The Deceit

CHAPTER 8

SIMRAN

I sit on the edge of the couch, my eyes fixed on Veer as he plays in his crib, blissfully oblivious to the storm that just tore through our lives. His tiny fingers grasp the colourful toys, and his innocent laughter fills the room, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside me. I can barely breathe as I think about what just happened, my mind replaying the moment Vishnu’s world came crashing down when he found out the truth.

How could I have been so blind, so selfish to think I could keep this from him forever? The look in his eyes when he realised that Veer was his son—it was like watching something delicate and beautiful shatter into a million tiny pieces. His anger was a force of nature, terrifying in its intensity, and it hit me with every word, every accusation he hurled at me. My hands still tremble as I think about it.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even find the words to defend myself, to explain why I did what I did. Not that he would have listened. Not that it would have made any difference. The truth is, I have betrayed him in the worst possible way. I close my eyes, trying to block out the guilt, but it only makes it more vivid and real.

I glance at Veer again, watching as he babbles to himself, lost in his own world. How could I put him through this? How could I allow history to repeat itself, knowing what Vishnu had gone through in his own childhood? He’d told me once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, about his pain—about growing up without a father—about being the child his father never acknowledged. And yet, I did the same thing to both Veer and Vishnu.

As I watch Veer, his tiny hands clutching a colourful rattle, my mind drifts back to that morning, eighteen months ago. The morning after Vishnu and I had finally given in to our desires, our bodies coming together in a passionate, unforgettable night.

****************

*Eighteen months earlier*

I woke up as the sunlight streamed through the curtains, feeling both elated and satiated. Vishnu’s arm was draped over my waist, his warm breath tickling the back of my neck. For a moment, everything felt perfect.

I looked at him as he slept, his face peaceful and relaxed. But even in that blissful moment, I knew whatever we had in that moment couldn’t last for long. Vishnu’s life was in India, tied around his father and his family, whereas I had completely different plans for my life—plans that needed me to shift to New York and expand my business. It was something I’d been carefully working toward for years, and I couldn’t give that up for anything.

Keeping last night a secret and walking away wasn’t an option either, as I felt something shift deep inside me. It wasn’t just desire last night; it was something far more dangerous, something that terrified me, something I yearned for.

I carefully extracted myself from Vishnu’s arms and got dressed quickly, silently, stealing glances at his sleeping form, trying not to disturb him. He looked so peaceful, so handsome. A part of me wanted to crawl back into bed, to wake him with kisses and confess my growing feelings for him. But I knew he wasn’t ready for it. Vishnu was grieving over matters that concerned his family, and until he resolved them, he would never be there for me fully.

I moved into the kitchen, trying to push my thoughts aside and focus on the mundane task of making coffee. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my chest. What if Vishnu wanted more? He didn’t look like the casual fling type. Nor was I. But how would this work with him in India and me in New York? I still was lost in my musings when I felt his presence behind me, even before I heard his footsteps.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

I turned around, finding him leaning against the kitchen doorway, shirtless and watching me with those intense, hooded eyes that always seemed to see right through me. There was something in his gaze that made my knees weak, a combination of desire and something deeper that I couldn’t quite place.

For a moment, I was speechless, preferring to admire him rather than speak. My eyes traced the lines of his muscular chest, the way his tousled hair fell into his eyes, and the lingering evidence of the night we had shared. When I couldn’t find the words, he closed the distance between us in a few strides, his thumb brushing my cheek ever so lightly that I instinctively shut my eyes, savouring the moment.

“Was I too rough?” he asked softly.

He was! The marks of his fingers on my inner thighs said it all, the memory of how he held them apart as he ravished my lower body with his mouth and tongue still vivid in my mind.

I opened my eyes and met his concerned gaze.

“I’m not a fragile doll, Vishnu,” I replied. “Whatever we did last night, I loved every second of it.”

His expression softened just a little, making me confident. Maybe I could lighten the mood, tease him just a bit.

“But I never pegged you to be such an easy lay. Had I known confessing my deep, dark feelings for you would make you do all that to me, I would have confessed much, much sooner.” I paused, then added with a playful smirk, “I guess even the great protector of the Walia family has his weaknesses. Tell me, Vishnu, how often do you let your guard down like this? Or am I the only one special enough to make the ever-stoic bodyguard lose control?”

Instead of taking my jibe lightly, Vishnu tensed. He dropped his hands from my cheeks to my upper arms, pulling me towards him in one rough motion.

“My duty to the Walia family doesn’t allow me to get so close to anyone, Simran,” he said, his voice stern. “And I like it that way—detached from worldly pleasures because it’s the only way I can give all my focus to protecting them.”

This was the Vishnu I knew—controlled, focused, and always putting his responsibilities above his own desires. His words were a reminder of the wall I knew he’d built around himself.

I swallowed hard, gathering my courage to ask that one question that burned within me, but I made sure to keep my expression casual, not wanting him to think I would be hurt by his response.

“Do you regret it? Last night?” I finally asked.

“I never do anything I regret,” he replied almost immediately. “Especially last night. But I’m not wired for any other relationships other than the ones that connect me to the Walias, Simran. And my life currently is a mess, as you already know—”

“I know,” I interrupted, squeezing his arms. “I don’t expect anything from you either, Vishnu. I know you have a lot on your plate, and you won’t be able to pay attention to anything until you sort everything out. Honestly, even I don’t have the headspace to get into any kind of relationship right now. All my focus is on expanding my business. In New York.”

The moment the words left my lips, Vishnu stiffened, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“New York?” he asked, the shock evident in his voice.

“Hmm,” I hummed, forcing a grin, even though I felt a knot forming in my stomach. “It’s been my dream ever since I got into fashion designing. New York is the place for me, Vishnu, and I’m planning to fly there soon to explore my business opportunities.”

He looked stunned, the news clearly taking him by surprise. As I watched the emotions play across his face, I couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for the fragile, unspoken connection that had blossomed between us last night. Was it destined to crumble before it even had a chance to grow?

Before Vishnu could say anything, his phone rang, cutting through the tension that hung between us. His expression shifted immediately, the warmth we had shared just moments ago replaced by a familiar coldness I’d come to know. He glanced at the screen, and I saw his father’s name flashing there. A shadow passed over his face, and I knew he was being dragged back into that deep, dark hole of his identity. One that had just recently come out before his half-sister, Meher, who had wanted their father to openly claim him as his son. There was already too much tension between him and the rest of the Walia family members now, and it somehow radiated from his body as he stared at the phone, the call ringing on, unanswered.

He didn’t dare pick it up, and I could see the conflict raging within him. The phone stopped ringing, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Vishnu looked at me again, his eyes clouded with something I couldn’t quite place.

“I have to go,” he said, his voice clipped and distant. “But we are not finished yet.”

With those words, Vishnu turned around and disappeared back to the bedroom. I stood there, rooted to the spot, trying to process what he meant by ‘we are not finished yet.’ Was it a promise or a warning? I hoped, foolishly perhaps, that it meant he wanted something more with me than what just happened between us. Maybe there was a future for us, or maybe I was just clinging on to a dream. Either way, I would give him time, I thought. Whatever he needed, I would wait.

But days turned into weeks, and Vishnu remained conspicuously absent, consumed by the security threats surrounding the Walia family. I stayed in touch with Meher, and she mentioned in passing that Vishnu had managed to sort things out with her. However, their father was still adamant about not acknowledging Vishnu publicly as his son. Despite her updates, I heard nothing directly from him. My days became busy with preparing for my upcoming trip to New York, the dream I had chased for so long. It was hard to believe that over a month had passed since that night with Vishnu.

Then came the news that shook me to my core. Vishnu’s father had finally accepted him as his son, openly declaring it before the media. He’d risked his own career, his ongoing election campaign for the position of the Chief Minister of the state to do so. The headline splashed across every news outlet, and I couldn’t help but feel happy for Vishnu. After everything, he had finally been given the one thing he had always longed for—the rightful place as the eldest son of the Walia family. I wanted to reach out and share in his joy, to see him and tell him how proud I was of him, how happy I was that he had finally gotten what he deserved.

But that same night, something within me felt off. I wasn’t feeling well. Nausea gripped me, and everything I ate came right back up. I tried to brush it off as a minor stomach infection, but when I fainted at work the next day, doubt started to creep in. This wasn’t normal. I couldn’t remember ever feeling like this—this constant dizziness, the light-headedness that just wouldn’t go away. Then it hit me. My periods were late by almost two weeks. But that wasn’t uncommon for me as my cycle had been irregular for years.

Still, the worry gnawed at me as I remembered that night. We hadn’t used any protection. And I had been so distracted, so overwhelmed with work the next morning, that I had completely forgotten to take the morning-after pill. Could I be?

No, it wasn’t possible. I was sure it wasn’t. But the doubts refused to leave me alone. I needed to know, needed to put my mind at ease. That night, I did a pregnancy test. I watched the results slowly appear, my heart pounding in my chest, each second stretching out endlessly.

Finally, the wait was over. Two clear lines appeared on that little stick, and my breath caught in my throat. The world around me froze as I stared at them. The two lines mocked me, taunting me with a reality I wasn’t expecting nor was I prepared to face. I was pregnant.

I was carrying Vishnu’s child. And he had no idea.

*PRESENT*

Veer’s toy slips from his tiny hand, breaking my reverie. He looks up at me with those wide, innocent eyes that are so much like his father’s. I reach into the crib to hand it back to him, and he giggles, grabbing it with a sweet smile that melts my heart. But it also twists the knife of guilt deeper in my chest. How can I ever make this right?

I know I’ll have to face Vishnu again, and just the thought of it terrifies me. He was so angry, so hurt when he found out about Veer, and I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to look at me the same way again.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in my hands. Now that Vishnu knows Veer is his son, I can’t help but wonder what his next move will be. The instinct to protect and claim his child will be strong, and I can only imagine how determined he will be to make up for the time he’s lost with his son.

I’m both anxious and apprehensive because I know Vishnu’s actions from this point onward will have the power to irrevocably change the course of my life and Veer’s.

I know Vishnu. He’s is a man of action, not words. And now that the truth is out, I have no doubt he will fight tooth and nail to assert his place in Veer’s life—whether through a legal battle, an emotional appeal, or simply by the sheer force of his presence. I know I can no longer keep them apart.

The thought terrifies me if I’m being honest. Veer is the most precious thing in my life, and the idea of sharing him, of potentially losing the central role I’ve played in his life, is enough to make my heart race with panic. Although I also know, deep down, that Veer deserves to have his father in his life.

Whatever Vishnu decides, whatever path he chooses to take, I know my world is about to be turned upside down. It’s going to be a battle of ownership—a battle I just cannot afford to lose.

***************

Next Morning

The morning light filters softly through the curtains as I step out of my bedroom, my head throbbing with a dull ache. I hadn’t slept a wink the entire night.

Veer is still asleep in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in the peaceful rhythm of a child’s dreams. I wish I could sleep as easily as him. But my heart is heavy with worry, too restless to find any peace.

I glance at the clock—it’s just after 7:00 a.m. I need coffee, something to shake off the fog in my mind. I walk into the living room, and the moment I sit on the couch, Claire appears with a steaming cup in her hands.

“Here, you look like you could use this,” she says with a kind smile, handing me the cup.

I take it gratefully, feeling the warmth seep into my fingers. “Thank you, Claire. But you really shouldn’t spoil me like this. I can make my own coffee. You’re already doing so much for Veer and me.”

She sits beside me. “I love doing it, Simran. You and Veer are like my family now.”

Her words warm my heart in a way that the coffee can’t. I reach over and squeeze her hand, a silent gesture of gratitude. Claire has become more than just a friend; she’s my rock and my confidante. She’s my family in more ways than I can count.

I take a sip of the coffee, letting the rich flavour settle my nerves, but Claire’s perceptive eyes see right through me.

“What’s wrong, Simran?” she asks softly. “You seem stressed. Even last night, you hardly ate anything. Then, you retired to your room earlier than usual. I can tell something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Claire. Just… a lot on my mind.” I wave off her concern, trying to sound casual.

But she isn’t convinced. She raises an eyebrow, her voice laced with concern. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, but at least don’t lie to me. I’m not trying to pry into your personal life, but I know this has something to do with your friend from India… Vishnu.”

His name hangs in the air between us, and suddenly, I can’t hold it in anymore. Her words are like a key unlocking a lock, and before I can stop myself, the truth comes tumbling out.

“Vishnu… he’s Veer’s father,” I blurt out.

The moment the words leave my mouth, I brace myself for Claire’s reaction. But instead of shock, she smiles at me—a soft, knowing smile.

I stare at her, stunned by her reaction. “You already knew?”

“I had a feeling,” she admits. “The moment I saw him yesterday, I could see the resemblance between Vishnu and Veer. I had a hunch he might be Veer’s father. Your son has a lot of his father in him. I was just waiting for you to confirm it. But now what? Have you told Vishnu about this?”

I nod, feeling the ache in my chest intensify.

“I didn’t have to tell him. He figured it out yesterday when he was here. It was... it was awful, Claire. The look on his face... I haven’t seen him like this ever. I didn’t want him to find out like this.” I shudder, recalling the devastated expression on Vishnu’s face.

Claire nods thoughtfully. “I can only imagine how hard it must’ve been for him to find out that way. Simran, you should have told him sooner. He’s Veer’s father. He had a right to know.”

Guilt stabs through me, sharp and unforgiving. I know Claire is right, but I’ve been so scared—scared of how Vishnu would react, scared of how it would change everything for me here.

“Some men would walk away without a care if they found out they had a child they didn’t know about. Men who don’t want the responsibility. But Vishnu? He doesn’t strike me as that kind of a man. He’s a keeper, Simran,” Claire says, her voice soft and resolute.

I swallow hard, knowing she is right.

“I know,” I whisper. “And that’s what scares me. Now that he knows about Veer, I’m terrified of what he’ll do next. I don’t want any disruption in our lives because of this.”

Claire places a reassuring hand on my knee. “There will be changes, Simran. And they might be big, even overwhelming. It’s not just about you and Veer anymore. Vishnu is an integral part of your life now that he knows he’s Veer’s father. That is the reality, whether you are ready for it or not. If he wants to be involved in raising his child, I don’t think you’ll have much choice in the matter.”

Her words hit cut through me. I know she’s right, but the reality of it is overwhelming. The future feels uncertain, like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, not knowing whether I’ll fly or fall. I open my mouth to respond, but before I can say anything, the doorbell rings, interrupting our talk.

“Who could that be?” I murmur, more to myself than to Claire.

“Don’t worry,” Claire says, standing up. “I’ll go and check.”

My heart races as I watch Claire return with one of Vishnu’s guards from yesterday. But it’s the man trailing behind him that truly captures my attention. He appears to be in his early forties, with a build that speaks of raw strength and years of experience. His short hair, sharp eyes, and the way he carries himself exude power and authority. The gun holster at his hip sends a chill down my spine, confirming my observation that this is no ordinary bodyguard.

“I’m Abhay,” he announces, his voice gruff and all business-like. No smile, no handshake—just cold, hard facts. “I’ll be your personal bodyguard from now on. Wherever you go, I go. No exceptions. It’s Vishnu’s orders.”

As if sensing the tension in the room, my cat Leila slinks out from behind the couch. She cautiously approaches Abhay, her nose twitching as she sniffs at his boots. I watch, half-amused and half-anxious, as she investigates this stranger in our home.

Confusion and surprise war within me. Didn’t Vishnu say he’d be the one protecting me? Then why this sudden change?

“Where’s Vishnu?” I ask, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. “He… he told me he’d be the one... shadowing me. Why do I need someone else?”

Abhay’s silence is deafening. His stoic expression betrays nothing as he simply states, “Let me know when you’re ready to leave for the boutique. I’ll accompany you.” With that, he turns and heads towards the door.

Frustration bubbles up inside me. I’m not about to let this go so easily. I follow Abhay and the other guard out, my voice rising with each step. “Wait! Where is Vishnu? I won’t let anyone else follow me like this, even if it’s his orders. Why isn’t he here? Why has he sent you instead?”

Abhay whirls around, fixing me with a heated stare that makes me want to take a step back. But I stand my ground, chin raised defiantly.

“Vishnu,” he says, each word slow and deliberate, “is not very far from you.” His eyes narrow as he continues, “I don’t know what you’ve done to piss him off so much, but he doesn’t want to see you right now.”

He doesn’t want to see me? The words cut deeper than I expected, and I feel tears of frustration pricking at my eyes. Abhay’s expression doesn’t change as he continues.

“I’ve worked for Vishnu for over a decade, but I’ve never seen him this furious with anyone... especially a woman.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. The weight of my secret—our baby—suddenly feels unbearable. Vishnu’s anger, his sudden distance... it all makes sense now.

“It’s better for you if you keep your distance from him for now. Let him protect you from afar,” Abhay advises, his tone carrying a hint of pity—or maybe it’s a warning.

I open my mouth to protest, but Abhay isn’t finished. His next words send a chill through my veins.

“Listen carefully, Ms. Simran,” he says, leaning in close. “I’ve seen Vishnu angry before, but this... this is different. He’s not just mad; he’s hurt. And when a man like Vishnu is hurt, he can be very unpredictable and dangerous, even to those he cares about. So, try not to get close to him until he cools down.”

I swallow hard, feeling the blood drain from my face.

“Don’t push him right now. Let him work through this. It’s for your own safety, and for his too. Because if you don’t... I’m not sure even I can protect you from the fallout.”

Before I can come up with a response, a movement catches my eye. A group of men—all built like Abhay and radiating that same aura of danger—stride past us and give him a curt nod before entering the apartment across from mine. The one that’s been vacant for months.

Without thinking, I follow Abhay and these men, my mind reeling. As I step into the apartment, my eyes widen in shock. The scene in front of me is like something out of a spy movie. Five men are unpacking bulky, high-tech gear and setting up what looks like state-of-the-art surveillance equipment. My breath hitches as I spot detailed floor plans of not just our apartment building, but of my boutique as well.

“What’s going on here?” I demand, rounding on Abhay. “Who are these men? And what are they doing?”

Abhay meets my gaze, his expression still hard but slightly less furious than before. “Vishnu has rented this place,” he says, his voice clipped. “These men will be stationed here 24/7 for your security.”

I blink rapidly, trying to process this information. “More security? But—”

“They’ll be monitoring everything,” Abhay cuts me off, gesturing to the equipment. “Live CCTV feeds from your office and the apartment, the café you frequently visit, the client details—all to identify potential threats.”

The enormity of these measures hits me like a tidal wave. This isn’t just protection; it’s a complete invasion of privacy. I open my mouth to protest, but Abhay’s next words stop me cold.

“We only take orders from Vishnu,” he states flatly, his tone cold and final. “Anything you say is invalid and won’t change any of this.”

I stand there, frozen, as Abhay turns back to his men, barking out orders with the confidence of someone used to being obeyed without question. The world seems to tilt on its axis, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. He outlines a series of rules and procedures that make my head spin. I’m to inform him of my movements at all times. No unscheduled stops or detours. My phone will be monitored, and my internet usage will be tracked. Even my interactions with clients at the boutique will be under scrutiny.

I feel a surge of anger, hot and sudden. “Security protocols? Is that what you call this invasion of privacy?”

“These measures are for your own protection, ma’am.”

“And what about what I want?” I snap. “Doesn’t that matter at all?”

For a moment, I see something flicker in Abhay’s eyes—pity, perhaps? But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” he says, his tone softening slightly. “Not in this matter.”

The finality in his voice makes my stomach churn.

“Can I at least talk to Vishnu? Directly?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.

Abhay shakes his head. “He is unavailable for you at the moment. All communication goes through me for now.”

Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of how little control I have over my own life right now.

“And what if I refuse?” I ask defiantly.

Abhay’s gaze hardens, his jaw tightening. “That would be inadvisable, Ms. Simran. Mr. Vishnu has made it clear that these measures are non-negotiable.”

“Or what?” I challenge, a bout of reckless bravery taking hold of me. “What will he do? What will you do?”

For a long moment, Abhay is silent. When he speaks again, his voice is low and intense.

“Ms. Simran, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation. He’s doing this to protect you. If you try to challenge his security protocols... well, let’s just say it would be in your best interest not to find out what would happen.”

A shiver runs down my spine at his words. The warning in his voice is unmistakable. Without another word, I flee the apartment, my legs quivering with each step.

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything. Remember, inform me before you leave the apartment,” Abhay’s voice looms behind me.

I stumble back to my own place, slamming the door behind me and sagging against it, gulping for air like I’m drowning. Where is Vishnu? The question pounds in my head. I need to see him now.

I understand, on some level, why he’s keeping his distance. Learning about a child he never knew existed would shatter anyone. He needs time to process, to come to terms with this monumental shift in his life. But the way he’s distanced himself... it’s suffocating. The weight of his sudden absence presses down on me, making it hard to breathe.

Abhay’s warning echoes in my mind: Vishnu’s rage, the potential disaster if I try to meet him and push him too hard. But strangely, fear isn’t what I feel. Despite the secrets I’ve kept from him, despite the months of silence about our child, there’s one thing I believe with absolute certainty—Vishnu would never physically harm me. The thought itself is laughable. What terrifies me the most is what if this distance between us becomes permanent?

Claire’s concerned face swims into view as she reaches the living room.

“Simran? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I shake my head, unable to form the words just yet. How do I explain to her that my life has suddenly turned into some kind of surveillance nightmare? That the father of my child has essentially put me under house arrest without even being here himself?

I push myself off the door and start pacing, the nervous energy coursing through my body, demanding an outlet.

“Vishnu has rented the apartment across from us. It’s filled with men and equipment. They’re watching everything, Claire. Everything!”

Claire’s eyes widen. “What do you mean, watching everything?”

“CCTV feeds, data from the café, client details from the boutique,” I say, my voice rising with each word. “They’re monitoring it all. And that man, Abhay—he’s going to be my personal bodyguard now. Following me everywhere!”

Claire’s voice breaks through my whirlwind of thoughts. “I think Vishnu’s just trying to protect you. That’s all,” she says, her tone gentle, almost placating.

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. This isn’t protection. It’s blatant control.

I’ve seen this before. Vishnu is obsessed with safeguarding his family. Memories flash through my mind—subtle hints that I’d noticed in the past. The way Vishnu would tense up at the mention of his family’s safety. The elaborate fortress-like security measures at his home. The bodyguards that seemed to materialise out of thin air whenever the Walia family were out in public.

And now that he knows about the baby— our son —he’s going to impose those same measures on us. On me . This surveillance, the bodyguards—it might have all started because of the threat I faced from that masked man, but it’s just the beginning. Vishnu won’t stop here. He’ll want to control every aspect of our lives. Where we go, who we see, what we do. All in the name of ‘protection.’

However, I’m not sure if an independent woman like me, who has always lived her life freely and on her terms, can live like that for long.