A Promotion Worth Betrayal

The days dragged on, but Raj couldn’t stop thinking about Rani’s belly button. That brief glimpse at the party had seared itself into his mind. He pictured it when he tried to sleep, when he sat at his desk, even in the shower—imagining his tongue tracing that perfect dip instead of the water streaming down his skin.

He was dying to see it.
He needed to see it again.

So Raj began studying Shekar. He learned where he lived, what he drank after work, how his eyes lit up when discussing career growth. And then—the golden detail: Shekar was desperate for a promotion to Vice President. It would change everything for him.

Raj smiled.
This could be useful.

Raj soon discovered Shekar lived just 500 meters from his own luxury apartment. From his 15th-floor penthouse, Raj could barely make out the blurry outline of Shekar’s 10th-floor balcony in the neighboring building. But that was enough.

Now, he started “bonding” with Shekar—casual lunches, shared cabs, even praising his mediocre reports. All while imagining how to turn that promotion into a key… a key to Rani’s navel.

Then came the game-changer. Raj invested in high-powered binoculars—the kind that turned distant shapes into crystal-clear images. Suddenly, Shekar’s balcony appeared inches away, every detail sharp. And Rani, unlike traditional wives, rarely wore sarees at home.

T-shirts. Night suits. Flowy nighties.

She’d often step onto the balcony when bored, sipping tea with Shekar or gazing at the city lights. The binoculars captured everything—but luck never seemed to be on Raj’s side.

Then, one evening, his pulse spiked.

Rani was wearing a cotton saree.

His grip tightened on the binoculars as he drank in the sight: the way the thin fabric draped over her waist, hinting at that sacred hollow beneath. She sat with Shekar, laughing over coffee, completely unaware of Raj’s hungry gaze.

He waited—breath held—for that perfect moment. A breeze. A stretch. Anything to make the saree shift and reveal what he craved.

But the universe refused to cooperate.

As the evening faded without a single glimpse, Raj lowered the binoculars, his chest heavy with frustration. Not today either.

Depression settled over him like a fog. How much longer would he have to wait?

After days of disappointment, Raj’s patience finally paid off.

There she was – Rani on the balcony in a thin cotton saree, her waist glistening with droplets as she hung wet clothes. His breath hitched as water trailed down her stomach, each drop making his mouth water. His fingers trembled against the binoculars, his entire body burning with need.

Come on…just a little more…

His heart pounded violently as he mentally begged the wind to cooperate. Then-

A miracle.

When Rani stretched to reach the clothesline, raising both arms, the saree slipped from her waist. The sight of 70% of that perfect navel exposed sent electric shocks through Raj’s body. His vision blurred with desire, sweat beading on his forehead as his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Rational thought evaporated. His obsession took full control.

Within minutes, hands shaking with anticipation, he grabbed a wine bottle as a gift to shekar and went to their house.

No more binoculars. No more waiting.

Raj stood outside Shekar’s house with a bottle of wine, Through the window, he saw Rani adjusting her cotton saree, briefly revealing the smooth skin just above her navel before covering it again. His breath caught—so close, yet still hidden.

Inside, Rani handed Shekar his coffee. As he set the cup down, his hands slid around her waist, fingers slipping beneath her petticoat. Slowly, he tugged it down a few inches, exposing the soft curve of her stomach.

Raj strained to see, but from his angle, her navel remained just out of view. Then Shekar leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to her belly. Rani shivered, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“Shekar…” she murmured, her voice trembling. Her fingers curled into his shoulders as his lips brushed her sensitive skin. The lightest touch there always sent sparks through her—Raj now knew—her navel was her weakest spot.

Raj’s grip on the wine bottle tightened. That should be me. He could almost feel her trembling under his touch instead.

Just as Shekar’s tongue dipped lower, aiming for that perfect hollow, Raj’s finger jammed against the doorbell.

The sharp ding shattered the moment. Rani jumped, hastily pulling her petticoat up, her cheeks flushed. Shekar shot an annoyed glance toward the door.

Raj stepped back, heart pounding.

Shekar answered, looking surprised but happy to see him. “Raj! What brings you here?”

“I was nearby,” Raj said, holding up the wine. “Thought I’d visit.”

Shekar’s surprise melted into hospitality. “Come in, come in!”

As they settled on the sofa, Rani emerged from the kitchen, still slightly breathless. A faint sheen of sweat glistened at her collarbones. When her eyes met Raj’s, he didn’t miss the way her breathing hitched—just for half a second.

“Coffee?” Her voice wavered like a plucked violin string.

Raj’s gaze smoldered. “Please.”

The moment Shekar stepped away to take a call, the air thickened.

Rani walked through the kitchen, her movements smooth and natural. The light made her still-damp waist shine. Rani walked toward Raj with his coffee. With every step, her hips made the thin cotton saree move in soft waves. The fabric folded and unfolded around her waist like gentle ocean ripples, clinging slightly where she was still damp from earlier.

She handed him the cup, standing close. Too close. A teasing breeze slipped through—her saree shifted, revealing just a glimpse of bare skin near her navel. She didn’t notice.

Raj’s grip on the cup turned desperate.

The moment shattered as Shekar’s voice cut through the tension. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Later, lounging in the living room with his coffee, Raj turned to Shekar with a lazy, knowing smirk.

“How’d you like a promotion?”

Shekar’s eyes gleamed. “Vice President?”

Raj’s gaze drifted to Rani—watching the way her breath caught, the way her fingers trembled around her cup. Perfect.

“It’s yours,” he murmured, letting the words curl in the air between them. “For a price.”

Rani’s lips parted, a flush creeping up her neck. “What price?”

Raj leaned in, his voice a velvet threat. “One night with you… and that irresistible navel of yours.” His eyes dipped to her waist, where the thin fabric of her saree clung just above that sweet, forbidden dip. “I want to taste every drop of sweat that slides into it.” Raj’s hand shot out, gripping her soft waist through the thin saree, his thumb pressing into the exact spot where he knew her navel lay hidden.

Rani’s eyes blazed with fury. “You bastard!” She surged forward, shoving at his chest, her body pressed against his in furious defiance. The heat of her touch only made Raj’s grip tighten for one delicious moment before she broke free. Raj let her push him toward the door, savoring the way her chest heaved with each furious breath.

But just before the door slammed, he caught Shekar’s expression—that flicker of hunger, of consideration.

Raj smirked as he stepped into the night.

This was only the beginning.