly what he wanted.
Whatever the cost, he’d root them together. Manipulate. Marry them legally. Give her safety. Give the kids a protector.
“Surya — her guard?” he asked quietly.
Suriya nodded — serious now.
Jeeva paused — coffee mug warm in his hand as Suriya poured him one. The bitter aroma filled the room.
Surya’s eager gaze bore into him.
Jeeva sipped — scalding on his tongue.
“I don’t think an invite will work,” he said. “You need a free ticket — entry and exit — so it’s routine. Anandhi won’t suspect. You’ll get closer.”
Suriya’s eyes lit up — he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Cool — bravo — but how?”
Jeeva paced — sandals scuffing the tiles — Suriya’s eyes followed, hungry.
“I already have a plan.”
He stopped — looked at Suriya.
“Give me your bike. I’ll leave at 8:20 — 20 minutes early that i usually go out, like i will make sure She notices i leave in your bike, i will make sure i pretend like i g o in rush so i forget to take duplicate key. I will Fake an accident outside. With your connections, take me somewhere for a fake bandage. I’ll act — broken leg, hand. I called you first because its your bike. Post-bandage, drive me to her college. Start talking. Tell her about my accident. Say I need a 2 PM check-up. tell her i had kept my documents in house and you need the key, Get the key. Tell her he needs to udpate you about my treatment and get her phone number and Come back.
Perfect start. Entry to her house. Number. You get both .
I will act broken for a week, so that you always have free access to our house, just to take care of me.
Suriya leapt up — joy burst across his face — he grabbed Jeeva’s face — planted a loud kiss on his cheek.
“Bro — if I’d met you a year ago, Anandhi would have been eight months pregnant by now, i can guarantee you that!”
Jeeva pushed him back gently — voice firm.
“No — don’t overreact. The access is just for you to enter. Go slow. Gentle. Sincere. Don’t show lust. Women read eyes.”
Suriya nodded — serious again.
“Got it. Perfect, bro.”
Coffee cooled.
Plan sealed.
Jeeva’s game began.
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