07-06-2026, 05:43 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-06-2026, 05:46 PM by heygiwriter. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 1 - Tharun entry and Nikitha's Slap.
A week had passed since Mohan’s dramatic termination shook the second floor of MX Century Gaming Company. The initial shock had slowly faded into the familiar chaotic rhythm of crunch deadlines, endless stand-up meetings, cold coffee, and late-night bug-fixing sessions. Yet today felt different. A buzz of curiosity and nervous excitement hung in the air like the static before a big release.
The entire team — nearly forty people — had gathered near the open collaborative workspace for a quick welcome session. The fluorescent lights reflected off the glass partitions covered with sticky notes and sprint boards. At the center of attention stood the new arrival: Tharun, the newly appointed Manager for the Bangalore branch.
At 30, Tharun had an effortlessly commanding presence. He wasn’t the bulky gym-bro type, but his fitted navy blue formal shirt stretched nicely across his broad shoulders and hinted at a well-toned, athletic physique, the result of disciplined workouts rather than showy bulk. His stylish, neatly trimmed beard framed a sharp jawline, and his hair was combed with that perfect, effortless wave. He looked like a Malayalam film hero who had traded the silver screen for corporate life — manly, decent, and dangerously charming. His deep, calm voice carried a subtle Malayalam lilt that somehow made even technical jargon sound appealing.
“Hi everyone,” Tharun began with a warm, confident smile that reached his eyes. “I’m Tharun . I was heading engineering as Chief Engineer at the Calicut branch. With the aggressive timelines we have here in Bangalore, management decided not to wait for a fresh recruitment cycle. So here I am — I’ll handle managerial responsibilities in the first half of the day and continue as Chief Consultant Engineer in the second half. I’m one of you. A gamer at heart. I’ve played through every build we’ve shipped in the last two years. So don’t hesitate to throw even the craziest ideas at me. We’ll make this project legendary together.”
A ripple of appreciative murmurs went through the crowd.
Sharmi, standing in the front row, immediately leaned toward Priya, eyes wide. “Oh my god… he’s actually hot,” she whispered a little too loudly. “Like, proper main-lead energy.”
Anjali, never shy, stepped forward with a bright, confident smile, adjusting her kurti. “I’d be happy to show you around and help you settle in, Tharun sir. I know how overwhelming the Bangalore branch can be on the first day , all the overlapping sprints and toolchains.”
Tharun smiled politely and nodded in thanks. But his gaze didn’t stay on Anjali for long.
His eyes, sharp and observant, swept across the group and paused noticeably on Nikitha. She stood a little behind the others in a graceful peach saree, the fabric dbanging elegantly over her curvaceous figure. The pallu rested neatly on her shoulder, accentuating her full breasts and the soft curve of her waist. Her long hair was tied in a neat bun, with a few rebellious strands framing her face. At 27, she looked every bit the elegant, composed senior gameplay engineer, professional on the surface, but with an undeniable sensuality that was hard to ignore.
Their eyes met. For a brief, electric second, Tharun’s gaze lingered with open appreciation. Nikitha felt a small, unexpected flutter in her stomach but kept her expression perfectly neutral, offering only a polite professional smile. She looked away first.
Jay, standing near his desk with arms crossed tightly over his chest, noticed everything. His jaw tightened visibly. Especially when Anjali volunteered herself so eagerly and positioned herself right next to Tharun. The jealousy hit him like a punch to the gut.
By mid-afternoon, the tension had thickened.
Anjali had practically glued herself to Tharun. She walked him through the project boards, leaned in unnecessarily close while explaining team dynamics, laughed a little too loudly at his dry technical jokes, and even touched his arm while pointing something out on the screen. The entire floor could see it.
Jay’s mood grew darker with every passing hour. He kept slamming his keyboard harder than necessary, muttering under his breath. From her desk, Nikitha pretended to work on a level design document, but she kept stealing glances toward the new manager and Anjali. A quiet, satisfied little smile played on her lips.
Look at that, she thought, a spark of wicked amusement in her eyes. Day one and Anjali has already shifted to the new shiny toy. Poor Jay… his ego must be burning.
The breaking point came just before 6 PM, as the office was slowly winding down. Many had already started shutting down their systems.
Jay suddenly stood up, his chair scbanging loudly against the floor. Without a word, he walked straight to Anjali’s desk, grabbed her wrist firmly, and said in a low, possessive voice loud enough for nearby people to hear:
“I need to speak with you.. Come with me, to Storage room right now.”
Anjali’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of thrill and hesitation flashing across her face. But she didn’t resist. She followed him as he pulled her across the open floor toward the storage room near the corner. The entire team watched — some with awkward smiles, some with raised eyebrows, a few whispering immediately.
The door shut behind them with a firm, unmistakable click.
Tharun, who was standing just a few feet away reviewing a build report on his laptop, froze mid-scroll. He had clearly seen the entire thing. His expression remained carefully professional, but his jaw tightened and his knuckles whitened slightly on the edge of the desk. He chose to ignore it, turning back to his screen without comment. But the atmosphere in the office had shifted palpably.
Nikitha sat stunned at her desk, heart pounding hard against her ribs. The sheer public boldness of Jay’s move, claiming Anjali so openly right in front of the new manager, shocked even her. A strange cocktail of anger, jealousy, and unexpected arousal coursed through her body.
Evening at 6.00 PM
Evening came slowly, wrapping the MX Century office in the golden-orange glow of Bangalore’s setting sun filtering through the tinted glass windows. Most of the team had already packed up and left, eager to escape the long day. The floor was unusually quiet, with only the faint hum of AC vents and the occasional keyboard click breaking the silence.
Nikitha packed her things deliberately slowly, folding her notes, shutting down her system with care. Her heart was still racing from the storage room incident earlier. She glanced across the floor and saw Jay shutting down his laptop, his face still tight with lingering frustration and ego.
She took a deep breath, adjusted her peach saree pallu, and walked over to his desk.
“Jay…” she said softly, her voice low enough that no one else could hear, “can you drop me home today?”
Jay glanced up at her. For a moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes.
He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then gave a small nod.
The car ride to their apartment complex in Whitefield was thick with unspoken tension. Bangalore traffic crawled as usual — endless rows of glowing taillights, the rhythmic thump of auto-rickshaws, and the soft patter of evening drizzle on the windshield. The wipers moved lazily across the glass.
Jay kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. Nikitha sat in the passenger seat, her saree dbangd elegantly, the faint scent of her lavender perfume mixing with the smell of rain and leather seats.
For the first fifteen minutes, neither spoke. The silence grew heavier.
Finally, halfway through the journey, Nikitha turned slightly toward him.
“I want to talk to you,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Jay’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t respond immediately.
When they reached the upscale individual villa complex, the security guard waved them in familiarly. Jay parked the car in his usual spot. Nikitha stepped out with him and, instead of heading toward the external staircase leading to the first floor, followed him directly toward his ground-floor villa unit.
As Jay unlocked the door and pushed it open, Nikitha tried to step inside behind him.
Jay stopped abruptly at the threshold, turning to block her path with his body.
“Nikitha…” he said firmly, his voice low and controlled, “your house is upstairs.” He glanced meaningfully toward the stairs. “If you want to speak, do it in the office tomorrow. My wife won’t appreciate you entering like this.”
The words hit like a slap even before she raised her hand.
Nikitha stared at him, For a long moment, she said nothing — just looked at him with an intensity that made the air between them crackle.
Without uttering a single word, she turned sharply, her saree pallu swaying with the motion, and walked up the external stairs to her house on the first floor.
As Nikitha disappeared upstairs, Jay stood at his doorway for a few seconds. He pulled out his phone, quickly typed a message to the contact saved as “Wife”, and sent it:
He got back into his car and drove off into the rainy Bangalore night.
It was well past 11 PM when Jay finally returned. The drizzle had turned into a steady rain, drumming softly against the roof of the villa. He parked the car, unlocked the front door quietly, and stepped inside.
The moment he pushed open the bedroom door, he froze.
Nikitha stood near the bed like a vision of temptation and rage. The short silky black nighty clung to her body, the hem barely covering her thighs. Thin straps rested on her smooth shoulders, and the deep neckline revealed the alluring curve of her full breasts. Her long hair cascaded freely down her back. The intoxicating lavender scent filled the room.
Before Jay could speak, she closed the distance in two quick steps.
Slap!
The sharp sound cracked through the silent bedroom. Jay’s head snapped to the side as her palm left a burning red imprint on his cheek.
“You bastard…” she hissed, breathing heavily, eyes blazing with fury and unshed tears.
“In front of the entire office? In front of the new manager?
You dragged Anjali like your personal whore just because he looked at her?”
A week had passed since Mohan’s dramatic termination shook the second floor of MX Century Gaming Company. The initial shock had slowly faded into the familiar chaotic rhythm of crunch deadlines, endless stand-up meetings, cold coffee, and late-night bug-fixing sessions. Yet today felt different. A buzz of curiosity and nervous excitement hung in the air like the static before a big release.
The entire team — nearly forty people — had gathered near the open collaborative workspace for a quick welcome session. The fluorescent lights reflected off the glass partitions covered with sticky notes and sprint boards. At the center of attention stood the new arrival: Tharun, the newly appointed Manager for the Bangalore branch.
At 30, Tharun had an effortlessly commanding presence. He wasn’t the bulky gym-bro type, but his fitted navy blue formal shirt stretched nicely across his broad shoulders and hinted at a well-toned, athletic physique, the result of disciplined workouts rather than showy bulk. His stylish, neatly trimmed beard framed a sharp jawline, and his hair was combed with that perfect, effortless wave. He looked like a Malayalam film hero who had traded the silver screen for corporate life — manly, decent, and dangerously charming. His deep, calm voice carried a subtle Malayalam lilt that somehow made even technical jargon sound appealing.
“Hi everyone,” Tharun began with a warm, confident smile that reached his eyes. “I’m Tharun . I was heading engineering as Chief Engineer at the Calicut branch. With the aggressive timelines we have here in Bangalore, management decided not to wait for a fresh recruitment cycle. So here I am — I’ll handle managerial responsibilities in the first half of the day and continue as Chief Consultant Engineer in the second half. I’m one of you. A gamer at heart. I’ve played through every build we’ve shipped in the last two years. So don’t hesitate to throw even the craziest ideas at me. We’ll make this project legendary together.”
A ripple of appreciative murmurs went through the crowd.
Sharmi, standing in the front row, immediately leaned toward Priya, eyes wide. “Oh my god… he’s actually hot,” she whispered a little too loudly. “Like, proper main-lead energy.”
Anjali, never shy, stepped forward with a bright, confident smile, adjusting her kurti. “I’d be happy to show you around and help you settle in, Tharun sir. I know how overwhelming the Bangalore branch can be on the first day , all the overlapping sprints and toolchains.”
Tharun smiled politely and nodded in thanks. But his gaze didn’t stay on Anjali for long.
His eyes, sharp and observant, swept across the group and paused noticeably on Nikitha. She stood a little behind the others in a graceful peach saree, the fabric dbanging elegantly over her curvaceous figure. The pallu rested neatly on her shoulder, accentuating her full breasts and the soft curve of her waist. Her long hair was tied in a neat bun, with a few rebellious strands framing her face. At 27, she looked every bit the elegant, composed senior gameplay engineer, professional on the surface, but with an undeniable sensuality that was hard to ignore.
Their eyes met. For a brief, electric second, Tharun’s gaze lingered with open appreciation. Nikitha felt a small, unexpected flutter in her stomach but kept her expression perfectly neutral, offering only a polite professional smile. She looked away first.
Jay, standing near his desk with arms crossed tightly over his chest, noticed everything. His jaw tightened visibly. Especially when Anjali volunteered herself so eagerly and positioned herself right next to Tharun. The jealousy hit him like a punch to the gut.
By mid-afternoon, the tension had thickened.
Anjali had practically glued herself to Tharun. She walked him through the project boards, leaned in unnecessarily close while explaining team dynamics, laughed a little too loudly at his dry technical jokes, and even touched his arm while pointing something out on the screen. The entire floor could see it.
Jay’s mood grew darker with every passing hour. He kept slamming his keyboard harder than necessary, muttering under his breath. From her desk, Nikitha pretended to work on a level design document, but she kept stealing glances toward the new manager and Anjali. A quiet, satisfied little smile played on her lips.
Look at that, she thought, a spark of wicked amusement in her eyes. Day one and Anjali has already shifted to the new shiny toy. Poor Jay… his ego must be burning.
The breaking point came just before 6 PM, as the office was slowly winding down. Many had already started shutting down their systems.
Jay suddenly stood up, his chair scbanging loudly against the floor. Without a word, he walked straight to Anjali’s desk, grabbed her wrist firmly, and said in a low, possessive voice loud enough for nearby people to hear:
“I need to speak with you.. Come with me, to Storage room right now.”
Anjali’s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of thrill and hesitation flashing across her face. But she didn’t resist. She followed him as he pulled her across the open floor toward the storage room near the corner. The entire team watched — some with awkward smiles, some with raised eyebrows, a few whispering immediately.
The door shut behind them with a firm, unmistakable click.
Tharun, who was standing just a few feet away reviewing a build report on his laptop, froze mid-scroll. He had clearly seen the entire thing. His expression remained carefully professional, but his jaw tightened and his knuckles whitened slightly on the edge of the desk. He chose to ignore it, turning back to his screen without comment. But the atmosphere in the office had shifted palpably.
Nikitha sat stunned at her desk, heart pounding hard against her ribs. The sheer public boldness of Jay’s move, claiming Anjali so openly right in front of the new manager, shocked even her. A strange cocktail of anger, jealousy, and unexpected arousal coursed through her body.
Evening at 6.00 PM
Evening came slowly, wrapping the MX Century office in the golden-orange glow of Bangalore’s setting sun filtering through the tinted glass windows. Most of the team had already packed up and left, eager to escape the long day. The floor was unusually quiet, with only the faint hum of AC vents and the occasional keyboard click breaking the silence.
Nikitha packed her things deliberately slowly, folding her notes, shutting down her system with care. Her heart was still racing from the storage room incident earlier. She glanced across the floor and saw Jay shutting down his laptop, his face still tight with lingering frustration and ego.
She took a deep breath, adjusted her peach saree pallu, and walked over to his desk.
“Jay…” she said softly, her voice low enough that no one else could hear, “can you drop me home today?”
Jay glanced up at her. For a moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes.
He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then gave a small nod.
The car ride to their apartment complex in Whitefield was thick with unspoken tension. Bangalore traffic crawled as usual — endless rows of glowing taillights, the rhythmic thump of auto-rickshaws, and the soft patter of evening drizzle on the windshield. The wipers moved lazily across the glass.
Jay kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. Nikitha sat in the passenger seat, her saree dbangd elegantly, the faint scent of her lavender perfume mixing with the smell of rain and leather seats.
For the first fifteen minutes, neither spoke. The silence grew heavier.
Finally, halfway through the journey, Nikitha turned slightly toward him.
“I want to talk to you,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Jay’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He didn’t respond immediately.
When they reached the upscale individual villa complex, the security guard waved them in familiarly. Jay parked the car in his usual spot. Nikitha stepped out with him and, instead of heading toward the external staircase leading to the first floor, followed him directly toward his ground-floor villa unit.
As Jay unlocked the door and pushed it open, Nikitha tried to step inside behind him.
Jay stopped abruptly at the threshold, turning to block her path with his body.
“Nikitha…” he said firmly, his voice low and controlled, “your house is upstairs.” He glanced meaningfully toward the stairs. “If you want to speak, do it in the office tomorrow. My wife won’t appreciate you entering like this.”
The words hit like a slap even before she raised her hand.
Nikitha stared at him, For a long moment, she said nothing — just looked at him with an intensity that made the air between them crackle.
Without uttering a single word, she turned sharply, her saree pallu swaying with the motion, and walked up the external stairs to her house on the first floor.
As Nikitha disappeared upstairs, Jay stood at his doorway for a few seconds. He pulled out his phone, quickly typed a message to the contact saved as “Wife”, and sent it:
Quote:Emergency call with a friend. Will be home late, maybe midnight. Don’t wait up.
He got back into his car and drove off into the rainy Bangalore night.
It was well past 11 PM when Jay finally returned. The drizzle had turned into a steady rain, drumming softly against the roof of the villa. He parked the car, unlocked the front door quietly, and stepped inside.
The moment he pushed open the bedroom door, he froze.
Nikitha stood near the bed like a vision of temptation and rage. The short silky black nighty clung to her body, the hem barely covering her thighs. Thin straps rested on her smooth shoulders, and the deep neckline revealed the alluring curve of her full breasts. Her long hair cascaded freely down her back. The intoxicating lavender scent filled the room.
Before Jay could speak, she closed the distance in two quick steps.
Slap!
The sharp sound cracked through the silent bedroom. Jay’s head snapped to the side as her palm left a burning red imprint on his cheek.
“You bastard…” she hissed, breathing heavily, eyes blazing with fury and unshed tears.
“In front of the entire office? In front of the new manager?
You dragged Anjali like your personal whore just because he looked at her?”
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