[heygiwriter]

Chapter 131 – Day 4: Priya's advice and Date Proposal


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Morning

The fourth day of the challenge began early. Vikram left for Bangalore before sunrise — same routine, same quiet departure. Mirnaa watched the car disappear down the road from the balcony, a small wave as always. She had grown used to his absences this week. She told herself it was work. She told herself it didn’t matter.

Bharath appeared in the kitchen doorway while she prepared breakfast — pongal, coconut chutney, coffee. His bandage looked less swollen today, but he still cradled his hand.

Mirnaa looked at him and said:
“Wait in the bedroom. I will change the bandage now after finishing the cooking.”

Bharath nodded and left. She finished the pongal, set the table, then went to his room with the first-aid box.

He was sitting on the bed, sleeve rolled up. She sat beside him, unwrapped the old bandage carefully. The wound was healing — less red, stitches holding. Bharath winced once when she cleaned it.

“You’re still taking care of me,” he said softly. “I feel guilty.”
Mirnaa smiled.

“You’re hurt. That’s all. Who else will take care of you then?”
Bharath looked at her — eyes soft, grateful.

“No one. Just you.”

She finished the new bandage. He flexed his fingers carefully.
“Thank you.”

They had breakfast together at the table. Quiet. Comfortable. He kept stealing glances at her while she ate.
“Let’s go to the hospital together again" 

Mirnaa nodded.
“Okay.”


On the Drive to the Hospital


Mirnaa drove, the Thar humming along the coastal road with the windows cracked just enough to let the salt air mix with the faint scent of her jasmine perfume. Bharath sat beside her, good hand resting casually on his knee, the bandaged one propped carefully against the door. The Goa playlist was already playing from yesterday — they hadn't bothered to change it. The music felt like an extension of them now, looping back to the laughter and ease they’d rediscovered in the car the day before.

Bharath turned the volume up a little, grinning when the first song hit the chorus — the same upbeat track they’d belted out yesterday.
“Day two of our car concert,” he said, voice teasing. “You ready to defend your terrible high notes again?”

Mirnaa shot him a mock glare, but her lips were already twitching.

“My high notes are iconic. You’re just jealous you can’t reach them.”

He laughed — loud, genuine — and immediately joined in, exaggerating his own off-key wail on the next line. Mirnaa cracked, laughter bubbling out as she tried (and failed) to keep a straight face while driving. She reached over and swatted his good arm lightly.

“Stop! I’m going to crash because of you!”

“Then crash. We’ll blame the music,” he said, still grinning. “Or better — we’ll blame yesterday’s ‘almost crash’ on me driving like a maniac. You screamed louder than the horn.”

Mirnaa’s cheeks flushed with remembered embarrassment and amusement.
“I did not scream. I yelped. There’s a difference.”

“Yelp, scream, same thing when it’s you grabbing the dashboard like it owes you money.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. The car felt smaller, warmer, the space between them shrinking with every shared laugh. Bharath leaned his head back against the seat, watching her profile as she drove.

“You know what I missed most about yesterday?” he said, quieter now, tone shifting to something softer, more intimate. “Not the swerves. Not even the music. It was just… hearing you laugh like that. Real laugh. Not the polite one you give patients. The one where your eyes crinkle and you forget to be careful.”

Mirnaa’s fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. She kept her eyes on the road, but her voice came out softer.
“I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “I noticed.”

A comfortable silence settled — not awkward, just full. The song changed to a slower one, the kind they used to sway to on the beach. Bharath hummed along for a few bars, then glanced sideways at her.

“Remember when we used to make up stupid lyrics to this song? You were terrible at rhyming.”
Mirnaa laughed again — quick, surprised.

“I was creative. You just lacked imagination.”
“Creative is one word for it,” he teased. “I still remember your line about the moon being ‘a big shiny spoon’. Poetic.”
She swatted his arm again — lighter this time, playful.

“Shut up. You laughed harder than anyone.”

“Because it was you,” he said, voice dropping just enough to carry weight

. “Everything was funnier when it came from you.”


Mirnaa’s smile softened. She didn’t reply right away, but she didn’t change the station either. 
The music kept playing. 
The road kept unfolding. 

The space between them kept shrinking — not with touch, but with shared memory, shared laughter, shared ease. By the time they reached the hospital gate, the car felt like their own little world again.



At the Hospital – Lunch Break 


The morning had passed in a gentle rhythm: Bharath settled in the staff room with a magazine, occasionally looking up to catch Mirnaa’s eye as she moved between patients with her usual calm efficiency. He didn’t interrupt her work; he just existed nearby, smiling softly whenever their gazes met. By lunch, the three of them ended up together in the canteen — the same small table near the window they’d claimed the day before.


Priya arrived with her tiffin box, plopped down opposite them, and immediately lit up with that mischievous grin Mirnaa knew too well.

“So Bharath is officially Mirnaa’s cop lover now?” Priya said, eyes sparkling as she unpacked her food. “Look at him — injured, brooding, all mysterious. So sexy.”

Mirnaa’s cheeks flushed hot and instant.
“Priya!”

Priya laughed, waving her hand dismissively.

“What? I’m just saying the obvious. If Vikram is always off in Bangalore doing whatever mysterious work he does, you’ve got a perfectly good backup sitting right here.”

Bharath let out a low, amused chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with his good hand like he was shy — but his eyes were dancing.
Before Mirnaa could protest again, Bharath stood slowly.

“I’ll go wash my hand,” he said, lifting his bandaged one slightly. “Be right back.”


He walked away toward the restroom corridor, leaving Mirnaa and Priya alone for a moment.

Priya leaned in immediately, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her tone casual and girly — like they were sharing a secret over coffee.


“Okay, listen. Bharath is hot. Injured-hero vibe, sweet eyes, that protective thing he does? Come on, Mirnaa. You’ve been so tense lately. Vikram’s always gone, you’re basically alone. Why not let yourself have a little fun? Just once. Casual. No strings. Bharath isn’t going to tell anyone. He’s crazy about you — he’ll keep it secret. Explore a little, baby. It’s normal. People do it all the time when things get boring at home. Doesn’t mean you love Vikram less. It just means you’re alive.”

Mirnaa’s eyes widened. She shook her head quickly.
“No, Priya. No way. That’s… that’s cheating.”

Priya tilted her head, expression softening but still playful and you too already dated right? alone for a week together in Goa

“Yes we dated but. 

Priya grabbed  ... Is it really cheating if it’s just physical? Just a little excitement? Vikram’s not here. He’s not giving you attention. 
Bharath is. And he’s not asking for forever — he’s just… here. Offering. You deserve to feel wanted. Desired. Not just loved from a distance.”


Mirnaa swallowed, voice lower.
“It’s illegal. Morally. I’m married.”

Wait did bharath asked you t o speak to me like that
Priya: no darling im hurt when vikram openly alleged something bharath didnt do..
i felt he is doubting your character, doubting you and you dont deserve
and dont i know Bhrath loves you and ready to give you anything.
Just give  him something back he deserve and enjoy yourself
Im suggesting you as a good friend.

Mirnaa still thinks.. her gaurd keeps relaxing

A minute later
Priya shrugged lightly, tone still easy, like they were discussing weekend plans.
“Illegal? Morally? Come on. Half the world has side fun and still goes home to their spouse. 
It’s not like you’re leaving Vikram. It’s just… a moment. A spark. Bharath looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world.
hen was the last time Vikram looked at you like that?”

Mirnaa looked down at her plate. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her pallu.
“I’m not sure…”

Priya reached over and gently squeezed her hand.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to be sure right now. Just know it’s normal. It’s human. If you ever feel like you want to feel alive again — even just once — Bharath is right here. And he’ll keep it between you two. No drama. No guilt trips. Just fun.”

How do you know bharath will keep safe
Priya said no two person can be idle in a distance place like goa, somthing must have happened but he says you two just dated, is that not enough he is a person who will keep secrets

Mirnaa’s heart was pounding. She opened her mouth to protest again, but the words caught. 

Priya’s tone was so casual, so light — like it really was no big deal. Like it happened every day. Like it wouldn’t break anything.


Before she could answer, Bharath returned, sliding back into his seat with a small smile.
“Miss me?”

Priya grinned wide.
“Just girl talk.”

Bharath chuckled, eyes flicking to Mirnaa.
“Hope it was good talk.”
Priya winked at Mirnaa.

“Oh, it was very good.”

The rest of lunch passed with lighter chatter — hospital gossip, patient stories — but the air had changed. Mirnaa kept stealing glances at Bharath, at the way he looked at her, at the way Priya’s words kept echoing in her head.

Normal. Casual. Harmless. Just fun.
No one has to know.

Before Leaving the Hospital

As they gathered their things to leave, Bharath stepped aside to “check something on his phone.” He quickly moved towards priya who was standing aside. 

“Thanks for that. thanks for speaking to her for me

Priya said: You safeguarded my secret. I’m just trying to help you guys connect ;)”

He said thanks

Priya: 
“It’s okay… 100%. You deserve her. Mirnaa doesn’t deserve a husband who doubts her and stays insecure.
 At least let her have some solace in you and enjoy her youth with you.”

Bharath smiled — small, satisfied. He said back
“Yes. She needs someone who sees her, not someone who suspects her.”

Priya:
“Exactly. I’ve got your back. Keep making her smile.”

He said see mirnaa might suspect us, let me move now bye..
She said bye. Take care of her.

Another trick silently executed — polluting Mirnaa’s mind through Priya, planting the seed that a little “solace” was not only understandable, but deserved.
Mirnaa, standing a few steps away, didn’t see the exchange. 
But she felt the shift in the air — something warm and dangerous settling in her chest.


On the Way Back


The Thar hummed along the coastal road, windows cracked to let in the late-afternoon breeze. The Goa playlist had ended sometime during lunch, and now the car was quiet except for the soft rush of air and the occasional honk from passing vehicles. Mirnaa kept her eyes on the road, but her fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel — a small, restless rhythm.


After a long silence, she spoke, voice low.

“See how Priya talks to us.”



Bharath turned his head slightly, studying her profile.

“She’s just being Priya. Playful. Honest.”



Mirnaa’s lips pressed together for a second.



“She thinks we’re… I don’t know. Having an affair. Or about to.”



Bharath let out a small breath of a laugh — not mocking, just soft.

“She doesn’t know we already had sex.”



Mirnaa’s grip tightened on the wheel. She didn’t look at him.

“Thanks for not telling her that day.”



“Why should we?” Bharath said gently. “It’s our secret. Our privacy. Even if we had sex again, no need to inform her.”


The phrase “sex again” landed like a small stone in still water. Mirnaa’s breath caught. Will there be one more? The thought came unbidden, sharp and unwelcome. No possibility. She shook her head slightly, as if to dislodge it.

Mirna recalls what priya tells to her when he is away.. she doesnt want to tell what priya told she turned on music system lets sing she invited to change the vibe.. but deep inside the injected thought winning her

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 131 - Continued 

Chennai 

The house had settled into its evening hush. Dinner dishes were washed, lights dimmed in the living room, the distant sound of waves the only thing breaking the quiet. Mirnaa walked down the hallway after changing into her nightgown — soft cotton, pale blue, the one she always wore when she wanted to feel calm. She paused outside Bharath’s door, hand hovering over the knob. For a second she almost turned back to her own bedroom. But something — guilt, curiosity, or the lingering echo of Priya’s words — made her push the door open instead.

Bharath was already lying on the bed, propped against pillows, the bedside lamp casting a warm amber glow across his face. He looked up when she entered, surprise softening into a small, grateful smile.'

“You came.”
Mirnaa closed the door behind her quietly. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that her knee brushed the blanket.
“Come,” she said softly. “Sleep on my lap.”

Bharath shifted carefully, wincing once as he moved his bandaged hand. He lay down sideways, head resting gently on her thigh. The weight was light, familiar. Mirnaa’s fingers found their way to his hair — slow, gentle strokes, combing through the strands with absent tenderness. No words at first. Just the rhythm of her breathing, the faint rustle of fabric, the warmth of his scalp under her palm.

The silence stretched — comfortable, heavy with unspoken things. Then Bharath spoke, voice low, looking up into her eyes.

“Mirnaa… I have only one wish now.”
She kept stroking, fingers steady.
“What?”

“I will go out of this home with the best memories. I want to forget the Vikram insecurity and claim on me. I want to ensure he too sends me off with a good note.”

Mirnaa nodded slowly.
“He will. He’ll send you off in good mood.”

Bharath’s gaze didn’t waver.
“No. I want something he whole-heartedly did before our Goa days.”

Mirnaa’s hand paused for half a second.
“I’m not sure. What do you mean by that?”

He took a slow breath, eyes searching hers.
“Shall we date again? Just on the last day? Shall we? I will ask Vikram’s permission.”

Mirnaa looked down at him, fingers still tangled in his hair.
“It’s better we stop. He won’t permit.”
Bharath’s voice stayed gentle, almost pleading.

“I just want to know if you are willing. I can speak with him.”

Mirnaa paused. Her thumb brushed lightly against his temple — an unconscious, soothing gesture.
“More than willing,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to send you off good… with good memories you always wanted. At first it was me who misunderstood you in Goa and caused a dent. Now Vikram… he understands you better but I think he is jealous and insecure like you say, so he spouts lies.”

Bharath’s eyes softened. He knew she was in the game now — fully, quietly.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Let me open up to him when the right time comes.”
A small silence. Then he asked, voice even softer:
“Will you give me your permission when he says yes?”

Mirnaa looked at him — really looked. The lamp light caught the earnestness in his eyes, the faint vulnerability he let show only to her.
“Yes,” she said.

Bharath exhaled, a sound almost like relief. Slowly, carefully, he lifted his good hand and slid it behind her neck. He tugged gently, drawing her head down toward his.

Their faces were close — breath mingling. He leaned up the small distance. His lips brushed toward hers.
Mirnaa turned her head at the last second.

The kiss landed on his cheek — soft, warm, lingering a heartbeat longer than it should have.
Bharath closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it. When he opened them again, his voice was husky, charged.
“I’m charged, Mirnaa… I’m leaving with good memories with you. A date…”

He let his hand fall back to the bed. She stayed bent over him for another second, cheek still close to his, heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. Then she straightened slowly, fingers slipping from his hair.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.

She stood. Walked to the door.
Bharath watched her go, the small satisfied smile returning once the door clicked shut.




Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Night


The house was quiet when Vikram returned from Bangalore. The flight had been short, the drive back shorter, but the weight of the day clung to him like damp air. Mirnaa had already gone to bed — or at least the bedroom light was off. He stood in the hallway for a moment, listening. No sound from her room. No sound from Bharath’s. Just the low, steady pulse of the sea outside.
He excused himself anyway — a quiet murmur to the empty air about “work” — and slipped down the corridor to the false wall near their bedroom. A light press on the hidden panel, a soft click, and the door slid open. The secret room was small, soundproof, lit only by the cold blue glow of six monitors mounted on the wall. Each screen showed a different angle of the house: living room, kitchen, hallway, balcony, Mirnaa’s bedroom (empty now), and Bharath’s guest room.

Vikram closed the door behind him. The lock engaged with a faint magnetic snap. He sank into the leather chair, exhaling slowly. The monitors were already on — motion-activated, always recording. He leaned forward, fingers moving across the keyboard.
He pulled up today’s timeline. Fast-forwarded through the hours.

First, the morning: Mirnaa changing Bharath’s bandage, their hands brushing, her gentle “Who else will take care of you then?” The way Bharath’s eyes lingered on her face.


Night in the guest room: Mirnaa sitting on the bed, Bharath’s head on her lap, her fingers combing through his hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. The silence between them thick with warmth. Then Bharath’s low voice: the date proposal. Mirnaa’s hesitation. Her “More than willing.” The moment he drew her head down — the almost-kiss, her turning at the last second, his lips landing on her cheek instead. The way she stayed bent over him for a heartbeat longer than necessary before straightening.

Vikram leaned back in the chair. His fingers drummed once on the armrest.

He knew Bharath would definitely ask for the date — another indecent proposal, another step deeper into Mirnaa’s guilt and nostalgia.
But Vikram very well knew he was still in control.

The documents from Bangalore were arriving tomorrow — the final pieces of Manya’s truth, the leverage that would flip her completely. Bharath could play his games, whisper his sweet poison, pull Mirnaa closer inch by inch. Let him. Every smile she gave him, every moment she defended him, every time she said “more than willing” 

He knows how to flip it.. 

Vikram’s eyes stayed on the frozen frame of Mirnaa’s cheek against Bharath’s lips.

He smiled — small, cold, certain.
“Soon,” he murmured to the empty room, “you’ll see everything.”

He reached forward. 
Then he shut the monitors down one by one.
The room went dark.


4th Day in Bangalore - Manya and Vikram.

Bangalore – Vikram’s Office – Same Day


Manya was confused. She came to Vikram’s cabin, hesitation in her step.
“Do you have anything to tell me?”
Vikram looked up from his desk.

“Just marry him.”
Manya still said:
“No.”

Vikram said:
“I’m waiting for some documents. It will arrive tomorrow. Once I get all in hand, I will tell you the rest of the details.”

Manya was not sure what else Bharath did. She wanted to beat him, but she was also torn — realizing power games.
She left without another word.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 132 – Day 5: The Turning Point

Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Morning

Mirnaa woke earlier than usual. The house was still dark, the sea outside a low murmur. She turned over, expecting the bed to be empty — Vikram always left for Bangalore before dawn these days. But he was still there. Sleeping. Deeply. His face relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen in weeks, one arm flung across the pillow, breathing slow and even.

She stared at him for a long moment. Surprised. Almost relieved. 
She slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on her robe, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Bharath was already there — standing by the counter, pouring coffee into two tumblers with his good hand.  He looked up when she entered.

“Good morning, my love.”
The words landed softly, but they hit her like a gentle shock. She froze in the doorway.
“What… what mood is this?”

Bharath smiled — small, tender.
“I love you.”

Mirnaa dropped her eyes to the floor. Her fingers tightened on the edge of her robe.
He stepped closer, voice gentle.

“Today the doctor said we can remove the remaining bandage completely. Let’s go for that.”
She nodded slowly.
“Okay.”

Then he added:
“Then I will speak with Vikram.”
Mirnaa’s head snapped up.

“See… I don’t know why I said okay. But after everything that happened — the insecure part — we should not escalate it.”
Bharath’s expression softened further.
“Don’t worry about that. I will speak with Vikram.”

She looked at him — searching.
“Do something. But don’t hurt each other.”

She turned and went to bathe. Bharath watched her go, the small satisfied smile returning.

Kitchen – Minutes Later

Vikram came downstairs, hair still damp from a quick shower, shirt sleeves rolled up. Bharath was standing there — waiting.
“Hey, Vikram,” Bharath said casually.

Vikram walked over. Stopped a few feet away.
Bharath smirked.

“Hope you saw how Mirnaa’s cheek got kissed by me. And I was sleeping on her lap. I bet you watched it. After that kiss… it’s like I already won. Maybe you won’t ever have access to her body. I’m gonna rule her.”

Vikram laughed — low, calm, dangerous.
“You remember that cricket match? Opposite team batsman hits a four, celebrates on the field. Team needs two more runs from two balls. He’s the last batsman. Celebrates early. Next ball — bowled out.”

Bharath’s smirk faltered slightly.
Vikram stepped closer.

“I know exactly what tricks you’re using. You can kiss her, hold her, even get her almost there. But she’ll stop you at the last second. Her guilt will rise up and pull her away. The act will stay incomplete. I trust her — and my love for her — more than you trust your games. The challenge is still on.”

Bharath’s eyes narrowed.

“Guilt? Love?” He laughed, short and sharp. “Stupid.”
“Fine. Challenge. Watch how she gives herself to me fully on the 7th night. She’ll wake up in my arms with no regrets — and you’ll know you lost her.”

Vikram laughed again.

“Challenge. I’m telling you again — hear carefully. Even if you get her on the bed, she won’t let it finish. She’ll leave that bed and walk straight back to me. I know her. You don’t.”

Bharath leaned in.
“We’ll see. Get ready on the 8th day to leave the house and surrender her to me.”

Vikram’s smile was cold.
“Keep dreaming.”

They departed.

Bangalore – Vikram’s Office – Same Day

Manya walked into Vikram’s cabin, face pale, eyes shadowed. The documents had arrived that morning — thick folders, scanned voice notes, bank records, emails. Everything laid out in cold, chronological order.

She sat across from him without being asked.
Vikram opened the first file.

“After you and your husband got married, Bharath didn’t stop. He used every method to break him. Silently. Systematically.”
He slid the first page across.

Incident one — the earliest: 

Three months after the wedding, your husband was promoted to senior accountant. Bharath leaked a false audit report to the board — claimed your husband had mismanaged a 15-lakh vendor payment. The board froze his increment for six months. Your husband never told you. He worked overtime to cover the ‘shortfall’ himself.”

Manya’s fingers trembled on the paper.

Incident two: Six months later, Bharath got your husband assigned to a new branch — 80 km away. 
Daily commute became impossible. Your husband requested transfer back.
Bharath blocked it, citing ‘performance issues.’ 
Your husband started leaving at 5 a.m., returning at 10 p.m. 
You thought he was just busy. He never complained.”

Manya’s breath hitched.

Incident three: When your daughter was born, hospital bills came to 2.8 lakhs. Some of them are Bharath's doing unwanted scans and extra bills , he pushed you guys indirectly.. Bharath delayed the company insurance claim for four months — said there were ‘discrepancies.’ Bharath expected your husband will ask for a help to bharath.. but he never done it.. 

Your husband took a personal loan to pay. He repaid it in secret, cutting back on everything. You thought the money came from savings.”
Tears welled in Manya’s eyes.

Incident four — the final push: Bharath openly threatened him — ‘Surrender Manya to me or I’ll make sure you lose everything.’ 
Your husband refused. Bharath escalated — fabricated a complaint about embezzlement. 

The company suspended him without pay. 
He fought the case alone, spent every rupee on lawyers, won after 14 months. 
But by then the damage was done. He never told you. Not once.”

Vikram paused.

“You never knew he worked evenings at a workshop and nights as a load man in a textile shop. He gathered every single rupee. You all thought he was just an accountant. But to protect you and your little family from Bharath’s shadow, he sacrificed everything.”


Manya broke. A sob escaped her. She covered her mouth.

“I never saw the pain. Never knew he carried so much burden behind. He is no more to even ask for an apology. But I truly loved him. My kid is a symbol of it. First few months I didn’t communicate with him. I was angry. But he made me calm down. Gave me space. Gave me respect. Never once said his troubles…”

She cried openly now — raw, wrenching sobs.

Vikram watched her in silence. Then he spoke — calm, measured.
“I know you want revenge.”

Manya looked up, eyes red.

“In a way, your late husband and I are trying the same. 
I wanted to get back my wife permanently from him.
 He did everything to keep you safe without his shadow.”

Manya said:
“You and my husband are not the same. He sacrificed a lot — left positions, left comfort — just to hold me. 
You… succumbed to pressure about your past. You lent Mirnaa out. Now you just feel safe trying to get her back.
You and my husband are not the same.”



The claim was brutal. Vikram knew it. 
Manya had touched a nerve — factually true, impossible to defend.
 He dropped his head in shame for a long moment.

Manya looked up again, voice steady despite the tears.

“I want to finish him. Finish Bharath. Do something, Vikram.”

Vikram smiled — slow, cold.
“Short or long?”

Manya looked confused.
“He cannot be punished in a day. He should experience his life.”

Vikram’s smile widened.
“Then marry him.”

Manya stared at him.

Vikram continued:
“Get the assets under your control. I will tell you the long-term plan to make him suffer.”

Manya’s eyes searched his. A long moment passed.


A call came in — Sawthi. She sent an address. Asked him to go tomorrow for a surprise.

Vikram replied: “Okay.”



Manya was still looking at him.

Vikram said:
“Deal?”

She swallowed.
“Deal.”

On the 5th day, Manya agreed to Vikram.
VIkram said i will send you what to do in upcoming days, you need to come to chennai day after tomorrow, i will get your accomodations ready!
done?

Manya: deal.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 133 – Day 6: Surprises & Surrender


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Day 5 - Evening 8 PM

Vikram returned earlier than usual — the Bangalore meeting had wrapped quickly. The house lights were soft, the sea outside a steady whisper. He stepped inside, expecting the usual quiet: Mirnaa in the kitchen or reading, Bharath in his room. 

Instead, he found Mirnaa in their bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by open boxes and tissue paper.


She was feeling heavy, Bharath spoke a lot, him leaving in two days, the laughs, their talks, she would definitely miss him..
She saw him packing things now, she felt a pain... 
She was just replaying the scene of Vikram packing things, replayed in her mind.
The good soul who stayed with her all the time is leaving.. but with a pain.. 
we should have bid a good by in goa,
he came here and get hurt by vikram 
she just wished for some magic that calms her mind
She was willing to give a kiss, a hug, may be more to calm him.. she confidently believes like Vikram, Bharath to loves her truly..

She was lost in thought...

Vikram paused in the doorway.
“What’s all this?”

Mirnaa looked up, eyes bright — almost guilty.



“Bharath is leaving in two days. He… got me these farewell gifts.”

Vikram walked closer. The boxes were expensive — sleek black, gold-embossed logos. He opened one: makeup kits, high-end perfumes, lipsticks in every shade. Another box: sarees — 50 or more, each wrapped individually. Pattu silk, Kanjivaram, chiffon, designer blouses, lehengas, Anarkali suits. A fortune in fabric and thread.

He lifted a deep maroon pattu saree — heavy zari work, the kind that cost lakhs.
Mirnaa watched his face.


“His hand bandages are removed now. He can work freely. He took me to the shop. I said no, but he pressured me. He spent almost 5 lakhs in one single day… just for me.”

She pulled out another saree — emerald green with gold border.

“He said for the next 20 birthdays, I need to wear these. He loves me too much, right?”

Vikram’s fingers tightened on the saree for a second. Then he let it fall back into the box.


“No,” he said quietly.
Mirnaa laughed — playful, teasing.

“You’re jealous.”
She leaned back on her hands.

“Bharath said he has something to ask you tomorrow.”
Vikram met her eyes. He knew exactly what it would be. He stayed calm.

“I’ll handle it.”

The night passed as usual. Mirnaa fell asleep against his chest — her head tucked under his chin, fingers curled against his shirt. She didn’t go to Bharath’s room. Vikram lay awake longer, staring at the ceiling, listening to her breathing. The sarees sat in their boxes on the dresser like silent witnesses.



Next Morning  ([b]6th  DAY) – Chennai[/b]

Vikram had to leave early. Swathi had sent an address — a surprise, she said. He kissed Mirnaa’s forehead before he left. She was still half-asleep.

“Be careful,” she murmured.

“I always am.”


Mirnaa and Bharath left for the hospital at 9:30 AM. Vikram headed to the airport at 10:20 AM.


What Vikram didn’t know: Priya and Bharath had planned something else. They are taking Mirnaa to movie hall 



Chennai – Private Theatre Hall – Afternoon


The theatre was a small, upscale single-screen hall near the beach road — one Bharath knew well. He had called in a favor from the owner, an old friend from his security officer days who owed him. 

The entire place was booked for the afternoon — no other patrons, no staff except one projectionist who had been told to stay in the booth. 

The lights dimmed as Mirnaa and Bharath settled into the middle row, wide plush seats, armrests up. Priya had “forgotten something urgent” and left just before the film began.

The screen flickered to life.
It wasn’t a movie.

It was a montage — carefully edited clips and photos from Goa. Their Goa. Joyful moments Bharath had saved: Mirnaa laughing as waves crashed around her ankles, 


Bharath spinning her on the sand at sunset, the two of them sharing ice cream under string lights, her head on his shoulder during a candlelight dinner, their hands intertwined while walking barefoot along the shore. 

Playful nostalgia ride — stolen glances, silly dances, rain-soaked kisses under a palm tree. Every frame glowed with carefree happiness.



Mirnaa’s breath caught.
“You… kept all this?”


Bharath nodded quietly.
“I couldn’t delete it.”


The music swelled — soft instrumental versions of their favorite songs. 


Then text appeared over the images:


“Mirnaa…
Every moment with you was perfect.
I want one more.
One last date.
Like in Goa.
The laughs, the hugs, the kisses, the embrace, the love...
One more memory.
Just once.
Before I leave forever.
— Bharath”


A voice note played — Bharath’s voice, low and emotional, recorded recently:

“I know I hurt you. I know I broke things. But those days in Goa… they were real. You were happy. I was happy. I’ve never felt that alive since. 

I’m not asking to take you away from him. I’m asking for one evening. One night. To say goodbye properly. To leave with something beautiful instead of pain. If you say yes… I will speak with vikram... Just us… like before.”


The screen faded to black. The hall was silent except for their breathing.


Mirnaa’s eyes shimmered. She was blushing — cheeks warm, lips parted. 
The montage had hit exactly where it hurt most: the innocence of those days, the joy she’d buried under guilt.


Bharath turned to her. Took her hand gently.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I always have. One date. One night. That’s all I’m asking. If Vikram says no… I’ll leave quietly.

But if he says yes… will you give me that memory?”

Mirnaa looked at him — eyes searching his face in the dim light.


“I… I already told you I’m willing. But only if Vikram agrees.”
Bharath nodded.



“He will. I’ll make him understand.”
He leaned in slowly. Kissed her cheek — soft, reverent.
Then he turned her face with gentle fingers.



Their lips met — tentative at first, then deeper. She let it happen. Let him kiss her. Her hands rested on his chest — not pushing, not pulling. After a long moment she broke away, breathing hard.


“But if we… if it leads to more…” she whispered.

Bharath’s thumb brushed her lower lip.
“Then let it. One night. No guilt.
And i actually want it.


You forget we had a deal, to slow down,
ever since returning back chennai, i didnt pressure it because, you seemed distant
let us have sex with your husbands approval.. a farewell sex
For us.”



Mirnaa closed her eyes.

“If Vikram agrees… then yes. All of it.”



Bangalore – Swathi’s Apartment – Afternoon



Vikram reached the address Swathi had sent — a quiet, upscale apartment building. 


Swathi opened the door before Vikram could knock a second time. She stood there barefoot, hair loose and slightly messy, wearing a simple white kurta that fell just above her knees. No makeup. No pretense. Just her — the woman who had always known how to unravel him with a single look.


Vikram was surprised

Swathi said, surprised? Yes we are shifting here, Krish agreed to move from Dubai.. krish soon leaving his business to his brother, you both has to slow down and focus on other business. 




Vikram stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him.

A moment of silence

She moved first — closing the distance in two steps. Their arms came around each other at the same moment. The hug was long. Tight. Desperate in a way only people who have spent too much time apart can understand. 

Vikram buried his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of coconut oil and something faintly floral that was just Swathi. His fingers dug into her back like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.



“I missed you,” he murmured against her temple, voice rough.

“Me too,” she whispered back, her own arms locked around his neck. “Every single day.”


They stayed like that — bodies pressed close, hearts thudding against each other — until the ache of separation turned into something hotter, more urgent.



Vikram pulled back just enough to look at her.
“Where’s Krish?”

“Still in Dubai. Wrapping things up. But the baby’s here — sleeping in the nursery.”
Vikram’s eyes darkened instantly. He glanced toward the closed door at the end of the hallway, then back to Swathi. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.


“Sleeping,” he repeated, voice low.
Swathi’s lips curved — matching his.
“Out like a light. We have time.”


His hand slid down her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine, then lower — cupping her through the thin kurta. He squeezed lightly, possessively. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away.


“You always did like playing with fire,” she teased.
He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

“I like playing with you.”


His other hand found the hem of her kurta, slipped underneath. Skin on skin. Fingers gliding up her thigh, teasing the edge of her underwear. Swathi’s breath hitched. She pressed herself closer, hands sliding under his shirt, nails grazing his back.


They moved toward the bedroom — not rushing, but not patient either. 


A game they both knew by heart. Vikram backed her against the wall just outside the bedroom door. Kissed her hard — hungry, claiming. His hand slipped between her thighs, rubbing slow circles over the fabric. She moaned softly into his mouth.



“Quiet,” he whispered against her lips. “Don’t wake her.”


Swathi laughed — breathless.
“Then stop teasing and do something about it.”
He did.


They stumbled into the bedroom. Clothes hit the floor — his shirt, her kurta, his jeans, her leggings. No slow undressing. Just urgency. He pushed her gently onto the bed. She pulled him down with her. 




Their bodies tangled — urgent, familiar. His mouth on her throat. Her nails raking down his back. The bed creaked under them as they moved together — hard, fast, almost punishing in its intensity.



She bit his shoulder when the wave hit her — sharp enough to leave marks. He groaned her name when he followed, burying himself deep, shuddering through the release.


Afterward they lay side by side. Sweat cooling on their skin. The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead. Their breathing slowly returned to normal.


Swathi propped herself on one elbow, looking down at him. Her hair fell across her face like a curtain. She brushed it back.

So whats happening?

Vikram told all the stories, and his next expectation is Bhrath would ask his hand on allowing mirna to date him...


Swathi asked
“will  you let mirna when Bharath ask for the date?”

Vikram stared at the ceiling, one arm behind his head.

“I’ll permit it. After a fight. Make it look real. Make Mirnaa think she fought for it — that she won something.”
Swathi’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“And then?”
Vikram turned his head to meet her gaze. He leaned close — so close his lips brushed her ear when he spoke.

He whispered the final game.
The words were quiet. Precise. Brutal in their simplicity.

Swathi’s breath caught. Her eyes widened.
“That’s brutal,” she said softly.

She searched his face.
“It’ll hurt Mirnaa more than Bharath.”


Vikram didn’t flinch.

“The lesson — the punishment — isn’t just for him. It’s for her too.”
Swathi exhaled slowly, almost a sigh.



“What if it goes the opposite way?”
Vikram pulled her closer, lips brushing hers.

“It won’t. I won’t fail this time.”


They kissed again — slow, deep, lingering.

Their bodies tangled once more. This time slower. More deliberate. As if sealing a pact.

They stayed like that until evening — skin against skin, plans whispered between kisses, the future of two marriages hanging in the balance.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 134 – Day 6 Evening : The Final Push and Mirna takes a lead

Chennai – Private Theatre Hall – Late Afternoon

The movie credits rolled.

 The screen faded to black. For a moment the theatre stayed dark and silent, as if the world outside didn’t exist.
Bharath stood first. He offered his hand. Mirnaa took it without thinking. Their fingers interlaced as they walked out together into the cool evening air.


Priya was waiting near the exit, grinning like she’d won a bet.

Mirnaa stopped in front of her, cheeks still flushed from the montage, the proposal slide, the voice note, the kiss.

“Priya… what was all that?” 


she said, voice a mix of embarrassment and fake anger. “You orchestrated everything.?? 

Priya raised her hands innocently, still smiling.


“I was just helping a friend. You two looked so good together in there. 
Don’t blame me if the sparks flew.”
Bharath squeezed Mirnaa’s hand gently.
“She’s right. It was my idea. Priya just… encouraged it.”



She turned of Bharath and said I said okay in the heat of the moment, but it’s wrong. 
I can’t do it. Even if Vikram gives permission, I should think properly. This isn’t right.”


Mirnaa shook her head, Bharath was upset 
but her grip on his hand didn’t loosen.



On the Way Back – The Abandoned Factory

The drive started normal. But ten minutes in, Bharath suddenly turned the Thar off the main road onto a narrow, dusty path leading to an old, abandoned factory on the outskirts — rusted gates, broken windows, overgrown weeds.

Mirnaa sat up straight.
“Where are you going? This isn’t the way home.”

Bharath didn’t answer immediately. He parked the Thar near the gate and killed the engine. The silence was heavy.
“Bharath… what is this place?”

He turned to her, eyes intense.
“See… I don’t know how else to prove my love to you. This building here belongs to that bigshot — the one who will always be trouble for you. 
I’m going to finish him today. If something happens to me… just tell me you love me from the bottom of your heart to my photo. That’s all I want.”


Mirnaa’s face went pale.
“Why are you doing this? Stop it!”

He opened the door.
“I couldn’t prove my love any other way.”

She grabbed his arm.
“I know you love me! I acknowledge it! You would do anything for me — I know that!”

Bharath looked at her, voice breaking slightly.
“Then speak to Vikram. Let us ask him. Let us say just one day. I need you. I want to make love with you.
I want to celebrate like a newly married couple — with flowers, decorations, everything. 
One perfect night before I leave forever.”

Mirnaa’s eyes filled with tears.
“None of this makes sense… 

Bhrath: So you don’t trust me? You think like Vikram I’m here only for sex? 
You know if I wanted I could take it.
 I’m just here… asking you to make love, not sex.”

She looked at him, struggling, her position incredibly complicated.
Bharath opened the door fully and moved fast toward the factory gate. 

He kicked it hard — the rusted metal groaned and swung open.
Mirnaa ran after him, almost crying.

“Bharath! No! No! Please! Let’s have… I will speak! I will speak to him!”
Two rough-looking men stepped out from the shadows — rowdies. Bharath kicked the first one hard in the chest, sending him flying into the wall. The second tried to grab him — Bharath twisted and slammed him to the ground.
Mirnaa screamed, grabbing his arm.
“Please! Please come with me!”


The rowdies groaned on the ground. One of them looked up, confused.
“Why are you beating us?”


Bharath pulled out his security officer ID and flashed it. You are the purse pickpockters right?

He acted like looking at the image in phone and said Ooops
“Sorry. Wrong information. It seems you guys are not the ones we are searching for.”

The men panicked and scrambled away.

Mirna asked what if they alert their boss. 
Bharath turned to Mirnaa, breathing hard but calm.
“See? I have controlled the situation, he pointed at purse pickpocket distratcion and said No worries.”

The drive back home was tense. 
Mirnaa was all tears, silently crying in the passenger seat. Bharath reached over with his good hand and gently wiped her cheek.

“Tomorrow we will be dating. We will have one good farewell night… but after that… I will leave this place. You should take care.”
She could not control her tears. He had manipulated her completely into believing he truly loved her.



Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Night

Vikram came back from Bangalore around 10:30 PM. 
The moment he stepped inside, he saw both of them waiting for him in the living room — Mirnaa sitting on the sofa, 
Bharath standing near the window.
He knew what they were up to.


But he didn’t know the full drama that had unfolded.
As he entered, the drama began.




Vikram stopped just inside the doorway. He looked from one to the other.

No one spoke for a second.


Then Mirnaa stood up. Her voice came out small, trembling, but steady.

“Vikram… you love me, right?”



He blinked. This wasn’t what he expected. He had prepared for Bharath to speak — to ask boldly for a date, maybe even push for sex. But Mirnaa herself?

“What do you want, Mirnaa?”



She took one step forward. Tears were already gathering in her eyes.



“Bharath loves me… a lot.” Her voice cracked. 

She wiped a falling tear with the back of her hand. “I want to date him. 

And… spend a night with him. 

Sexually. 

I will come back the next day. This is all I want. Just one night.”



Vikram didnt expect this, his eyes turned red..
The room went completely still.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 135 – Day 6: The long night and early morning of day 7.


Vikram stopped just inside the doorway. He looked from one to the other.


No one spoke for a second.

Then Mirnaa stood up. Her voice came out small, trembling, but steady.
“Vikram… you love me, right?”

He blinked. This wasn’t what he expected. He had prepared for Bharath to speak — to ask boldly for a date, maybe even push for sex. But Mirnaa herself?
“What do you want, Mirnaa?”
She took one step forward. Tears were already gathering in her eyes.
“Bharath loves me… a lot.” Her voice cracked. She wiped a falling tear with the back of her hand. “I want to date him. And… spend a night with him. Sexually. I will come back the next day. This is all I need. Just one night.”
The room went completely still.

Vikram stared at her. He had expected Bharath’s arrogance. Not this — not Mirnaa standing in front of him, asking permission to sleep with another man, tears streaming down her face.

Bharath stayed silent, letting her speak.

Vikram exhaled slowly. His voice came out cool, almost detached.

“If you want to date him… date him. If you want to have sex with him… do it. I won’t stop you.”

Mirnaa’s shoulders shook. She couldn’t look at him. Tears kept falling — silent, unstoppable.
“But don’t say he loves you,” Vikram added quietly.
Mirnaa’s breath hitched. She pressed her lips together hard, trying to hold back a sob.

Vikram stood up from the armchair he’d sat in. He walked to the wooden almirah against the wall. His fist clenched — knuckles white. Then he swung.
The punch landed hard. Wood cracked visibly — a long splintered line running down the door. The sound echoed in the room.
Mirnaa flinched.

Vikram turned back to them, breathing steady again.
“But let me tell you clearly — I’m just allowing it. I’m not okay with this. I hate the idea of you sleeping with him. I hate it with every part of me. I’m only not stopping you because… you asked.”
He looked straight at Mirnaa.

“You asked.”
Bharath finally spoke — calm, measured.

“I won’t come again after tomorrow. I asked her to spend one night like a real couple. Our rooms will be decorated — flowers, lights, everything. Hope you don’t mind.”
Vikram’s fist tightened again — but he didn’t hit anything this time. He just stared at Bharath.

Mirnaa looked between them. She was torn — visibly torn. Tears kept falling.
“Vikram… just one day. Forget my absence. Please.”
Vikram didn’t answer right away. He looked at her — really looked. The woman he loved, standing there crying, asking him to let her sleep with another man.

Then he nodded once — short, sharp.
“One night.”
He turned and walked out of the room without another word.
Mirnaa sank back onto the sofa, face buried in her hands. Bharath moved to her side — not touching, just close.
Tomorrow would be the date.
Tomorrow would be the night.


Night 11 pm in virkam bedroom

The bedroom was dark except for the faint blue glow from the nightlight on Mirnaa’s side table. The curtains were half-open, letting in slivers of moonlight and the distant sound of waves. Vikram lay on his back, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Mirnaa had come in quietly after changing — the pale blue nightgown, hair loose, eyes still red from earlier tears.



She slipped under the covers beside him. For a long moment neither spoke. The space between them felt wider than the bed itself.
Mirnaa turned on her side to face him. Her voice came out small, hesitant.
“Vikram…”
He didn’t look at her right away. When he did, his expression was calm — no anger, no disgust, no warmth. Just stillness.
She reached out slowly and rested her fingers on his forearm — light, almost afraid he would flinch.
He didn’t.

“You didn’t push me away,” she whispered. “You didn’t look at me like I was… dirty. I thought you would.”
Vikram exhaled slowly through his nose.
“Why would I?”

“Because…” Her voice cracked. “Because I just asked — in front of you — to sleep with another man.”
He turned his head fully to meet her eyes.
You know exactly what you are doing, you know how one should see it , if you know it better then dont do it.. 


Vikram’s voice stayed even, measured. Im telling you again 

“He’s fooling you, Mirnaa. He never loved you. Not the way you think. Everything he’s doing — the gifts, the factory drama, the tears, the ‘one last night’ — it’s all a performance. He wants to own you. Break you. And you’re letting him.”
Mirnaa’s hand tightened on his arm.

“No. You’re wrong. Bharath… he almost walked into that factory today. He was ready to fight — to die — just to prove something to me. I had to drag him back. I saved him. And all he wanted was… one night. One real night. Like we’re not broken.”

Tears welled again. She wiped them angrily.

“We already had sex before. In Goa. It happened. It won’t be new. It’s not like I’m giving something I never gave. Just… digest it for me. One day. Please.”

Vikram looked at her for a long moment. Then he spoke — quiet, firm.
“I know you better, Mirnaa. He’s not proving love. He’s proving control. And you’re falling for it.”

She shook her head — small, stubborn.
“You don’t understand. He… he loves me.”

Vikram didn’t argue. He just looked at her — really looked. Registered every word. Every tear. Every tremble in her voice. Every defense she threw up for Bharath.

He registered it all.
Mirnaa tried to lean closer — to rest her forehead against his shoulder like she used to. But something inside her stopped her.

She felt it suddenly — sharp and cold.
She was the dirty one.


She was the one who had asked. The one who had kissed Bharath back in the theatre. The one who had said “yes” to a night of sex with another man while her husband lay beside her now.

Vikram hadn’t moved. Hadn’t pushed her away. Hadn’t looked at her with hate.
And that made it worse.

She felt filthy next to him. Like her touch would stain him. Like she didn’t deserve to be close.
She pulled her hand back slowly. Wrapped her arms around herself.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Vikram didn’t reply.

He just turned his head back to the ceiling.
Mirnaa lay on her side — facing away from him now — tears slipping silently into the pillow.

Vikram stayed awake long after her breathing evened out.
He had registered everything.
Every word.
Every tear.
Every defense.
He knew exactly what to do next.



7th Day Morning Came


Day 7: The Morning & The Departure


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Morning


Vikram woke to the sound of murmurs — low, tense voices drifting from the attached bathroom. His eyes opened slowly. The room was still dim, curtains drawn against the early sun. He lay still for a moment, listening.
Mirnaa’s voice — soft, pleading.
“Bharath, please… not now. Not like this.”
Bharath’s voice — calm, almost playful.

“It’s our date day. I thought we could share a shower together. Just like old times.”

Vikram sat up quietly. The bathroom door was slightly ajar. Through the crack he saw Bharath standing in just a towel wrapped low around his waist, hair damp, scar on his palm faintly visible. Mirnaa stood facing him, still in her pale blue nightgown, arms crossed tightly over her chest, face flushed with tension.

She was shaking her head.
“I said no. Not here. Not now.”

Vikram cleared his throat once — sharp enough to cut through.
Both of them turned.

Mirnaa’s eyes widened in panic. Bharath’s expression shifted — surprise, then a small, unreadable smile.
Vikram stood, robe hanging open over his pajamas.

“What is this?”
Bharath spoke first, casual as if discussing breakfast.

“Today is our date day. Thought Mirnaa and I could share a shower together. Start the day right.”

Mirnaa’s voice came out rushed, almost desperate.
“Vikram… I told him no. I asked him not to do this..

Vikram looked at Bharath — long, cold.
“Not here. And not now.”

He turned to Mirnaa.
“You asked for the night. That’s what I agreed to. Not this.”

Mirnaa nodded quickly, stepping toward Vikram.
“Yes. Tonight. Only tonight.”

Bharath raised his hands slightly — placating.
“Okay. My intentions are misinterpreted. I won’t lay a finger on her today… until night.”

He smiled — small, confident.
“I’m planning to take her to ECR Resort. Initially i thought We’ll stay there tonight but i need privacy... Private. Romantic. I want to carry her in my arms — like carrying my love.”


Mirnaa couldn’t meet Vikram’s eyes. She looked at the floor.


Vikram’s voice stayed even.
“No. I can’t send her out.”

Bharath’s smile didn’t falter.
“I need privacy.”

Vikram looked at him — then at Mirnaa.
“I won’t go out of this room. You two do whatever you want here.”

Bharath paused. Then nodded.
“Fine. Agreed. Tonight she stays here. I’ll pick her up sharp at 11. Carry her in my arms.”

Vikram asked what that nonsense

Bhrath said, i dont have permission to go out atleast allow us to do what we inteneded to do..


Mirnaa’s face burned. She turned away quickly.
“I’ll… I’ll bathe and make breakfast.”

She hurried out of the room.
Bharath watched her go. Then looked at Vikram.

“See you tonight.”

He left the room without another word.

The breakfast done quiet, bharath said lets go to beach now, lunch, movies, dinenr shopping and evening 9 We will be back. 10 o clcok decortation and 11 i need her.. he said once again to vikram 

Mirnaa couldnt see him, she quickly kissed vikram's forhead and said sorry, love you stay here.. i love you and went 

Virkam didnt movef from his place he heared Thar engine sound that slowly fading...

Vikram stood alone for a moment. Then he walked to the dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out his phone.
He typed a quick message to Swathi.

“Happening today. She’s going with him for date and sex tonight. Permission given.”
Swathi’s reply came almost instantly.

“Are you sure this will work?”
Vikram stared at the screen for a second.

Then typed back:
“I trust myself on this.”

He pocketed the phone.
The day had begun.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 136 – Day 7 Night : Its Vikram's Show Time



Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Noon

Vikram didn’t eat lunch. He sat alone at the dining table, plate untouched, staring at the empty chair opposite him. The house was silent — Mirnaa and Bharath had left hours ago for their “date.” He had watched them go: Bharath holding the car door open for her, Mirnaa giving him one last apologetic glance before climbing in.

He wasn’t hungry. He was calculating.

They had taken the bait — both of them. Bharath thought he had won. Mirnaa thought she had fought for something noble. They believed Vikram had surrendered, that he had given up.


But Vikram knew his control.


He looked around the empty hall — at the cracked almirah door, at the faint scent of jasmine still lingering from her morning flowers.


He spoke to the silence, voice low and certain.
“I lost once. I won’t lose again. This time… I will win.”
Hours passed.


Evening – ECR Resort & Return


Somewhere in the late afternoon, Bharath and Mirnaa had gone for water theme games — slides, wave pools, lazy rivers. Bharath played like a kid , splashing her, chasing her through the spray, making her laugh until her sides hurt. He knew exactly how to keep her mood high, engaged, happy — every moment building toward the night. 

They had a quiet dinner outside, seaside restaurant, candlelight, her favorite dishes. She ate little, smiled a lot, but her eyes kept drifting, uncertain, guilty.


Around 8:30 PM she pulled out her phone and texted Vikram:
“Should I bring you some food from the hotel? Your favorite mushroom roast?”

Vikram’s reply came almost immediately:
“I cooked for you. I ate it. If you’ve had enough, leave it.”

Mirnaa stared at the message. 
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. She just prayed his normalcy would stay — that he wouldn’t break when she came back.

By 9 PM the Thar pulled into the driveway.

Bharath waved casually as they entered. 
Vikram was sitting in the living room — single lamp on, book in hand but unread.

Mirnaa’s face was half-blushed, half-uncertain — the day had been joyful, but the night loomed.
Bharath came back from the guest room.

“Mirnaa, wear the pattu saree. Wear these flowers in your hair. Come like a newly wedded woman.”

Vikram stood from his place. Walked to the bedroom without a word.

Mirnaa followed him quickly.
They didn’t quarrel. Both were numb.

She went near him — close enough to touch.
“Tonight… after he is satisfied… I will be back. Even if it’s midnight.”

Vikram looked at her — calm, unreadable.
“I don’t care.”

Mirnaa shed a tear.
“Please, Vikram… understand.
He loves me a lot. I don’t know how I’ll prove this…
I’m stuck between two people who love me most.”

Vikram laughed — short, bitter.
“He doesn’t love you.”

He caught her face gently between his hands — thumbs brushing her wet cheeks.
“I know you.”

He released her. Sat on the edge of the bed.

Mirnaa sat quietly beside him for a moment — then stood.
She got ready herself: the new sandal-white mixed pattu saree, gold jewelry, fresh flowers pinned in her hair. 
She looked like a newly wedded woman — beautiful, traditional, torn.


Bharath had already decorated the entire guest bedroom — rose petals on the bed, fairy lights, brass lamp, glass of milk on the nightstand. He took a photo of the setup. Sent it to Mirnaa.

Vikram glanced at her phone from a distance.
“bastard,” he muttered to himself.

By 11 PM Bharath knocked on their door.

He was in a white shirt and dhoti — simple, traditional, like a groom.
They looked like a pair.

Bharath came near. Didn’t wait for anything.
 He lifted Mirnaa in his arms — bridal carry, effortless.
Mirnaa was shocked.

“I will send her back in the morning. Good night, Vikram,” he said.
Mirnaa dropped her head. She bit her lip — let it happen.

He carried her carefully down the steps. 
She was skeptical — heart racing — but determined. 

She decided to leave her hesitance behind tonight. 
To treat Bharath better — to give him the farewell he wanted.

They entered the guest room.

Mirnaa was astonished by the decoration — every detail perfect, romantic, intimate.
“How did you do all this alone?” she whispered.

Bharath smiled.
“Because i love you...This is going to be the biggest memory we both can’t forget.”

Vikram — in the master bedroom — connected his laptop to the CCTV feeds. Started watching.

He typed a message:
“Assembled ready?”

Reply:
“Yes.”

Vikram sat motionless in the dim blue glow of the monitors. The secret room was silent except for the low hum of the cooling fans. His eyes were locked on the feed from the guest room — crystal clear, every angle, every sound captured in perfect detail.



Bharath stood in the middle of the decorated room, looking at Mirnaa like she was the only thing that existed in the world.

“I love you,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

Mirnaa didn’t say it back. She just looked at him — eyes shimmering, lips slightly parted, caught between shame and something warmer she didn’t want to name.

He stepped forward and hugged her hungrily, arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her body flush against his. 
Their mouths met — not gentle, not tentative. A deep, starving lip-to-lip kiss. 
Their tongues danced immediately, sliding, tasting, exploring. Soft wet sounds filled the room as they devoured each other.
Mirnaa’s hands clutched his shirt, then slid up to his neck, pulling him closer even as tears slipped from the corners of her closed eyes.

Bharath broke the kiss, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers.
“We look like newly married,” he whispered, voice husky. “I’m going to undress you — one by one.”

He tugged her saree pallu. The heavy fabric slipped from her shoulder. Half the saree cascaded down, pooling at her waist, revealing the deep neckline of her blouse and the curve of her breasts.

He lifted her in his arms again — bridal carry, effortless. She gasped, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He threw her gently onto the bed. Her breasts bounced under the tight blouse as she landed among the rose petals.

Bharath climbed over her immediately. He kissed her boobs hungrily over the blouse — mouth open, sucking through the fabric, teeth grazing her nipples. Mirnaa bit her lower lip hard, a soft moan escaping despite herself. Her body was responding — nipples hardening, heat pooling between her legs. She was getting turned on, and she hated how easily it happened.

Bharath lifted his head, smiling down at her.
“We missed something important.”
She asked breathlessly:
“What?”

“You didn’t carry the milk to the room — the ritual.”
She let out a shaky, fake-playful laugh and lightly beat his chest.
He grinned.

“I need to taste your body with honey coated. Let’s go to the kitchen and fetch something.”

She followed — adjusting her slipping saree as best she could. 
They walked out of the room together. 

In the hallway, Bharath suddenly pulled her saree again — harder this time. 
The entire saree slipped off her body and fell in a heap in the living room.
She gasped.
“Why?”

He grinned, eyes dark with lust.
“A small kink. Let me detach your clothes everywhere in the house. Leave a trail of you.”

Mirnaa lightly beat his arm again, cheeks burning.
They entered the kitchen. She took a glass of milk. 
He grabbed a small jar of honey.

Back in the room, their lips locked once again — deeper, wetter. 
He pushed her onto the bed. 

Slowly unbuttoned her blouse. One hook. Two. Three. 
The fabric parted, revealing her black lace bra and the soft swell of her breasts.

He asked, voice rough:
“Undress me.”

Mirnaa’s hands trembled as she turned to him. 
She unbuttoned his shirt slowly, kissing every exposed inch of skin.
Finally she kissed deep on his chest — open-mouthed, tongue tracing his muscles.
He couldn’t wait. He tore the blouse away — it flew and landed near the door.

“Go easy,” she whispered, voice shaky.

She removed his dhoti. He was left in tight black boxer briefs, the thick outline of his erection clearly visible.
He undressed her petticoat in one tug. It pooled at her feet.
Now she was just in bra and panties.

They smooched again — tongues tangling, saliva mixing. 
Her body was fully aroused — nipples stiff against the lace, panties damp between her legs.
Bharath smiled. Turned his back to her.

“Undress me. Kiss your friend.”

Mirnaa pulled his boxer brief down slowly. 
His thick, heavy erection sprang free — veined, throbbing, already leaking precum at the tip.
He looked down at her.
“Did you forget?”

Mirnaa gave a small, naughty smile — shy but aroused. 
She leaned forward. Let her tongue tease the swollen head. 
Licked the precum slowly, tasting him. Bharath groaned deep in his throat.

He couldn’t contain anymore. 
He forcefully made her lie on her back. Pulled her bra away in one motion — threw it. 
Her full breasts shook free, nipples dark and erect.

He attacked them aggressively — sucking hard, biting the soft flesh, leaving red marks. 
Mirnaa moaned, back arching, hands in his hair.
One sharp pull — her panties came off. She was completely naked.


He spread her legs wide. Her shaved pussy was glistening, swollen, ready. 

He teased his thick tip against her entrance — rubbing up and down her wet slit, coating himself in her juices. 
Precum mixed with her arousal.
Mirnaa was in ecstasy — breathing fast, hips twitching.
Bharath whispered, voice rough:
“Invite me. Call me. Beg me.”

Mirnaa left her last trace of shyness.
“Take me, Bharath. Come inside me. Love me… as you always do.”

He spread her legs wider. Positioned himself. Pushed forward.
His thick penis tip entered her vagina — stretching her slowly.

Vikram — watching the live feed — pulled out his phone. Dialed and said
NOW.



Mirnaa lay on her back in the center of the bed, completely naked, legs spread wide, her body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, nipples dark and swollen from Bharath’s earlier bites, her shaved pussy slick and open, lips parted and flushed. She was trembling — part anticipation, part lingering shame — eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him.



Bharath hovered above her, knees braced between her thighs, his thick erection heavy and throbbing, the swollen head already slick with her wetness and his own precum. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear, voice low and rough with need.

“After a taste… I’m going to fuck you like mad, Mirnaa.”

He shifted his hips forward. The blunt tip of his cock pressed against her entrance — hot, insistent. He rubbed it slowly up and down her slit once, twice, coating himself in her arousal. Mirnaa’s breath hitched, hips twitching involuntarily toward him.

Then he pushed.

The thick head breached her — stretching her slowly, inch by inch. Mirnaa gasped — sharp, needy — fingers clutching the sheets. Her inner walls fluttered around him, welcoming despite the ache of his size. Half his length slid inside her in one smooth glide, filling her completely, the sensation overwhelming.

She moaned — soft, broken — back arching off the bed.

The phone rang.

The sharp, insistent ringtone cut through the haze — the special one Bharath had set only for Manya.
His entire body locked. Eyes widened in instant panic.

He reached blindly for the nightstand — still buried half inside Mirnaa — and grabbed the phone.
“Manya?” His voice cracked. “Why are you calling me?”
Manya’s voice came through — broken, sobbing, desperate.

“Bharath… I m in Chennai,I lost the way. I’m broken. I just need to hear one word.... Just tell me you love me…”

Bharath’s face drained of color. His hips jerked back instinctively — his thick cock sliding out of Mirnaa with a wet, obscene sound. She gasped — suddenly empty, aching, shocked — her pussy clenching around nothing.

He scrambled off the bed — erection bobbing, still glistening with her arousal — grabbing clothes in a frantic rush.

Mirnaa lay frozen — legs still spread wide, thighs trembling, pussy open and slick, swollen from his brief intrusion. 
She stared at him in stunned silence.

“Bharath… we’re in the middle…”

Manya on the other side, voice small and wounded:
“Oh… you married? Got a new wife?”

Bharath panicked, fumbling with his boxer briefs.
“No no! She is not related to me at all!”

He yanked on his pants, shirt half-buttoned, shoes in hand. He didn’t look back.
“I’m coming, Manya. I love you. You’re the only one i love... Where are you?”

He ran out the door — bare feet slapping the floor, leaving Mirnaa alone on the bed. and his voice fades.

She stayed frozen for several long seconds.
 The room spun. The rose petals beneath her felt cold now. 
The fairy lights mocked her — twinkling like they were laughing.

The man who had just been inside her — who had begged her to beg him — had pulled out and left her naked, dripping, open, for his old flame.
She sounded like a joke to herself.

Tears welled — hot, fast, unstoppable.
Is this worth fighting your husband for?

Her inner voice answered — cruel, clear.
You deserve it, Mirnaa.

She looked around — the beautiful decorations, the scattered clothes, the rose petals crushed beneath her body — all of it mocking her. 
The glass of milk still sat untouched on the nightstand.
The honey jar lay on its side. 

That's the moment, 
Bharath panicked, Mirna cried but one person smiled, he know its his victory.. 

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 137 – Vikram punishes Mirna.


Chennai – Guest Room – 11:35 PM

Mirnaa lay motionless for several long seconds after the door slammed shut.

The room was still beautifully decorated — rose petals scattered across the sheets, fairy lights twinkling softly, the brass lamp casting a warm golden glow. But it all felt grotesque now. The air smelled of jasmine, honey, and sex. Her body was still humming — pussy swollen, slick, aching from the sudden emptiness.

Bharath’s thick cock had been halfway inside her, stretching her, teasing her, promising to fill her completely… and then it was gone.

She slowly sat up. Legs shaky. Pussy still throbbing, aching from the sudden emptiness. His precum mixed with her own wetness leaked slowly from her entrance, trailing in a thin, glistening line down her inner thigh. 

She stared at it — the evidence of how close she had come to giving herself to him.

She stood. Naked. Walked to the door on unsteady legs. Saw her bra discarded near the threshold, her saree crumpled halfway down the hall — every piece of clothing a silent accusation. The scattered trail mocked her: the woman who had let herself be undressed piece by piece, who had begged him to take her.


She walked down the steps, bare feet cold on the marble, and entered the master bedroom.

Vikram was sitting on the edge of the bed  
He looked up at her — calm, steady, no judgment in his eyes.
Came soon why ?
“Did you find out he didn’t love you?”

Mirnaa looked at him — tears flooding down her face, body trembling, still naked, still leaking.
“I’m sorry…”

She knelt on the floor in front of him. 
Hands clasped together in front of her face — submissive, broken, ashamed.

Vikram rose. Took her arms. 
Gently pulled her up. 
Hugged her tight against his chest — one hand cradling the back of her head, the other around her waist, 
pressing her naked body to his clothed one.

“All right,” he said softly. “I still love you.”

He held her while she cried — raw, wrenching sobs shaking her whole body. 
She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in her world.

Then he pulled back slightly — looked into her eyes.
“Now tell me… who really loved you?”

She cried louder — voice hoarse, broken.
“You…”

Vikram’s voice stayed calm.

“But for disobeying, for distrusting me, 
for behaving in a way that broke our marriage…
I need to punish you.”

Mirnaa looked up — eyes red, but steady.

“Do whatever you want to do with me. Even if you throw me out,  I will accept.”

Vikram pushed her forcibly onto the bed.
My punishment is different...


“I’ve always been soft with you. Now you’ve been trained. 
Let me unleash my skill.”

He spread her legs wide. Entered her in one hard, deep push — thick, 
claiming, stretching her still-sensitive pussy in a single thrust.

Mirnaa gasped — pain and pleasure crashing together, 
body still slick from Bharath’s precum.

He smiled — dark, possessive.
“Where was this Vikram all these years?” he mind said...

She was still not believing vikram punishment all about this

Vikram opened: See you no need to find love out side and even sex when you have me.. 



He began to move — slow at first, deliberate, letting her feel every thick inch sliding in and out of her still-sensitive pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of their joining filled the room immediately — slick flesh slapping softly, her arousal coating him, dripping down her inner thighs and onto the sheets. Mirnaa moaned — low, broken, voice cracking on every deep thrust. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into his skin as her body jolted beneath him.



Vikram’s pace quickened — harder, deeper, relentless. Each powerful stroke drove the air from her lungs, made her breasts bounce wildly, nipples stiff and dark against his chest. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other sliding down to grip her hip, angling her so he hit that spot inside her that made her gasp and arch.


“Look at me,” he ordered, voice rough, almost a growl.

Mirnaa’s eyes fluttered open — glassy, tear-streaked, pupils blown wide with pleasure and shame. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear.
“I always feared hurting you,” he murmured, thrusting particularly deep, making her cry out. “

Now I see you can sustain. Get ready to learn from me.”

He fucked her for nearly an hour like that — unyielding, possessive rhythm. Slow grinds turning into brutal slams. Her pussy clenched around him rhythmically, milking him, betraying how badly her body wanted this even as her mind reeled. She came twice — the first one sudden and shattering, thighs shaking, a keening sob tearing from her throat as she called his name. The second was slower, deeper, rolling through her like a wave until she was trembling, oversensitive, begging incoherently.


Then he pulled out — cock glistening, veins pulsing — and flipped her onto her stomach in one swift motion.
“On your knees.”

She obeyed instantly — ass raised high, face pressed into the pillow, back arched in offering. Vikram knelt behind her, spread her cheeks wide with both hands. He spat directly onto her tight, puckered asshole — warm and slick. Mirnaa whimpered, body tensing.


He pushed two fingers inside first — no preamble, stretching her slowly but firmly. 
The burn was immediate, sharp. 
She cried out into the pillow.
“Vikram… it hurts…”

He didn’t stop. He worked his fingers deeper, scissoring gently, opening her. When she was panting, trembling, he replaced them with the blunt head of his cock. He pushed — slow, relentless, inexorable. 
The thick crown breached her ass, stretching her impossibly. 
Mirnaa sobbed — real pain now, tears soaking the fabric beneath her cheek.

“Breathe,” he commanded, voice low and dark. “Take it for me.”

He sank in deeper — inch by burning inch — until his hips pressed flush against her ass. She was shaking, whimpering, body fighting the intrusion even as her pussy clenched emptily below. Vikram gripped her hips hard enough to bruise — fresh red marks blooming on her golden skin — and started fucking her ass with deep, steady thrusts.

Each stroke dragged a new cry from her throat. Pain slowly, treacherously, began mixing with dark, forbidden pleasure. Her body learned him — adjusted, opened, took him. He leaned over her, chest to her back, one hand sliding around to rub furious circles on her clit.


“Who loves you?” he growled against her ear, hips snapping harder. “Remember who loves you.”


She sobbed, voice muffled in the pillow.
“You… you…”


“Say my name.”
“Vikram… Vikram… please…”


He fucked her harder — punishing, claiming her completely. Her ass clenched around him rhythmically, milking him even as tears streamed down her face. She came like that — ass impaled, clit throbbing under his fingers — a violent, shaking orgasm that left her screaming his name into the sheets.


After another hour of relentless anal he pulled out — cock slick and shining — and flipped her again. Prone bone. He lay fully on top of her, heavy, chest to her back, weight pinning her to the mattress. He slid back into her pussy in one long stroke — deeper angle now, every thrust grinding against her cervix.

He fucked her like that — slow, grinding rolls of his hips that pressed her clit against the bed, forcing friction with every movement. His mouth found the side of her neck — biting, sucking, leaving dark purple marks that would bloom into bruises by morning. Fresh claim marks on her throat, her shoulders, the tops of her breasts — territory reclaimed.

“Who loves you?” he repeated, voice rough, breath hot against her ear.
“Vikram… only Vikram…”

She came again — screaming his name, body convulsing beneath him, inner walls fluttering wildly around his cock. He didn’t stop. He kept going — heavy, grinding thrusts that dragged out her pleasure until she was sobbing, oversensitive, begging.

“Please… Vikram… too much…”
He kissed the tears from her cheek.

“You can take it. You’re always mine.”

They fucked for nearly four hours straight — switching positions, holes, rhythms. He came inside her pussy twice — hot, thick pulses that overflowed and leaked down her thighs. Once in her ass — deep, claiming spurts that made her whimper. Once across her breasts — painting her skin with white ropes that glistened in the lamplight.

By the end they were both breathless, sweat-soaked, exhausted. Mirnaa lay sprawled on her back — legs still spread, body marked with bites, handprints, cum, tears. Her pussy and ass were swollen, red, leaking. Vikram collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. She curled against his chest — completely surrendered, trembling, whispering his name like a prayer.


“Vikram… only you…”
He held her tight — breathing hard, heart pounding against hers.
He felt a breath of relief finally.
He posssively kissed her forehead.. 

He finally felt fine.
He just wished he could come clean before her soon. It was crucial after this. He knew it.
But he also knew he had to wait — until Bharath fully took his bait with Manya.
He knows the game had not ended, it will end only when he comes clean to mirna.. only when he stay away from dark network. 

For now Vikram won, the punishment he have wont be unforgettable. 

[heygiwriter]

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

[heygiwriter]

This is unpredictable suprise Bharat was win by entering on her

At that point the call from Manya I expect this earlier but you posted on right time

This is the braking point of mirna to think again on her

Super suspense thriller story time man

Thanks

[heygiwriter]

Lets see what readers expect or wish to see. With respect to each characters

[heygiwriter]

In your narration every episode make to think any one what next?

So what next

Guess it

[heygiwriter]

The way you wrote every scene was so vivid; could actually picture it. The dialogues felt incredibly natural and really brought the characters to life. Loved how you wove those different storylines together. This is so well-written.

Thanks

[heygiwriter]

Vikram is yet to come clean to Mirna

Manya had just started her game.

Adharsh wounded, he is yet to make a move

Krish and swathi settling in Bangalore.

[heygiwriter]

Thanks for getting back and reading the story again.. :)  glad you noticed a lot and thanks for the appreciation. The story's main idea is will the love find them when they go to extremes. Let see if the love in the going to stay or not!

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 138 -  Bharath Decision to Marry Manya - A Long Schema of Vikram


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Immediate Morning

The first pale light of dawn slipped through the half-drawn curtains, painting faint golden streaks across the tangled sheets. The room still carried the scent of last night,sweat and the raw aftermath of everything that had happened.
Mirnaa stirred slowly, her body heavy and sore. Bruises bloomed in dark patches on her hips, thighs, throat, breasts, marks from Vikram’s hands, his mouth, his relentless claiming. Between her legs ached, swollen, sensitive, still leaking the evidence of how many times he had finished inside her.
She opened her eyes and the memories flooded back in a rush: Bharath’s thick cock halfway inside her, the sudden emptiness when he pulled out, the way he ran without a backward glance, Manya’s voice on the phone, the way the decorated room had mocked her as she stood naked and abandoned.
Shame crashed over her like cold water. She felt filthy. Tainted. Unworthy.
She tried to curl away from Vikram, to hide her marked body, to disappear from his sight.
But Vikram was already awake. He had been watching her sleep, eyes soft in the dim light. The moment she tried to pull away, he caught her gently ,one arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
“No,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “Don’t hide from me.”
Tears spilled instantly. She shook her head, voice small and broken.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Vikram.”
He turned her face toward him — thumb brushing a tear from her cheek.
“Shh. Look at me.”
She did — eyes red, glassy, terrified.
“I cheated on you,” she whispered.
“I begged you to let me sleep with him.
I let him undress me, kiss me, almost… almost take me completely. I was going to give myself to him.
I was surprised… How can you even look at me normally?
Do you hate me now?
Do you see me as disgusting? Ugly? Bad? Tell me the truth.

If you can’t stand me anymore… I’ll go. I’ll leave. I don’t deserve you.”
Vikram’s expression didn’t waver. He cupped her face in both hands — gentle, firm.
“No,” he said quietly. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
She shook her head, tears falling faster.


“How can you say that? I was going to let him fuck me.
I buyed his lie that he loved me.. That thing hides my eye
I was begging him to come inside me. I—”
“You were broken,” he interrupted softly. “Manipulated. Lied to. Someone took your trust and twisted it until you doubted everything — yourself, me, what love even means. But you’re not dirty. You’re not ugly. You’re not bad. You’re my wife. The woman I chose. The woman I still choose. Every single day.”
Mirnaa’s breath hitched. “I feel… filthy. Like I don’t belong next to you anymore.”
Vikram pulled her closer — chest to chest, heartbeats aligning.
“You belong right here,” he said. “In my arms. In our bed. In our life. You made a mistake. So did I — I let it go this far. But we’re not defined by one night. We’re defined by what we do next. Let’s forget the past. Move on. Just you and me. No more shadows. No more doubts.”
She searched his face — desperate for any sign of disgust, any crack in his calm.
“You really don’t hate me?”
“I love you,” he said simply. “More now than ever. Because you came back to me. You chose me. Even when you were broken, you chose me.”
You did’nt defend, you learned your lesson, most importantly you are a victim here. Nothing of this is not what you wanted.. He made it look like you wanted it too. A perfect liar.

As he says mirna, continues to think herself low and realise she was easily manipulated and tricked.
Mirnaa broke again — but this time the sobs were softer, relieved. She buried her face in his neck, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left in her world.
“Im Sorry”
Vikram kissed her hair, her temple, her tear-streaked cheek.
“No, don't be.. Im too sorry for everything, Lets start new..” he echoed.
They stayed like that for hours — tangled in bed, no sex, just holding. Whispering. Breathing together. Healing in the quiet.


Last Night. When Bharath left Mirna alone in the bedroom naked –

Bharath’s Thar speeded through a secluded spot in Chennai, Which Manya informed — a quiet park bench under flickering streetlights, half-hidden by overgrown bougainvillea. The air was thick with the smell of night-blooming jasmine and distant sea salt.
Manya was already there when he arrived — sitting with her arms wrapped around herself, shivering despite the warm evening. Her eyes were red, cheeks streaked with dried tears, hair disheveled like she had run here in a hurry.
Bharath stopped a few feet away, heart thudding. Manya looked up at him — fragile, broken — and before he could speak, she rushed forward and threw herself into his arms, hugging him so tightly it knocked the breath out of him.
“Bharath…” Her voice cracked against his chest.
“I missed you so much. I couldn’t breathe without you.
Can we… can we get back together? Please?”


Im worried, some one is following me.. I just came to see you…
Bharath froze — stunned, arms hovering for a second before they closed around her instinctively.

“I’m here now,” he whispered, holding her close. “I’m here.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him — eyes wide, pleading.
“I was so scared. I thought… I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Bharath cupped her face, thumbs brushing away fresh tears.
“What happened to you? Why are you here like this? I approached you for years — I begged, I waited — but you never once looked back.
How sudden… why now?”
Manya saw him and asked why you didn't want me back?

No NO, im just happy and curious what changes your mind.. After years of approach
Why did you ignore me when I approached yo/? Why did you reject me?

Manya’s lip trembled. She looked down, voice barely above a whisper.
“Your family… they threatened me. All these days. If I ever got back to you, they said they would finish my kid. They’d take her away, ruin her life, make sure we had nothing. I was terrified.

Bharath asked: But i have been pursuing you even before you deliver the baby
Manya:  Back then… I loved my husband. After we are made split by our parents, my husband consoled me, he gave me hope, he is really  good soul. I couldn’t leave him and you married too and there is no necessity.. But after he passed… and you kept approaching, i kind of decided to move on…. Its a life i already lived in and you would understand me.. I took that decision not just for me, but for my child’s future… I started thinking maybe we could have a good life together. But the threats never stopped. Anonymous calls, letters, people watching my house. I didn’t know who — maybe your uncles, maybe your father himself. They always came anonymously. I was trapped.”
Bharath’s jaw tightened. Rage flickered in his eyes.
“My family? They threatened you? My kid?”
Manya nodded, tears spilling again.
“I feared for her life. That’s why I stayed away. But… I lost patience. As days passed, I missed you more and more. Whenever you come to Bangalore, some men keep their eyes on my house. So I ignored you then..  I came back to Chennai for office reasons, but that's a wrong direction, so I decided to open up to you today.. I came to chennai hoping to find you… but again, someone followed me. I’m in fear. I thought you might not reach here in time… so I just wanted to hear you say ‘I love you’ one last time. Just once.”
Bharath pulled her into his arms again — fierce, protective.
“I love you,” he said against her hair. “I never stopped. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry they did that to you. I’ll take care of you.
I’ll protect you. No one will touch you again.”

Manya clung to him, body trembling.
“You should love someone else too…”

Bharath pulled back slightly, confused.
“Who?”

“My kid…” she whispered. “My baby needs your love as well.”

Bharath’s eyes softened.
“Your baby is mine,” he said firmly. “The love is enough for me. Your love… I don’t want anything else.”

Manya looked up at him — eyes shining.
“Can you take me to your home. I dont know anyone here to stay?! I just want to meet you tell you this and decided to get back.. But after someone chasing it got late.. Let me stay somewhere and go back in morning, i left baby alone with mother”
Can you take me to your home?
Bharath stumbled — his mind flashing to Vikram’s house, to Mirnaa still there, to the risk of drama, of exposure.
“I… can’t take you there. Not yet. Im staying at a friends house. May be  Let’s stay in a hotel tonight. Just us. No one else.”
Manya nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
They walked to a nearby boutique hotel — quiet, discreet. He booked a room under his name. They went upstairs. No sex. Just talking. They sat on the bed, legs crossed, facing each other. Manya rested her head on his shoulder while Bharath spoke — reliving the past: how they first met at that college fest, how she wore a red dress that matched his shirt by accident, how they laughed all night, how he knew she was the one. Manya cried softly, told him she had missed him every day, how empty her life had been, how she had never stopped loving him.
He held her until she fell asleep in his arms, innocent, comforting, like they were young again.
By morning, Bharath was convinced.
He feeled he had no purpose to stay in chennai, as he had to go with Manya and start a fresh life.. He sent a message to Rishi quickly and said - Good news Manya and i are back.. He didnt expect a reply.. He kept the phone and looked at her and said
“I’ll join you in Bangalore,” he said.
“We’ll marry. Start fresh. Not just us two, it's three me, you and baby. Just our family."
Manya smiled — small, secret — as he packed.
He excused her to quickly take his belongings, from the friends house and take his car for enroute to vikram home to get back things.



Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – 12:05 PM

The midday sun poured through the tall windows of the living room, The house was quiet, too quie, except for the low hum of the air conditioner and the distant, rhythmic crash of waves outside. Vikram sat in his usual armchair, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of black coffee gone cold on the side table. Mirnaa sat on the sofa opposite him, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around herself. She was still in her pale blue nightgown — hadn’t changed since the night before. Her hair was loose, eyes red-rimmed, face pale.

Neither of them had expected Bharath to return now
The front door opened without a knock. Bharath stepped in, alone, he directly went to his room, and after 10 mins, he came out with two large suitcases rolling behind him, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked composed, almost serene, like a man who had finally made a decision.
Vikram didn’t rise. Mirnaa tensed instantly — her entire body going rigid at the sight of him. The memory hit her like a slap: him halfway inside her, whispering promises, then yanking out and running at the sound of Manya’s voice. Leaving her naked, legs spread, dripping, alone on a bed covered in rose petals. She couldn’t breathe properly. Her hands clenched into fists in her lap.
Bharath stopped just inside the hall.
He looked at Vikram first — calm, almost respectful — then at Mirnaa.
he said, voice even, “I’m moving out.”
He paused, eyes lingering on her for a second longer than necessary.
“Manya and I are marrying.”
Mirnaa flinched — visibly. The words landed like stones in her stomach. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t speak. The shame flooded back in a rush: she had begged this man to take her, had spread her legs for him, had believed every word he said — and he had walked away the second his actual lover called. She felt like a fool again, as it reminded how bharath had been telling her he loves her till last night .
She stood abruptly — legs unsteady — and fled toward the bedroom without a word. The door closed behind her with a soft click.

Vikram rose slowly. He walked Bharath to the front door, unhurried, deliberate. Bharath pulled his suitcases along, wheels whispering against the marble.
At the threshold, Vikram stopped. Turned to face him.
“End of the day,” he said quietly, voice low enough that only Bharath could hear, “I won.”
Bharath paused. A bitter, defiant smirk curled his lip.
“It’s me who won,” he shot back.
“Luck favored you — Manya came back to me.
But if you think you won, let it be.
I don’t care. I have Manya now. That’s enough for me.”
He stepped outside.
Vikram smiled, he knows he doesn't need to tell how he actually won  him, its not luck its his plan that Manya came back..
Its his way of making him puppet, its a sweet revenge a tit for tat a counter one Vikram does as once Bharath did the same to him and mirna.


The Thar waited in the driveway — engine already running, driver holding the door open.
Bharath loaded the bags himself. Climbed in. Didn’t look back.
The engine rumbled to life — deep, throaty — then pulled away, tires crunching over gravel. The sound faded down the coastal road until it was gone.
Vikram stood in the open doorway for a long moment — watching the empty drive. Then he closed the door. Locked it. Turned the deadbolt with a soft, final click.
He stood there — alone in the hall — and smirked to himself.
“Bharath…” he said quietly, almost tenderly,

“I’m going to give you the same medicine you gave others.
You’ll experience it from Manya.”
He exhaled once — slow, satisfied.
Then he walked to the bedroom door. Knocked softly.
“Mirnaa?”
No answer.
He opened it gently.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed — knees drawn up, arms wrapped around her legs, face buried. Shoulders shaking silently.
Vikram crossed the room. Sat beside her. Didn’t touch her — just waited.
Vikram reached out — slow, careful — and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Like he had heard her inner voices, Vikram said
“He was never worth it,” he said softly. “You know that now.”
Mirnaa nodded — small, broken.
“I’m sorry… for everything.”

Vikram pulled her into his arms then — gentle, unhurried. She went willingly, curling against him like she belonged there.
“You’re home now,” he whispered. “That’s all that matters.”
Now he has gone completely, it's just us..
You forget every past , let's start fresh.
For me you are the only one and for you?

She clung to him — fingers twisting in his shirt.
“Only you,” she murmured. “It always has been… only you.”
Vikram kissed the top of her head.
“I’m as well, it’s just sex, I'm not bothered about that, i got offended when you think its love..
Only I can love you.”
Outside, the sea kept rolling — steady, indifferent.

Inside, the house felt smaller. Safer.
An Hour later

And somewhere far away, Bharath drove toward Bangalore with Manya— toward a future he thought he had won.

He had no idea.Vikram was going to silently orchestrate a punishment for Bhartah.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 139 – The First Steps Away


Chennai – Vikram’s Beach House – Morning, Two Days After Bharath’s Departure

The house felt different now — quieter, smaller, safer. Bharath was gone. His room stood empty, door closed, like a wound that had finally scabbed over. Mirnaa hadn’t stepped foot inside it. She hadn’t gone back to the hospital either. The very thought of those corridors — the canteen where Priya teased her, the staff room where Bharath sat beside her, the car rides home with his hand warm on her thigh — made her stomach lurch. Every memory felt like a betrayal of herself. She hated the place now. Hated what it reminded her of: how foolish she had been, how easily she had been played, how she had almost thrown away everything for a man who abandoned her mid-act.

She spent most of the day curled on the sofa or in bed — knees drawn up, arms wrapped around herself. Vikram watched her closely. He saw the way her hands trembled when she thought he wasn’t looking. The way she flinched at sudden noises. The way she locked every door the moment he stepped out — even the bathroom door when he showered. She had become an untold caged bird — wings clipped by her own guilt.
Vikram knew he was partly responsible. He had been an enabler — let the game go on too long, let Bharath get too close, let Mirnaa fall far enough to break. He had wanted to win her back without Bharath ever revealing the full truth — the Shadow King, the original deal, the manipulations — because he feared that truth would make her feel like an even bigger fool. That it would shatter what little trust she had left in herself.

But now he saw the reverse effect: she was crumbling. Self-demolishing mood. Insecure. Scared of her own thoughts.
He couldn’t let it continue.

That afternoon, while she napped fitfully on the sofa, Vikram opened his laptop. Quietly booked two first-class tickets to Zurich — departing the next evening. A week in Switzerland. Fresh air. Snow-capped mountains. A place far from Chennai, far from memories of Bharath, far from the hospital corridors that haunted her.

Before he could tell her, his phone buzzed.
Swathi.
He answered immediately.
“Vikram,” she said, voice warm but tired. “Krish is back. Landed from Dubai an hour ago. He’s home now. He wants to see you soon. i mean he is inviting you for a dinner.”
Vikram exhaled slowly.
“I’ll visit tonight. Tell him I’m coming.”


He ended the call. Looked at Mirnaa — still sleeping, face soft in repose.
He knelt beside the sofa. Brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
“Mirnaa,” he said softly.

She stirred, eyes fluttering open.
“We’re going out,” he said. “A surprise. Pack a bag — warm clothes, comfortable shoes. We leave tomorrow evening.”
Mirnaa blinked — confused, but too tired to question.
“Where…?”
“You’ll see.”

She nodded slowly. Trusting him completely.


Evening – Bangalore – Krish & Swathi’s House

They arrived in Bangalore by late afternoon. Krish and Swathi were waiting at the airport, Krish, Swathi holding his arm protectively. They drove to Krish’s new house in Koramangala — spacious, modern, with a small garden and high walls.

Mirnaa was nervous the entire drive. She clung to Vikram’s hand, eyes darting around. She wasn’t comfortable with Swathi and Krish around — their presence reminded her too much of the world outside, the people who knew things she didn’t want to face. But the change of location helped a little. The house felt safe. Neutral.


Swathi was warm — friendly, attentive to Krish, always touching his arm, bringing him tea, asking if he needed anything. Mirnaa watched them quietly. Guilt twisted in her chest. She saw how naturally Swathi loved Krish — how attentive, how open. And she felt small. Dirty. Unworthy of the same kind of love.

Dinner was quiet. Vikram and Krish stepped away afterward for a “business talk.” They went to Krish’s study — door closed.
Mirnaa stayed in the living room with Swathi — awkward silence between them.


In the study, Vikram looked at Krish across the desk.
“I need you to take complete control of the dark network,” he said quietly. “Everything. I’m stepping back. I need… personal time.”
Krish studied him.

“You sure? That’s a lot to hand over.”
Vikram glanced toward the door — toward Mirnaa waiting just beyond it.

“I’m sure.”
Krish nodded slowly.

“I’ll handle it. But its risky to im doing alone.. people may think im the shadown king.. when we two are around, people here would get confused and think shadow king exists somewhere else.”
He continued that only dubai business circle know your identity.. 

“I’ll know,” Vikram said.let me do what i wanted to do personally ocnce it done i can reveal my identity.. Krish nodded

Krish left an hour later.
Mirnaa slipped into the room the moment the front door closed. She crawled onto Vikram’s lap without a word. Buried her face in his neck.

“You’re not leaving me, right?” she whispered.
i feel like you are taking me somewhere to dump in distance.
Vikram laughed..
“Never,” he said. Kissed her forehead.

Next Morning – Departure

They said goodbye to Krish and Swathi. Hugs
. Promises to call. Mirnaa clung to Vikram’s arm the entire time — nervous, but a little better with the change of scenery.

They boarded the flight to Zurich — first class, private pod seats. It was the second time Mirnaa had been on a plane — the first with Bharath, when he had kissed her mid-flight and openly commented on her breasts, making her blush and laugh. 

The memory flickered — but it didn’t sting as much this time. Vikram held her hand the entire takeoff — steady, warm. She leaned against his shoulder, watching the city shrink below them.

Fourteen hours of travel. New experience.

Only after landing in Zurich — crisp alpine air hitting her face — did she realize Vikram had brought her to a whole new world.

An experience that would make her forget.
Heal.
And — he hoped — give him the courage to finally come clean.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 140– The Marriage Trap


Bangalore – Bharath’s Family Home – Two Days After Their Arrival

The ancestral house in Bangalore’s old-money locality stood solemn under the late-afternoon sun. 
Bharath’s Thar pulled into the driveway with a low growl. Manya sat in the passenger seat, cradling her two-year-old daughter in her lap.
 The little girl — dark curls, wide curious eyes — clutched a small stuffed rabbit and stared at the big house with innocent wonder.

Bharath killed the engine. He looked at Manya — soft, almost reverent.
“Ready?”

Manya nodded — small, practiced smile.
Bharath stepped out first. Opened the back door, unbuckled the child, lifted her gently into his arms. 
The girl giggled, wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Up we go, princess.”

Manya followed, smoothing her dupatta, eyes scanning the house like she was stepping into a battlefield disguised as home.
The front door opened before they reached it.

Bharath’s mother,silver hair in a neat bun, simple cotton saree — stood frozen on the threshold. 
Her eyes went from Bharath, to Manya, to the child in his arms. Shock. Recognition. Then — something guarded.
“Bharath…?”
He smiled — genuine this time.

“Ma… I’m back and i have decided, this is my family.”

The old woman’s hand flew to her mouth. Tears welled — but they were mixed with hesitation.
Manya stepped forward — respectful, head slightly bowed.
“Aunty…”

Bharath’s mother didn’t move to embrace her. She looked past Manya to her husband, who had appeared behind her — retired, stern, shoulders rigid.

The father’s eyes narrowed at Manya.
“So… you came back.”

Bharath set the child down gently. She clung to his leg.
“I want to marry her,” Bharath said — voice clear, final. “Only her. This time no one can split us.”

The father’s face hardened.
“You said the same thing years ago. 
You married someone else. She married someone else. 
Now you bring her back with a child?”

Bharath’s jaw tightened.
“I was wrong. I was weak. But now I know — she’s the only one. She always was.”

Bharath mother stopped them..
Whatever let them come inside.. and have a talk with us..

Bharath father guarded down.
The mother looked torn — one hand on her husband’s arm, the other hovering as if she wanted to reach for the child.

“She left you once,” the father said coldly.
 “She chose another man. Bore his child.
 Why should we believe this isn’t another convenience? Another mistake?”

Manya’s eyes filled with tears — perfectly timed.
“Uncle…did you forget  we are  Scared. You have Pressured us, my family. I thought I had no choice. 
But I never stopped loving Bharath. Not for a single day. 
This child… she’s innocent. She needs a father. A real home.”

The little girl looked up at the old man — big eyes, shy smile.
Bharath’s mother’s heart visibly softened. She stepped forward, knelt to the child’s level.
“What’s your name, kutti?”
The girl whispered: “priya.”
The mother’s eyes misted.
“A beautiful name.”

The father exhaled — long, heavy.
he was against her from the beginning,” his inner voice said “I still don’t trust this.
But… he saw his son’s face. he saw how he looks at her. And  the child — innocent. 

Then he said: If this is truly what you want, Bharath… we will not stand in your way. 
But know this: This is your choice..”
Bharath nodded — solemn.
“I wil take care..”

The mother pulled Manya into a tentative hug.
“Welcome home, I always wished you to be my daughter in law but he and entire family wanted him to marry a rich women. 
sorry lets past be past.. 

I will speak with family and plan for your marriage..”
Manya bowed her head — perfect picture of humility.

“Thank you, Aunty… 
she didn't address Bharath father.. she had her own irritation with hiim, the man who changed her life upside down.”


Upstairs – Guest Room

Bharath set priya on the bed. She immediately started jumping on the mattress, giggling.
Manya watched from the doorway — soft smile.

Bharath turned to her.
“I’ll go get some utensils and things for her — plates, cups, toys. She’ll need them. You rest.”
Manya nodded.

As soon as Bharath left the room, her phone buzzed — Vikram.
She answered immediately — voice low.

“He’s here. With his parents. They agreed — reluctantly. His father still doesn’t trust me.”
Vikram’s voice — calm, measured. 

“Good. 

Let me keep it short... 


Now the next step. Argue with him.
 Convince him to get his father’s assets under your name — for the baby’s future. 
Make it emotional. Make him feel it’s his idea.”

Manya glanced toward the door.
“I will.”

She ended the call. Took a slow breath. Composed her face into something vulnerable.

Bharath returned twenty minutes later — arms full of bags: plastic plates with cartoon characters, a sippy cup, a small teddy bear, fresh milk packets, biscuits.
Manya sat on the bed, holding priya close.
Bharath set the bags down. 
Noticed her expression.

“What’s wrong?”
Manya looked up — eyes glistening.

“I’m scared, Bharath. For her. This house… your family… everything is new. Your father still doesn’t trust me and i dont trust him as well, he was the one who split us, he was the one made me marry another man.

 What if something happens to you? What if they change their mind later? 
I want her to have security. A future she priya rely on.”

Bharath knelt in front of her.
“She will. I’ll take care of both of you.”

Manya shook her head — tears spilling now.
“No… I mean real security. What if something happens to you? What if your family turns against us again?
 I lost so much already. I can’t lose her future too. Please… do something for her. 

Bharath: Im already here what else you want? Ask me

Manya: Put everything in her name — property, accounts, anything. As a gift. For love.”
Bharath stared at her — then at priya playing with the teddy bear.
Manya continued — voice breaking.
“I feared for her life before. I can’t live like that again. Please…”

Bharath swallowed hard. The child looked up at him — innocent eyes, trusting smile.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll do it. Everything in her name. As a gift. For love.”
Manya reached out — touched his cheek.
“Thank you.”


Next Day – The Scene

Bharath staged it perfectly.
He sat with his parents at the dining table — Manya beside him, priya on his lap.
“I want to transfer everything to priya's name, Manya will be the gaurdian and holds power..” he said. 
“Properties, investments, company shares. As a gift. For her future.”
His mother’s eyes widened.
“Bharath… that’s everything.”

His father looked at him — long, searching.
“i dont feel to do, why should i do that, its early you two are not married yet, is this a demand.?”
Bharath looked at Manya — then at the child.
“not a demand, its my promise to protect her,  She’s my family now. All of it is hers.”

The father exhaled.
“I wont admit to it.."
If you want you share all the one in your name.. i dont need to give it to any 

Bharath mom, intervened, its okay, we will take something for us and give rest to you bharath, its upto you to transfer or not, to her. but do it after marriage not now

Manya bowed her head — perfect picture of gratitude.
Inside, she smiled.
The trap was closing.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 141 – The First Days in Zurich & The First Night in Bangalore


Zurich, Switzerland – Day 1: Arrival & Mount Titlis

The plane touched down at Zurich Airport just as the late-afternoon sun dipped behind the snow-capped Alps. The air outside was sharp, crisp, carrying the scent of pine and distant snow. Vikram stepped off first, holding Mirnaa’s hand firmly as they walked through the terminal. She wore a simple wool coat he had bought her in Chennai, scarf wrapped tight, eyes wide at the sight of the mountains through the glass walls.

They took a private transfer to a cozy chalet hotel in Engelberg — wooden beams, stone fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the valley. The room smelled of cedar and fresh linen. A fire was already crackling in the hearth.
Mirnaa stood by the window, staring at the peaks.
“It’s… beautiful,” she whispered.

Vikram came up behind her, arms slipping around her waist.
“That’s why we’re here,” he said softly. “To breathe. To forget. To remember who we are — just you and me.”
She leaned back against him, but her fingers tightened on the windowsill.
“Why are you doing this for me?” she asked, voice small. “After everything… I don’t deserve it.”
Vikram turned her gently to face him.

“You do,” he said. “You’re my world. We came here to change things. Let it take its natural course. No pressure. No memories. Just us.”

She searched his face — desperate for any sign he was lying. Found none.
They spent the rest of the afternoon on the cable car ride to Mount Titlis. The world dropped away below them — green valleys turning to white snowfields, peaks rising like silent guardians. At the top, they stepped into a wonderland of snow. Vikram pulled her into a snowball fight — gentle, playful. Mirnaa laughed — the first real, unguarded laugh since the night Bharath left her on the bed. The sound surprised her. She stopped, hand over her mouth.

Vikram grinned.
“See? That’s the sound I missed.”

They sat in a small café at the summit — hot chocolate with whipped cream, steam curling between them. Mirnaa sipped slowly, eyes distant.
“I feel… out of place,” she admitted.
 “Like I shouldn’t be here. Like I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Vikram reached across the table, took her hand.
“You’re exactly who you should be. Right here. With me.”


Bangalore – Bharath & Manya – The Same Day

The registry office was small, air-conditioned, and quiet. Bharath stood in a simple white kurta, Manya in a cream saree, their daughter Priya held by Bharath’s mother (who had reluctantly agreed to witness). 

The registrar’s words were brief, mechanical.

“Do you take this man…?”
“I do,” Bharath said — voice firm, eyes on Manya.
Manya smiled — soft, perfect.
“I do.”

Rings exchanged. Mangalasutra tied. Signatures. A quick photograph. Done.
Bharath beamed — he thought he had won the ultimate prize. Manya smiled back — internally smirking.

They returned to the family home. Evening came fast. 
Bharath’s parents retired early, leaving the couple alone in the master bedroom — newly decorated with fresh flowers and a glass of milk on the nightstand.

Bharath closed the door. Turned to Manya — eyes dark with anticipation.
She stood by the bed, hands folded.

“Priya’s fussy tonight,” she said quietly. 

“She won’t sleep without me. She would cry, we ae already lovers right no formalities, lets sleep seperately..”
Bharath exhaled — frustrated, but understanding.

“Okay. For her.”
He kissed her forehead — tender, patient.

Manya smiled sweetly.
“Soon,” she promised.

Zurich – Day 2: Lake Lucerne & Uneasiness

Lake Lucerne glittered under a pale winter sun. They took a boat ride — private, just the two of them. Vikram held her hand the entire time, pointing out castles on the hills, swans gliding past. Mirnaa leaned against him, watching the water.

They visited a chocolate factory afterward — warm, sweet-smelling rooms, conveyor belts of truffles, free samples. Mirnaa tasted a dark truffle, eyes lighting up.
“This is amazing,” she said.

Vikram watched her — heart swelling with love he hadn’t felt in months.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
She smiled — but it faded quickly.
Back at the hotel, she sat on the balcony, staring at the lake.

Swathi called to Vikram but, Mirna took it.. Vikram signaled to take it as e was slicing a bread 
her voice bright through the phone.

“How’s Zurich? Krish misses you both. 


*** regular talks *** one thing she understands is swathi is very much concerned about Vikram and they are good friends. 


Tell Vikram he owes us dinner when you’re back.”

Mirnaa laughed softly — but her eyes were distant.
“Yeah… soon.”

She hung up. Vikram came out, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
Mirnaa looked at him — voice small.

“I never did this for you. Never called you just to check how are you?
did i missed a lot I was always at the hospital. Always working. Swathi… she takes care of Krish like that. She’s attentive. 
I wasn’t. I feel like I was never a good wife.”

Vikram knelt in front of her.
“You were yourself. That’s what I fell in love with. Your passion. Your dedication. You don’t have to be anyone else.”

She shook her head.
“I feel unfit for you. Like I don’t deserve this… this life.”

Vikram pulled her into his lap.
“You do. And I’m going to keep showing you until you believe it.”

She clung to him — night uneasiness growing, suppressive feelings of inadequacy rising like a tide.


Mirna rose from his lap, she felt like something stopped her may be a guilt.. 

Mirnaa stood near the window, arms wrapped around herself, looking out at the dark valley. Vikram came up behind her — close enough that she felt his body heat before he touched her.

“I think you are thinking too much.. your thoughts on something unwanted keeping yuo away from me away from who you are .. ” he said softly.
She didn’t turn.

“I want you to ignore it, im completely fine with everything.. i love you same way like we had years back nothing changed.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders — light, careful.

“That’s what I wanted you to feel.”
She turned then. Looked up at him — eyes shimmering in the firelight.

“I still feel… unfit sometimes. Like I don’t deserve this. Like I’m pretending.”
Vikram cupped her face gently.

“You’re not pretending. You’re remembering who we were before everything got twisted. Before Bharath. Before the lies. Just us.”
He leaned down — kissed her forehead. Then her eyelids. Then the corner of her mouth. Slow. Deliberate. Each kiss a quiet promise.
Mirnaa’s breath caught. 

She lifted her arms — wrapped them around his neck.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Please hate me once, your unconditional love disturbing me more”

Vikram lifted her without a word — bridal carry, effortless, tender. She rested her head against his shoulder as he walked them to the bedroom. The chill outside pressed against the windows, but inside the room was warm — the bed already turned down, soft white linens, a single lamp glowing low.

He set her down gently on the edge of the mattress. Knelt in front of her — eye level.
“I’m not going to hate you.. instead let me love you more... i accept you for what you are.. 

he hinted he gonna have a sex....  I wont rush this,” he said. “I want you to feel every second. I want you to know — this is us. No one else. Just us.”

Mirnaa nodded — tears already gathering.
He started slow.

Unbuttoned her coat. Slid it off her shoulders. Kissed the hollow of her throat where her pulse fluttered. Unzipped her sweater — peeled it away. Kissed the top of each breast through her bra. Unhooked it — let it fall. Took one nipple into his mouth — gentle suction, tongue circling slowly. Mirnaa arched — soft gasp, fingers threading into his hair.

He moved lower — kissed her stomach, the faint bruises marked by bharath still fading on her ribs. Whispered against her skin:
Mirna tried to hide it due to shame...

“You’re beautiful. Every mark. Every scar. Every part of you. No matter i love you .. i accept you for what you are..”

He tugged her leggings down — kissed the inside of each thigh. Slid her panties away. Kissed her there — soft, reverent, tongue tracing her folds until she trembled and whispered his name like a prayer.

When she was shaking, ready, he stood. Undressed himself slowly — letting her watch. Shirt. Belt. Pants. Boxers. His erection thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip.

He climbed over her — careful, controlled. Settled between her thighs.
“Look at me,” he said.

She did — eyes glassy, tears slipping down her temples.
He entered her slowly — one long, smooth glide. Filling her completely. No rush. No force. Just deep, steady pressure. Mirnaa’s breath hitched — legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He moved — slow, rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside her. Each one deliberate. Each one saying: This is mine. You are mine. We are us.

Tears kept falling — not from pain, but from overwhelming feeling. Love. Relief. Release. She clung to him — nails in his back, face buried in his neck.

“I love you,” she whispered — broken, raw. “Only you.”
Vikram kissed her tears — slow, tender.

“I love you,” he answered. “Always. Only you.”

The room was cold outside the blankets, but their bodies burned. Heat radiated between them — skin slick with sweat, breath mingling, hearts pounding in sync. He rocked into her, deeper, slower, grinding against her clit with every thrust until she shattered,crying out his name, body convulsing, inner walls fluttering around him.

He followed moments later, burying himself deep, spilling inside her with a low groan, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

They stayed like that — joined, trembling, breathing hard. He didn’t pull out right away. Just kissed her, slow, lazy kisses that tasted of salt and love. When he finally withdrew, he gathered her close,chest to chest, legs tangled.

“No more doubts,” he whispered against her hair. “No more feeling unfit. You’re mine. That’s all that matters.”
Mirnaa nodded, tears still slipping — but she smiled against his skin.
“Only you,” she murmured.

Outside, the Alps stood silent under the stars.
Inside, they slept — wrapped in each other, finally home.


Bangalore – Bharath & Manya – Day 2

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 142–  Manya and Bharath Day 2


Bangalore – Lawyer’s Office – The Next Day

The lawyer’s office was small, air-conditioned to a chill, and smelled faintly of old paper and ink. Bharath sat at the polished teak table, Manya beside him, Priya on her lap playing with a small toy car. The little girl was oblivious — humming softly, wheels clicking against Manya’s knee.
Manya leaned closer to Bharath, voice low and trembling just enough to sound vulnerable.


“Let’s get all your properties in her name,” she said.

then hesitatingly said..
 “Your father’s share too… at least half of it. For Priya’s future.”


Bharath hesitated — fingers tightening on the pen.
“That’s… everything,” he said quietly. “The houses, the company shares, the investments. are fine.. but Fathers share?
My father won’t agree easily.”

Manya’s eyes filled with tears — perfectly timed, glistening but not falling yet.

“I know it’s a lot,” she whispered. “But after everything… I need to know we’re secure. 
I can’t lose her future too. Not after I lost so much already.”
Your father would turn againts me any time, this share on priya name is only thing that secures her from his threats.

She looked down at Priya — the child smiling up at her innocently — and a single tear slipped down Manya’s cheek.
Bharath stared at the documents. Then at the child. Then at Manya.

Manya never knew the business. 
She didn’t care about running it. 
She just wanted ownership — control, that Vikram told her.. Something to hold over them. 
Something that would make them think twice before ever threatening her or the child again.


Vikram’s voice echoed in her memory from the phone call the night before:
“Just keep them in your control.
They should be afraid to confront you. 
They should think about the assets in your name every day. 
Temoney and power they used to suppress you earlier — you don’t need to throw them out. 
But the assets in your name… that should cause fear every day for them.”

And then the colder part:
“Don’t have sex with Bharath. Delay it. 
Make sure he gets tempted every time, but when it comes closer, just ignore him. 
Tell him the baby’s crying, you’re not ready… you remember your late husband… Cry. 
Emotionally avoid physical sex. He should stay away, he should think, he is suppressing sex for love.”

Vikram had paused.

“Bharath used love to lure Mirnaa into sex.
 I’m using the same love — yours — as a tool to reject sex. 
He’ll break bit by bit.”



Manya had known Vikram’s pain. 
Initially she feared the revenge would be like — let Vikram have her, make bharath cuckold, humiliate him. 
But she was glad, Vikam was not into that usual revenge trope.. and she also doesnt want to revenge him with sex? its not her way and she dont want it either.

Manya realised... Vikram’s revenge was deeper. 
Emotional. Slow. Breaking Bharath’s spirit, not just his body.
Manya wanted the same now.

She wanted to give Bharath hope in love — make him a dog wagging his tail, chasing after her. But never give him the biscuit.

She came back from her thoughts. 


Bharath was still staring at the papers.
He exhaled — long, shaky.

“Let me transfer mine first,” he said. “The ones in my name. Then… I’ll talk to my father about his share.”
Manya nodded — grateful, tearful.
“Thank you.”

The lawyer slid more forms across the table. 
Bharath signed — page after page — transferring properties, bank accounts, investments into Priya’s name, Manya as guardian.


When it came to his father’s share, Bharath made the call.
“Dad… I need you at the lawyer’s office. It’s important.”

An hour later, Bharath’s father arrived — face guarded, eyes suspicious.
Bharath explained — voice steady, emotional.


The father stared at Manya — “I don’t trust this,” he said. “I never did.”

Manya looked down — tears falling silently.
The father exhaled — heavy, resigned.

*** Long Drama *** 

Finally He signed with some legal conditions, that his shares will be reversed anytime if he wanted. Also shares will be only half. 

Bharath nodded.
The father signed — reluctantly, under pressure from his son’s pleading eyes and the mother’s quiet tears in the background.
The lawyer stamped the preliminary documents.


That Night – The Bedroom

Bharath came to the bedroom early — body tense, eyes dark with need.
He had waited. He had signed away half his life. Now he wanted his wife.
Manya stood by the window, back to him, cream saree dbangd perfectly, hair loose.

He crossed the room. Slid his arms around her waist from behind. Pressed his lips to the side of her neck, hungry, urgent.
Manya let him kiss her ,soft, slow. Then she turned in his arms.

“I’ll think about it when everything is official,” she said, voice gentle but firm.
“When the shares and assets are fully in our name. Registrations are still pending, right? 

What we did today is preliminary procedure.”
Bharath froze — hands still on her hips.

“What?”

Manya caught his face gently — thumbs brushing his cheeks.

“I don’t know what you think,” she said, eyes searching his, “but our love is true — no doubt in that. 
But I doubt your father. I can’t risk it. Not with Priya’s future on the line. Let this be a little reminder for you too.”

Bharath stared at her — frustration, confusion, hurt flickering across his face.
I understand you doubt my father, but what about me?

Manya kissed his cheek — soft, placating.
“Soon,” she whispered.
When i feel this is my home i will...

She slipped out of his arms. Walked to the nursery to check on Priya.
Bharath stood alone in the bedroom — body on fire, mind spinning. He sank onto the edge of the bed. Buried his face in his hands.

“She loves me,” he told himself. “She’s just scared. She’s protecting our daughter. Soon.”
He slept alone again — controlling his urges, staring at the ceiling, telling himself it would be worth it.