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Word count- 5153

Published on - 29.09.2024

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Mrs. Deshmukh couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, at Shreeja's confusion. She thought to herself, "Oh my god, I have no idea what's going on, but this poor girl is utterly adorable and confused."

                       (Shreeja's attire)
  

Meanwhile...

Idhayan returned to his room after freshening up, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw that Shreeja was no longer on the bed. Panic surged through him as he scanned the room.

"Did she leave?" he wondered, his eyes darting around. But when he noticed that Shreeja's belongings were still there, his concern only deepened. "Then where could she have gone?"

Worry gnawed at him. "She's unfamiliar with this house. What if she gets lost? She visited here as a child, but it's been years since then. I need to find her before she falls ill again."

Determined, Idhayan rushed out of his room, his footsteps quick and purposeful as he searched for her. Spotting a servant in the hallway, he asked urgently, "Did you see the girl who came with me yesterday?"

The servant nodded. "Yes, young master. She's downstairs, and Ma'am has also arrived."

Relief mingled with a new worry as Idhayan quickened his pace. "Mother's here too. She's probably seen Shreeja. I must hurry and explain everything; otherwise, I have no idea what weird things she'll think."

He spotted Shreeja downstairs and called out, "Shreeja!"

She turned at the sound of his voice, her expression a mix of confusion and vulnerability. "Sir, are you here in my house too?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

(Author : Nehi, tujhe neend se jagane aaye hai.) (No, he came to wake you up from your sleep.)

After a brief pause, she continued, her tone wavering, "My mother went on a trip, and when she came back, she seemed like a different person. This woman is so sweet, not at all like my... devilish mom. What should I do now?" Tears began to well up.

Idhayan moved closer, gently placing a reassuring hand on her head. "You're mistaken, Shreeja," he said softly. "This isn't your house. It's mine. I brought you here yesterday."

Shreeja's eyes widened in disbelief. "Ohhhh!!" she exclaimed, her face frozen in shock. Then, a realization hit her, and she shouted, "Whattt!!!! Your house?!"

She stammered, struggling to grasp the situation. "Sir, how... how can this be? You... my... my... house is your house?" Tears brimmed in her eyes as confusion and emotions collided.

(Author : Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the unique and weird award ceremony! Your lovely host for the evening is Author Blue.

Powered by Editor @puspita_fiore_1116

And the Special 'Confusion' Award goes to... 'Ms. Shreeja Gupta'.)

Idhayan maintained a gentle tone, trying to calm her. "Please sit down first, and we'll sort everything out."

He guided Shreeja to a nearby sofa and helped her settle. Turning to a maid, he instructed, "Bring the food I asked you to prepare, and a pair of slippers."

Within moments, the maid returned with a tray of food, and another with slippers.

Idhayan offered Shreeja a glass of water, helping her take a few sips. As she drank, he knelt down to gently slip the slippers onto her feet.

(Editor : *Chewing her handkerchief*) (Author : *Patted Editor's head*)

Shreeja remained bewildered, trying to piece together the reality around her, while Idhayan's mother stood nearby, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, silently taking in the scene, her expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Idhayan's mother cleared her throat from behind to get attention. "Has anyone seen me, or am I being deliberately ignored?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Idhayan turned to her, then walked over, guiding her to the dinner table and helping her into a chair. "It's not like that, Mom. How could I ignore you?" he reassured her.
"You can see how confused Shreeja is. I brought her to our house, taking full responsibility. We need to clear up everything for her first."

(Author : Wo to dikh hi raha hai) (It is visible)

(Idhayan : *Looking at Author* Hmm.?) (Author : *Whistling around*)

Idhayan then explained the events of the previous night to his mother.

After listening to her son, Mrs. Deshmukh sighed in relief. She placed a gentle hand on Idhayan's cheek and said, "Well, that's a relief. At first, I thought that old man must have brought a woman in my absence. Then when I found out it was you, and I worried you might be following in your father's footsteps. I was ready to knock some sense into you if that were the case. But it turns out my son just brought home his secretary instead."

Idhayan let out a deep breath. "I knew you'd think something like that, Mom. Next time, at least listen to me before jumping to conclusions."

Mrs. Deshmukh made a playful pout. "Well, I'm still very disappointed about this."

Idhayan raised an eyebrow. "And why's that? Is it because I brought a girl home without your consent?"

Mrs. Deshmukh's expression turned dramatically wistful as she pretended to wipe away a tear. "I had hoped my son had finally brought a girl home, that he'd come to me, hand in hand with her, saying, 'Mom, I love this girl and want to marry her. I want to give you grandchildren.' But instead, I find out you brought your secretary home."

(Author : *Sob..Sob* Aunty ji ko dekhke mujhe bhi rona aageya, aab unhe kaise pata hoga ki unka beta ishi ladki se...............) (I also started crying after seeing aunty, now how would she know that her son with this girl............)

(Idhayan : *Grab Author's mouth tightly, so she can't talk anything else, then with a smile* "Mr. Bakshi, please take Ms. Author with you and take good care of her, along with the maids.")

(Mrs. Deshmukh : Huhhh...kya? Kya bol rahi thi wo?) (What? What was she saying?)

(Idhayan : Kuch nehi maa , aap bolo kya bol rahe the aap) (Nothing mom, tell me what were you saying?)

She turned away, feigning discontent, but after a moment, she spun back around, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous smile. "Or... is there something going on with your little secretary, hmmm?"

Idhayan's eyes widened in shock, and he slowly shook his head. "You're imagining things again, Mom. I told you, there's nothing like that." He tried to steer the conversation back to normal. "Let's just have breakfast."

Meanwhile, Shreeja's grogginess began to wear off. She blinked, suddenly aware of her surroundings, and her mind raced with embarrassment. 'What did I do while half-asleep in sir's house?' she thought, mentally kicking and cursing herself.

(Author : Nehi behen, ye sab karne ka koi fhayeda nehi hai, tune already jo karna tha kar diya hai)

(No sister, there is no use in doing all this, you have already done what you had to do.)

Idhayan approached her gently. "Shreeja, let's have breakfast first. You haven't eaten since yesterday."

Shreeja flinched at first but then nodded, his calm tone easing her nerves.

They joined Mrs. Deshmukh at the dining table. As Shreeja glanced at her, Idhayan started to introduce, "This is the lady of the house, my-"

Before he could finish, Shreeja shot up from her seat, her face paling. "What?! Madam?!"

Realizing who she was addressing, Shreeja slowly sank back into her chair, her head bowed in shame. Her face had turned completely red with embarrassment.

She pressed one leg over the other, clasping her hands tightly between them. In a barely audible, guilt-ridden voice, she stammered, "I'm so sorry, madam. This won't happen again, madam. I'm ready to accept any punishment, madam."

Idhayan sighed, seeing her so distressed, but when he glanced at his mother, he caught a sly smile creeping across her face, her hands clasped under her chin like she was plotting something mischievous.

(Author : Punishment ke naam se Aunty itna khush kyu ho geyi? Don't tell me Aunty ko punishment dena acha lagta hai. Woh bhi waise wale.....................cough cough..kya soch rahe ho tum sab naughty readers.)

(Aunty, why are you so happy with the name of punishment? Don't tell me Aunty likes punishing. Like that........................cough cough..what are you thinking all, you naughty readers.)

Sensing his mother's intentions, Idhayan quickly intervened. "Shreeja, she's my mom too. You don't need to be so formal."

Shreeja jumped up again, startled, and introduced herself nervously, "Hello, madam. I'm Shreeja Gupta, 24, sir's secretary."

Mrs. Deshmukh's expression softened into a warm smile. "No need to be so formal, Shreeja. Please, sit down; there's nothing to fear from me. And call me Aunty, okay?"

Shreeja hesitated, glancing at Idhayan for reassurance. He nodded in agreement, encouraging her.

The food was then served, and Shreeja looked to Idhayan once more, seeking his silent approval to begin eating. He met her gaze, offering a gentle nod and a faint sigh, putting her at ease.

Shreeja, ravenous from the long night, devoured her entire meal quickly, barely pausing for breath.

Idhayan leaned closer, whispering, "Eat slowly, Shreeja. You'll choke if you're not careful. No one's taking the food away from you."

Idhayan's mother raised an eyebrow, noticing the subtle concern in her son's voice. There was something in the way he watched his secretary that caught her attention, but she chose to let it slide-for now.

"Shreeja, are you full, or would you like some more?" Mrs. Deshmukh asked with a warm smile.

Shreeja shook her head. "No, Aunty, I've had enough. Thank you."

Mrs. Deshmukh pressed again, "Are you sure, dear? There's plenty left."

(Author : Aunty maat boliye aur ye ladki nehi hai monster hai sab kha legi aur Dakar bhi nehi legi)

(Aunty, don't say anything and she is not a girl, she is a monster, she will eat everything and won't even burp)

(Shreeja : *Slap author's back as she chocked air*)

"Yes, Aunty, I'm sure," Shreeja reassured her, nodding earnestly.

Mrs. Deshmukh shifted in her seat, her tone turning playful. "Okay, Shreeja, tell me something."

"Yes, Aunty?" Shreeja responded, glancing curiously at her.

Mrs. Deshmukh's eyes sparkled with mischief. "What do you think, dear: is my son straight or gay?"

(Author : Ayeeiinn?)

Shreeja's eyes widened in shock, while Idhayan, caught off guard mid-bite, choked on his food. He quickly wiped his mouth, glaring at his mother. "Mom, what on earth are you saying and to whom?"

Mrs. Deshmukh feigned a dramatic sigh, her voice quivering with mock sorrow. "What else can I do? My son is getting older, yet he still hasn't dated a single girl. A mother like me is bound to worry!"

Shreeja, caught off guard, felt compelled to respond. Mrs. Deshmukh continued, seeking Shreeja's opinion. "You understand my concerns, right, Shreeja? A mother has to be vigilant about her son."

Shreeja nodded thoughtfully. "That's true. A mother always has her son's best interests at heart."

Mrs. Deshmukh pressed further, now clearly intrigued. "So tell me, you work with him every day. Have you seen him with any girlfriend?"

Shreeja pondered for a moment, placing a finger on her chin. "Actually, I've never seen Sir get close to any girl."

She stood up suddenly, acting out a scene to emphasize her point. "Whenever any girl tries to get too close, Sir just steps back like this, politely maintaining his distance."

She demonstrated an exaggerated, respectful retreat, adding, "And that's when I step in, telling those girls, 'You're making my sir uncomfortable, please keep your distance.''

(Author : Haan actually tujhe secretary nehi actress ka job milna chahiye tha)

(Yes, actually you should have got the job of an actress and not a secretary.)

As she finished her impromptu performance and sat back down, Mrs. Deshmukh couldn't help but smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Idhayan watched Shreeja with a mixture of disbelief and stifled laughter.

"Are you saying he's never asked a girl out?" Mrs. Deshmukh probed further, leaning closer.

Shreeja shook her head. "No, he's very respectful and kind to all the women around him. He's always willing to help."

Mrs. Deshmukh narrowed her eyes, a teasing tone slipping into her voice. "So, if he's that respectful... could he be... gay?"

Shreeja hesitated, her expression thoughtful. "No, no, he's not gay... but..." She trailed off, glancing sideways. "Well, sometimes, I've seen him with Laksh Brother-"

Before she could finish, Idhayan clapped a hand over her mouth, a weary sigh escaping him. "Shreeja, please, think before you speak."

(Author : Bol de bol de behen sab kuch bol de) (Tell them, tell them sister, tell them everything)

Mrs. Deshmukh chuckled, thoroughly entertained by Shreeja's antics. Memories of a younger Shreeja flooded her mind-who had come there and done many crazy things. The only difference was age; back then, she was a child and now she became a woman. Yet, she's just as energetic and adorable as ever.

Shreeja's gentle tap on Idhayan's hand prompted an apology as he released his grip on her mouth. It was a fleeting moment, but one that left an impression- the first time Shreeja's lips had touched Idhayan's palm.

Idhayan instinctively tucked his hand into his pocket, forming a fist, as if capturing the warmth of that accidental contact.

(Author : Ohhh hoo, irada kya hai aapke janab, kahi haath aur nehi dhone ka matlab to nehi hai na)

(What is your intention sir, you don't mean to never wash your hands or something, right?)

Mrs. Deshmukh, ever observant, leaned forward with curiosity. "So, how exactly does my son behave around this Laksh?"

Idhayan rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Shreeja, still oblivious to the tension, continued in her earnest tone. "Sir always keeps his distance from Laksh Brother. But Laksh Brother is always trying to get closer, hugging him, giving him kisses-"

Idhayan's hand flew to his forehead, exasperated.

(Author : Bechare ki koi Izzat hi nehi rahi) (The poor guy has no respect left.)

(Laksh : *Wink*)

Meanwhile, his mother was nearly doubled over with laughter, clearly enjoying every second of the conversation.

Shreeja's innocent query caught Mrs. Deshmukh off guard. "But why do you think sir is gay?"

Mrs. Deshmukh's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she replied, "If I don't intervene, he'll become an old man! He's nearing middle age, not married yet, and marriage seems like a distant possibility. He hasn't even wooed any girl. Tell me, what should I think about him?"

Shreeja listened, bewildered, unable to think of a response. Instead she broke into an awkward laughter.

Seeking an escape from the awkwardness, Shreeja's eyes wandered until they locked onto a surprise above Idhayan's left wrist.

Curiosity piqued, she leaned in for a closer look. "Sir, you have a tattoo? When did you get it?"

Her gaze lingered on the intricate design. "I've never seen it," Shreeja said, pouting a little.

"Yes, I got it many years ago," Idhayan replied.

"Hmm, you never lift your sleeves; that's why I probably haven't seen it," Shreeja said, continuing, "But what kind of tattoo is that? I want to see it clearly."

She tilted her head to catch a glimpse. Idhayan hesitated but extended his hand, revealing the tattoo. Shreeja was awestruck; it was a small cat with tiny paw prints leading forward and back.

(Author : Awww cute si hai ye tattoo) (Wow this tattoo is so cute)

"Looking at it, it seems like a child drew it," Shreeja remarked with a playful smile.

Idhayan became nervous, slowly withdrawing his hand. He was about to explain when Shreeja cut him off. "But no child would do that; only a tattoo artist could. I mean, what's been done correctly looks like a child's work," Shreeja praised the artist.

Idhayan huffed inwardly, thinking Shreeja didn't remember anything about this tattoo.

Mrs. Deshmukh chuckled, "It's just like little children's drawings, right?" She continued, "I had asked him to get a better tattoo, but he didn't listen."

She huffed and told Shreeja, "I mean, you should see his physique. He wakes up early, spends two to three hours at the gym, builds his body, asks me for fruit shakes, and follows a strict diet. But why?"

Shreeja turned to Idhayan and asked, "Why?" Curiosity written on her face.

Now Idhayan was confused and opened his mouth to reply. But before he could, his mother interjected: "To kill the girls!"

Shreeja and Idhayan exclaimed in unison, "Huhhhh!!!"

(Author : Heeeiiiinnnn *Burst into laugh* Daaammnn)

Mrs. Deshmukh continued, unfazed, "Yes, isn't he handsome?" she asked Shreeja with a wink.

Shreeja glanced at Idhayan, then back at his mother, and nodded enthusiastically.

"And Isn't his body perfect?" Mrs. Deshmukh pressed further.

Shreeja glanced at Idhayan once more and nodded innocently at his mother.

Idhayan covered his face with his palm, his neck and ears flushing crimson from the embarrassment of Shreeja's unfiltered approval.

(Editor : Haayeee, blushing men always hit difference)

"Whenever I bring up dating, he changes the subject or tunes me out," Mrs. Deshmukh said with a sigh.

"I didn't ignore you, Mom," Idhayan replied calmly.

"Shut up and don't interrupt when two ladies are discussing something," she snapped back, effectively silencing him.

Idhayan smiled, shaking his head, and let out a quiet sigh as he leaned back.

"I told him that if he wants to get a tattoo, he should do it at a good spot on the body, like the chest, shoulder, hand, or shoulder blade. It looks so cool, just like his father," Mrs. Deshmukh described.

Shreeja listened, eyes wide with amazement, thinking, 'Does sir's father look cool? I've never seen him, but if aunty says so, maybe he does.'

Just then, Idhayan stood up and said, "I told you about that, Mom. Okay, I'll be right back. You two keep talking."

As he walked away, Shreeja wondered if she had misread his expression. Had he looked angry? And if so, why?

"You leave him, Dear. Tell me, would you like to eat something else?" Mrs. Deshmukh asked Shreeja, her voice full of warmth.

"No, no, I'm full," Shreeja replied with a polite smile.

"Already full? But you're so thin-eat more, sweety," Mrs. Deshmukh urged, concern lacing her words. "Ohh see, I'm talking nonsense continuously; your health still hasn't fully recovered."

(Author : Haan haan ,khilayo aur khilayo moti bana do) (Yes yes, feed and feed and make her fat)

"It's okay, aunty," Shreeja smiled, trying to ease her worry.

Mrs. Deshmukh's expression softened as she made a suggestion. "Do one thing, stay here until your fever is completely gone."

"No, no, ma'am... I mean, aunty. I've already troubled you and Sir so much. I need to go home now. I'm fine, I just need some good sleep, that's all. I'll be fit and fine," Shreeja assured her, even flexing her muscles playfully to prove her point.

"Why rush back? Currently you're living alone, if your fever returns, who will look after you?" Mrs. Deshmukh pressed gently, her worry evident. "Well, at least you can grant me one small request, right?"

"What is it, aunty? If it's within my means, I'll do it," Shreeja replied.

"Then rest here for now; you can leave later, okay?" Mrs. Deshmukh said with a warm smile.

Shreeja couldn't resist that smile. "Okay," she conceded softly.

Mrs. Deshmukh called the maid over. "Take her to the room." Turning back to Shreeja, she added kindly, "Freshen up, dear, and get some rest. You'll sleep well, alright?" She gently patted Shreeja's cheeks.

Shreeja, once again taken by Mrs. Deshmukh's warmth, tried to refuse but ultimately gave in with a small, "Okay."

"I'll send a dress for you, alright? Think of this as your home, not your boss's office. He's a boss at the company, not here. He's my son, which makes you like a daughter to me," Mrs. Deshmukh reassured her.

The maid led Shreeja back to the room, where she slipped into a bathrobe to freshen up. Entering the washroom, she couldn't help but marvel, "Woww, even a washroom can be this beautiful!"

After she finished, she found Mrs. Deshmukh waiting on the bed, holding a dress. "Change into this, then take a nap," she instructed with a smile.

Shreeja changed into the dress after Mrs. Deshmukh left and lay down on the bed. As she settled in, her thoughts drifted to how kind Mrs. Deshmukh had been, how warmly she had spoken to her, and how gently she had patted her head-just like Sir did. Maybe he learned it from her, Shreeja thought with a soft smile.

She glanced around the room, thinking, 'This room is stunning, like a royal suite-elegant and luxurious. The white and gold decor makes it feel so serene.' A sense of calm washed over her.

'I never imagined a guest room could be so grand,' she thought. "But I guess that's to be expected-Sir is a wealthy and influential man."

(Author : *clap clap clap* Wahh re wahh uske room ko guest room bana diya)

(Wow wow she made his personal room to guest room)

Her mind slowly wandered, and without realizing it, she fell asleep. When she awoke, her gaze fell on the other side of the room, where Idhayan sat on the sofa with his laptop.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" Shreeja asked, still groggy from sleep.

Idhayan looked up, a hint of surprise in his expression. "Oh, I'm sorry. I meant to grab my work stuff and leave, but I got caught up in a call and lost track of time."

Shreeja's confusion grew. "Wait... Your work things are in the guest room?"

Idhayan raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Guest room?"

Shreeja nodded, suddenly unsure. "Yes, this is the guest room, right?"

Idhayan let out a chuckle. "Who told you this is a guest room? This is my room."

Shreeja's mind took a moment to process his words. Her drowsiness disappeared as she sat up quickly, eyes wide. "I-I'm so sorry, Sir!"

She hurriedly began straightening the bed, her hands fumbling with the sheets. "I'll fix this right away. No, I should change the sheet-where are the spare ones? Don't worry, I'll wash this one too."

Watching her frantic movements, Idhayan's expression shifted, his eyes reflecting a hint of disappointment-or was it something deeper?

He took a step closer, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Shreeja, why are you acting like this? Do you really think you're unworthy, that sleeping in my bed would somehow tarnish it?"

His voice softened, revealing genuine concern. "Don't think like that. Don't do this to yourself. Relax, okay?"

Shreeja stammered, "No, it's just... I feel like I've caused so much trouble. I shouldn't have-"

He cut her off, his tone gentle yet firm as he patted her head. "Shreeja, look at me."

When she finally met his gaze, he continued, "It's okay. Did I ever say you were troubling me? Or did you heard it from someone else? None of that, right? I brought you here because I care about you. I brought you here because I deeply care about you. Although I generally care for everyone around me, this is the first time I've brought someone into my home. Why that? Because I was worried about you. I couldn't just leave you somewhere in that situation, especially since your parents weren't home."

He paused for a brief moment, before he continued again, "Now that you're here, you're my responsibility until everything is sorted. So, don't trouble yourself with unnecessary thoughts. Relax and focus on your health. Alright?"

"Okay?" he asked, seeking reassurance.

Shreeja swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and relief.

"So, you must be hungry; it's almost noon. Should I have someone bring food here?" Idhayan asked, concern lacing his tone.

"No, I'll head home now; it's already too late," Shreeja replied, trying to sound firm.

Idhayan frowned slightly, then offered gently, "I understand, but I'll drive you home myself; it's my responsibility." A small smile tugged at his lips as he added, "Besides, my mother won't let you leave without eating something."

Shreeja sighed softly, realizing she wouldn't win this argument. "Let's eat first, okay?" he prompted.

"Okay," she relented, her voice barely a whisper.

They moved to the dining table, where Mrs. Deshmukh had been waiting. She hadn't spoken to Shreeja much earlier, but now she addressed her warmly, offering food with a motherly touch.

Idhayan watched the interaction, feeling a warmth spread through him, thinking, 'I wish we had more moments like this.'

After the meal, when it was time for Shreeja to leave, Mrs. Deshmukh spoke with a tinge of sadness, "It feels like you just arrived, and now you're already leaving. You used to visit so often when you were younger, but it's been a long time since we've seen you."

Shreeja hesitated, struggling for words. "Umm... hmm... I mean..."

Mrs. Deshmukh smiled, understanding the unspoken. "No worries, dear. Come visit me again soon. I really enjoyed our chat, okay, Shree?"

With a playful glint in her eyes, she added, "Or should I say this is your punishment that wasn't completed back then?"

Shreeja's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the teasing. Idhayan cleared his throat, stepping in quickly, "Mom, don't scare her."

Mrs. Deshmukh chuckled and waved a hand. "Oh, did I scare you? Sorry, dear, I didn't mean to."

Shreeja shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. "No need to apologize, Aunty. I'm fine, really. And I'm sorry for being a burden on you all."

Mrs. Deshmukh turned to the maids and butler, asking, "Did anyone have any trouble?" They shook their heads and replied calmly, "No, ma'am."

With a gentle smile, Mrs. Deshmukh patted Shreeja's shoulder. "Everything's okay, so don't worry. Take care of yourself, dear."

Idhayan then dropped Shreeja off at her house.

⚠️WARNING⚠️

⚠️⚠️This part contains mature themes, explicit language, and graphic content that may not be suitable for all readers.⚠️⚠️

On the other side...

At the estate of The First Unknown Person-

A red car pulled up in front of the grand, iron-wrought gate, coming to a slow stop. Akansha and Akash stepped out, casting wary glances around the shadowed grounds before making their way inside.

A servant met them in the foyer, bowing slightly. "Master is expecting you two in his room."

With a curt nod, they followed the familiar path to the room. Akansha rapped her knuckles against the heavy oak door, and after a muffled command from within, they stepped inside.

The scene that greeted them was as distasteful as it was uncomfortably familiar.

The First Unknown Person lounged on a solo sofa, a predatory smirk on his face, his mistress sprawled across his lap.

She was barely dressed, her lingerie discarded in careless pieces -one strap draped over the armrest, another tangled around his wrist.

Her dress was hitched up, revealing pale thighs that shivered under his touch.

He kept his focus on her, gently sucking her one nipple. His one hand roughly kneading her other breast, the other slipping between her legs. The mistress gasped and moaned, her voice echoing off the luxurious walls.

(Editor : Ye sab chal kya raha hai yaha par) (What's going on here?)

Akash averted his eyes quickly, a scowl deepening across his face as he clicked his tongue in disgust.

Akansha, on the other hand, stared unflinchingly, her expression blank. But the silence didn't last.

"What's so urgent that you called us here?" Akansha's voice cut through the room, cold and sharp. "I was in the middle of my own business."

The man barely glanced up, his smirk widening as he slapped hard the mistress's breast, eliciting another loud moan. "First, finish what I asked of you. It's more important than whatever you're busy with."

The mistress arched her back, her cries growing louder. "Aahhh...oohhh.... ummmm.... first..first... I want more... Fuck me more...not just with fingers...dick... I want your dick..."

(Editor : Oh my holy moly cow *I closed my eyes with my palm*)

The man's smile turned cruel as he slowed his movements, taunting her. "Really? Then beg for it you slut. Beg like a dirty whore-who enjoys being fucked in front of someone else. Show me how much you want it."

She gasped, her words spilling out desperately. "Ohh yes... please... I want..you... I want your hard dick in my sluty pussy. Please...master... Bless your whore's dirty pussy with your divine cock-"

Akansha cut in, her tone flat and disinterested. "What is the task?"

The man finally shifted his attention to them, though his hand never paused. "Finish him off. Today."

Akash's jaw clenched, a note of irritation in his voice. "He's out of town right now. It'll be difficult."

The man's eyes gleamed with malevolence. "I don't care if he's in another city or on another planet. I just want to see his fucking lifeless body And I want it done quickly."

Upon hearing that, Akansha's fingers, hidden behind her back, curled into a tight fist, her nails digging into her palm. Akash's hand, buried deep in his pocket, mirrored the tension. But they kept their faces neutral.

The man resumed his focus on the mistress, ripping away the last of her clothes as she unzipped his pants.

He lifted her easily, positioning her above him. She moaned loudly as he entered her, their bodies colliding in a rhythm that filled the room with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Akansha turned, grasping Akash's arm, and spoke through gritted teeth. "We're leaving now."

They made their way downstairs, the echo of the man's cruel laughter trailing behind them.

As they descended the staircase, Akash's face twisted in disgust. "That's why I hate coming here. How can he act like that in front of us? It's sickening."

Akansha gave a bitter, humorless chuckle, patting his shoulder. "What can we do? It's the price of this life. We have a job to do."

Akash let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of unspoken thoughts.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found a woman sitting on the ornate sofa, her head resting against the armrest.

She lifted her face, revealing red, swollen eyes, stained with tears. Her expression was vacant, the look of someone whose hope had long been extinguished.

She was none other than the man's wife- trapped, like them, in a world where power dictated every breath.

(Editor : What???? Wife ??)

Akansha and Akash exchanged a quick, somber glance before stepping past her, leaving behind the twisted darkness that clung to every corner of that house.

   _______________(〃ﾟ3ﾟ〃)_______________

Stay tuned for the next chapter, my lovelies!!

Until next time, stay healthy and keep reading!!!

Byee byeeee!!