Vijay: The reluctant woman

Chapter 17: The Bitter Choice

Suresh’s voice dropped to a broken whisper in the darkness of the lodge room.

“That face… That is the man who killed my wife.”

The words landed like a hammer. Vijay lay motionless on the mattress, still wrapped in the emerald-green saree, the fabric cool against his skin. His breath caught. The visiting card in his fingers suddenly felt heavier than iron.

Suresh continued, his tone flat but edged with old pain. “Ramana is the one who ordered it. He is the one who destroyed everything I had. My wife, my home, my name. Because of him I had to bury my entire life and become this… this thing that men paw at on street corners.”

Vijay’s mind reeled. His own brother — the boy who had once carried him on his shoulders, the man who had looked at him with love only hours earlier — was the monster who had shattered Suresh’s world. The realization clawed at him from the inside. *How can the same blood run in both of us? How can the brother I mourned for fifteen years be the killer who forced Suresh into this hell?*

A storm of conflict tore through Vijay. Part of him still wanted to defend the memory of the Ramana he had known — the protective elder brother who had walked away to survive. That part whispered that maybe, just maybe, there was still good left in him. But another, sharper voice — the one sharpened by months of terror and humiliation — reminded him of the truth Suresh had just laid bare. Ramana was no longer the boy from Banjara Hills. He was a high-ranking criminal, a man whose hands were stained with innocent blood. A man who had looked at Vijay’s feminine body with open lust tonight.

Vijay turned his head toward Suresh. In the faint moonlight he saw the gorgeous curvaceous woman's face in blue saree— calm, composed, even now. Suresh had lost his wife, his honor, his entire identity as a respected officer. He had willingly become a plaything for goons and strangers, letting them touch, squeeze, and degrade him, all so he could gather the evidence needed to bring justice. And through it all, Suresh had never lost his clarity. He had protected Vijay from the first night, taught him how to survive in this body, stood beside him like the brother Vijay had never had. Suresh had become the steady hand guiding him, the voice that kept him alive when everything else had fallen apart.

*He gave up everything for strangers… for justice. And here I am, hesitating because the criminal happens to share my blood.*

Vijay felt the shame burn deeper. Having a soft corner for Ramana simply because he was family — was that justice? No. It was weakness. The same weakness that had kept him blind to his father’s gambling, that had kept him working for Srinivas Rao for years. Justice did not bend for blood. Justice did not care whose brother the killer was.

He thought of the children Ramana had mentioned — innocent lives already touched by this darkness. He thought of the countless other families destroyed by the gang. He thought of Suresh lying beside him, still wearing the blue saree, still carrying the weight of a murdered wife.

The mission was no longer about escaping this feminine life. It was bigger now. It was about ridding the state — the entire country — of the cancer that had ruined so many. Even if it meant Vijay had to walk into the fire himself. Even if it meant marrying his own brother.

He closed his eyes and let the truth settle deep in his chest.

*This marriage is not real. I am not a woman. None of this is real. It is only a role in the mission. A role I will play until the gang is finished.*

Vijay turned to Suresh, his voice low but steady despite the tears still drying on his cheeks. “You’re right, Anna. I will do it. I will agree to the courtship. I will become the wife he wants if that is what it takes. Not for me. Not even to escape this body. But to end this once and for all. For your wife. For every family they have destroyed. For justice.”

Suresh looked at him for a long moment, pride and sorrow mixed in his eyes. He reached out and gently squeezed Vijay’s shoulder through the thin blouse. “You are not alone in this. Not anymore.”

Vijay lay back down on the mattress, the green saree rustling softly around him. Sleep still refused to come. He stared at the visiting card in his hand, Ramana’s photo catching the moonlight. The weight of the decision pressed down on him — love and hatred, duty and shame, blood and justice all tangled together.

But for the first time since he had become Priyanka, Vijay felt something close to clarity.

He was no longer just surviving.

He was choosing the fight.

And he would see it through.

To be continued ..