Adultery NISHA:: A Hot Spy -Female Investigator Officer - Secret mission

[girrich9486]

Rajesh pushed the apartment door open a little after seven-thirty. The familiar click of the lock and the soft smell of cumin and fresh roti met him at once. He set his laptop bag down by the shoe rack, rolled his shoulders to ease the stiffness from a long day, and stepped further inside—then stopped.
Two strangers were in his living room.
A man in his early thirties rose from the sofa. Beside him a woman in a simple cotton saree stood as well, the pallu tucked neatly at her waist. She folded her hands and offered a quiet namaste.
Rajesh’s brows drew together.
“Who are you?” His tone was polite but clearly surprised. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
The woman answered first, voice calm and respectful.
“Namaste, sir. My name is Priya. This is my husband, Raghu.” She gestured lightly toward the man. “He works in Nisha madam’s team—he’s a security officer officer under her. There has been some threat to our family recently. Nisha madam asked us to stay here for a few days. She didn’t want us alone at our place until things settle.”
Raghu added hardly , “We’re very grateful for the help, sir. We’ll try not to be any trouble.”
Rajesh looked from one to the other, then toward the closed door of the spare bedroom where the soft sounds of a baby could be heard. He processed the information for a moment and finally gave a short nod.
“If Nisha arranged it, then it’s fine. You’re welcome.”
His gaze lingered a second longer on Priya. Nisha almost never wore a saree at home—practical shirts, jeans, or simple salwar suits were her usual clothes. Seeing another woman moving comfortably around his living room in a saree made the space feel subtly different, as if the usual rhythm of the house had shifted. He said nothing about it.
“I’ll just freshen up,” he said, and disappeared into the bedroom.
Fifteen minutes later he came out in a clean cotton shirt and trousers, hair still damp from a quick shower. The dining table was already set for three. Nisha’s plate sat empty; she had not yet returned from duty.
Priya stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a small towel. The soft rustle of her saree accompanied her as she approached.
“Sir, please come and eat. Food is ready.”
Rajesh lifted a hand in polite refusal.
“Thank you, but I’ll wait for Nisha. Or I can manage something later.”
Priya shook her head gently and pulled out the chair opposite the empty place setting.
“Please, sir. Nisha madam will be late—you know how her duty is. The food will get cold. Sit. I’ve made simple things only—dal, rice, sabzi, and fresh roti. Nothing heavy.”
She stood there, waiting, the request quiet but persistent. After a brief pause Rajesh gave a small, resigned smile and walked to the table.
“All right. You’ve gone to the trouble.”
He sat. Priya served him carefully—first a ladle of dal, then rice, a portion of the vegetable curry, and two soft rotis placed neatly on the side of the plate. The movements were practiced and attentive, exactly the way she might have served guests in her own home.
Raghu remained taking rest  in the living room with the baby, . The apartment felt unusually quiet without Nisha’s presence.
Rajesh took the first bite, then looked up.
“It’s good. Really. Thank you.”
Priya inclined her head, a small, pleased smile touching her lips.
“I’m glad, sir. Eat properly. I’ll keep Nisha madam’s plate warm for when she comes.”
She returned to the kitchen, the soft sound of her saree following her, while Rajesh continued his meal in the temporary, carefully arranged household his wife had created.....


It was a little past ten when the key turned in the lock.
Priya, who had been sitting on the edge of the sofa with a magazine she wasn’t really reading, rose at once and opened the door.
Nisha stepped inside, looking tired. Her hair was slightly undone, and the practical shirt and trousers she wore for duty showed the long hours she had put in. She stopped short when she saw Priya still awake.
“Hey, Priya… you can go and sleep. Why are you still up?”
Priya offered a small smile.
“Waiting for you, madam.”
Nisha shook her head, already toeing off her shoes.
“No need of waiting. Did you eat?”
“No, madam. I thought we could eat together when you came.”
Nisha’s expression softened for a moment, but she only nodded.
“All right. Let me freshen up first.”
She disappeared into the bedroom. The sound of the bathroom door closing followed a few seconds later.
In the living room Rajesh looked up from the newspaper he had been pretending to read. When Nisha emerged ten minutes later in a simple cotton night suit, hair damp and face freshly washed, he spoke quietly so the sound wouldn’t carry to the spare room.
“Why did you keep them here?”
Nisha met his eyes without hesitation.
“It’s my responsibility. Because of some negligence on my part, Raghu got injured during an operation. Until the threat around his family settles, they stay here. A few days. That’s all.”
Rajesh studied her face for a moment, then gave a short nod. He had already accepted the arrangement earlier; the explanation only confirmed it.
Nisha glanced toward the kitchen.
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes,” Rajesh replied. “Priya served food.”
“Okay. Good.”
She walked into the dining area. Priya was already warming the remaining dishes. Within minutes two plates were set—dal, rice, sabzi, and soft rotis kept aside. Nisha and Priya sat opposite each other and began to eat in comfortable silence at first, then with quiet conversation about nothing important: the baby’s sleep, the mild weather, how long the current case might stretch.
When the plates were empty, Priya collected them and carried everything to the sink. Nisha rose, stretching the stiffness from her shoulders.
“Thank you for waiting, Priya. Now go rest. Tomorrow will come early.”
Priya inclined her head.
“Good night, madam.”
She slipped into the spare bedroom where Raghu and the baby were already settled. Nisha turned off the main lights and walked with Rajesh to their own room. The apartment fell quiet again—three adults and one small child under the same roof, each behind a closed door, the temporary household settling into another night......