17-05-2026, 01:36 PM
Chapter 134 - The Role Reversal
That same morning at Gowtham’s office, the atmosphere felt strangely light for him.
Varsha couldn’t stop watching him.
From her desk across the floor, her eyes kept drifting toward Gowtham every few minutes. He looked… different. Calm. Focused. Almost happy. There was no trace of the brooding, jealous man who had been shadowing her and Rahul for days. Instead, he worked with quiet determination — one tab open for company work, another for his own future plans.
She finally couldn’t take it anymore.
During a brief lull, she walked over to Rahul’s cabin under the pretext of submitting an updated sheet.
“Rahul… Gowtham submitted his resignation right, did he said any reasons?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Rahul looked up, surprised. “No Varsha.. I'm even surprised..
Didn’t even consult anyone. I don’t know the reason.
He looked quite… content.”
She asked did Prakash uncle said anything about his resignation.
Rahu said Prakash is busy, he has some meeting tomorrow, he had been working at his home
i didn't said anything about Gowtham resignation so far.
Varsha’s stomach twisted. She returned to her seat, unable to focus.
Meanwhile, Gowtham felt genuinely at peace for the first time in weeks.
His meeting with his old friend had solidified. They were launching an AI-based tech startup together. He had enough savings to survive comfortably for the next four to five months. For once, his life felt like it was moving forward on his terms.
He had decided: no more emotional entanglements. No love. No marriage. Not until he built something meaningful. He would focus on power, money, and respect. Varsha had made her choice clear. Sneha would remain his convenient outlet - nothing more.
When he opened his tiffin box at lunch, the aroma of Sneha’s homemade food rose up — warm masala dal, soft rotis, and the faint scent of her special pickle.
For a brief second, a strange, homely warmth bloomed in Gowtham’s chest.
She had packed this for him again. Even now. Even after everything.
The thought hit him harder than he expected. Suresh and Sneha still treated him like family. She woke up early to cook for him, asked if he had eaten, worried when he came home late. Suresh, despite knowing everything, still allowed him to sit at their table and eat the food his own wife prepared.
And here he was — fucking the man’s wife behind his back, scheming to keep her as his personal slut, and secretly enjoying the pain he was causing Suresh through every cuckold moment.
A sharp needle of guilt pricked his conscience.
They still care for me like family… and I’m destroying their marriage from inside.
But the guilt didn’t last.
Gowtham closed his eyes, took a slow breath, and let the darker part of him take over.
She is my lucky cunt.
That was how he saw her now. Ever since he started fucking Sneha regularly, doors had begun opening for him — new confidence, new opportunities, the startup idea with his friend. He truly believed she was his good luck charm in bed.
He took a bite of the roti, chewing slowly.
Let them care. Let them feed me. Let them treat me like family.
His eyes darkened with fresh hunger.
As long as I get to bury my cock deep inside her every night… as long as I can make her moan my name while her husband waits in the other room… nothing else matters. I enjoy this fantasy of fucking her when he watches or when he knows im fucking her..
The guilt faded completely, replaced by cold, possessive lust.
Sneha wasn’t family to him anymore.
She was his addiction. His stress relief. His lucky cunt.
And he wasn’t planning to give her up anytime soon.
after that resolution for his inner conflict got answered, he changed his mood.
He ate quietly, one eye on his future business plan.
By evening, most employees had left.
Gowtham was walking towards his bike when Varsha suddenly appeared at the entrance of the parking area.
She walked straight up to him, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him behind a concrete pillar, away from prying eyes.
“I need to speak with you,” she said urgently.
Gowtham raised an eyebrow but didn’t resist.
For the first time, the power dynamic had flipped — she was the one dragging him.
Varsha turned to face him, her usual confident mask, unbothered attitude cracking.
Her eyes looked troubled, almost pained.
“What are you doing?” she asked, voice lower.
“Why are you quitting the company?
Is it because of me?”
Gowtham stared at her for a long moment.
He saw the slight redness in her eyes, the way her fingers fidgeted.
For the first time, he saw real pain there.
It should have satisfied him. Instead, it irritated him.
“Why do you care?” he asked coldly.
Varsha’s voice wavered. “Why shouldn’t I care? Am I not your friend?”
Gowtham let out a bitter laugh.
“You never agreed to be my friend. Not once. So why pretend now?”
Varsha looked hurt, but she pushed on.
“What will you do after quitting?
How will you manage money?
Your expenses?
Why are you making such a rash decision just because I said no to you?”
He stepped closer, his voice turning sharp.
“Don’t be full of yourself, Varsha.
I have my own reasons.
and .... I don’t need to explain them to you.”
Gowtham’s eyes darkened.
Before she could reply, Rahul’s car slowly entered the parking area, headlights sweeping across them.
Gowtham’s jaw tightened.
He gave Varsha a cold, mocking smile.
“See? Your sugar daddy is coming.
Get in his car. Kiss him like you did near the gate last time.”
Varsha’s face flushed with shock and humiliation.
“Kiss? When did I—???”
But Gowtham had already turned away.
He swung his leg over his bike, revved the engine loudly, and sped off without looking back.
Varsha stood there, stunned, a confusing mix of anger, regret, and pain swirling inside her chest.
That same morning at Gowtham’s office, the atmosphere felt strangely light for him.
Varsha couldn’t stop watching him.
From her desk across the floor, her eyes kept drifting toward Gowtham every few minutes. He looked… different. Calm. Focused. Almost happy. There was no trace of the brooding, jealous man who had been shadowing her and Rahul for days. Instead, he worked with quiet determination — one tab open for company work, another for his own future plans.
She finally couldn’t take it anymore.
During a brief lull, she walked over to Rahul’s cabin under the pretext of submitting an updated sheet.
“Rahul… Gowtham submitted his resignation right, did he said any reasons?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Rahul looked up, surprised. “No Varsha.. I'm even surprised..
Didn’t even consult anyone. I don’t know the reason.
He looked quite… content.”
She asked did Prakash uncle said anything about his resignation.
Rahu said Prakash is busy, he has some meeting tomorrow, he had been working at his home
i didn't said anything about Gowtham resignation so far.
Varsha’s stomach twisted. She returned to her seat, unable to focus.
Meanwhile, Gowtham felt genuinely at peace for the first time in weeks.
His meeting with his old friend had solidified. They were launching an AI-based tech startup together. He had enough savings to survive comfortably for the next four to five months. For once, his life felt like it was moving forward on his terms.
He had decided: no more emotional entanglements. No love. No marriage. Not until he built something meaningful. He would focus on power, money, and respect. Varsha had made her choice clear. Sneha would remain his convenient outlet - nothing more.
When he opened his tiffin box at lunch, the aroma of Sneha’s homemade food rose up — warm masala dal, soft rotis, and the faint scent of her special pickle.
For a brief second, a strange, homely warmth bloomed in Gowtham’s chest.
She had packed this for him again. Even now. Even after everything.
The thought hit him harder than he expected. Suresh and Sneha still treated him like family. She woke up early to cook for him, asked if he had eaten, worried when he came home late. Suresh, despite knowing everything, still allowed him to sit at their table and eat the food his own wife prepared.
And here he was — fucking the man’s wife behind his back, scheming to keep her as his personal slut, and secretly enjoying the pain he was causing Suresh through every cuckold moment.
A sharp needle of guilt pricked his conscience.
They still care for me like family… and I’m destroying their marriage from inside.
But the guilt didn’t last.
Gowtham closed his eyes, took a slow breath, and let the darker part of him take over.
She is my lucky cunt.
That was how he saw her now. Ever since he started fucking Sneha regularly, doors had begun opening for him — new confidence, new opportunities, the startup idea with his friend. He truly believed she was his good luck charm in bed.
He took a bite of the roti, chewing slowly.
Let them care. Let them feed me. Let them treat me like family.
His eyes darkened with fresh hunger.
As long as I get to bury my cock deep inside her every night… as long as I can make her moan my name while her husband waits in the other room… nothing else matters. I enjoy this fantasy of fucking her when he watches or when he knows im fucking her..
The guilt faded completely, replaced by cold, possessive lust.
Sneha wasn’t family to him anymore.
She was his addiction. His stress relief. His lucky cunt.
And he wasn’t planning to give her up anytime soon.
after that resolution for his inner conflict got answered, he changed his mood.
He ate quietly, one eye on his future business plan.
By evening, most employees had left.
Gowtham was walking towards his bike when Varsha suddenly appeared at the entrance of the parking area.
She walked straight up to him, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him behind a concrete pillar, away from prying eyes.
“I need to speak with you,” she said urgently.
Gowtham raised an eyebrow but didn’t resist.
For the first time, the power dynamic had flipped — she was the one dragging him.
Varsha turned to face him, her usual confident mask, unbothered attitude cracking.
Her eyes looked troubled, almost pained.
“What are you doing?” she asked, voice lower.
“Why are you quitting the company?
Is it because of me?”
Gowtham stared at her for a long moment.
He saw the slight redness in her eyes, the way her fingers fidgeted.
For the first time, he saw real pain there.
It should have satisfied him. Instead, it irritated him.
“Why do you care?” he asked coldly.
Varsha’s voice wavered. “Why shouldn’t I care? Am I not your friend?”
Gowtham let out a bitter laugh.
“You never agreed to be my friend. Not once. So why pretend now?”
Varsha looked hurt, but she pushed on.
“What will you do after quitting?
How will you manage money?
Your expenses?
Why are you making such a rash decision just because I said no to you?”
He stepped closer, his voice turning sharp.
“Don’t be full of yourself, Varsha.
I have my own reasons.
and .... I don’t need to explain them to you.”
Gowtham’s eyes darkened.
Before she could reply, Rahul’s car slowly entered the parking area, headlights sweeping across them.
Gowtham’s jaw tightened.
He gave Varsha a cold, mocking smile.
“See? Your sugar daddy is coming.
Get in his car. Kiss him like you did near the gate last time.”
Varsha’s face flushed with shock and humiliation.
“Kiss? When did I—???”
But Gowtham had already turned away.
He swung his leg over his bike, revved the engine loudly, and sped off without looking back.
Varsha stood there, stunned, a confusing mix of anger, regret, and pain swirling inside her chest.
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