Meanwhile...
As Ragini walked toward Rohit's private wing, her mind was a mess of thoughts.
Emotions churned within her, but she quickly locked them away. This wasn't about feelings—this was an assignment. Her task was clear: to find someone Rohit felt more comfortable with.
Yes, she had money. And so far, money had helped her navigate through many difficult situations. But deep down, she knew—this one might not be so simple.
Just as she reached the door, she heard voices inside.
"See, I really like how you're built—not in an inappropriate way, but, like, martial. You've got great posture, and your waist? Clearly the result of discipline and effort."
There was a light giggle, unmistakably female.
"Young master, are you flirting with me?"
"No, no, Ms. Chanu. I just meant—I'd like your help training. Whatever happened to me could happen again. I want to be ready next time."
"There are professionals who could help too, you know. You might feel less awkward with someone else."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But let's give it a shot for a week. If it doesn't work, we can figure out something else."
Ragini froze.
Her jaw tightened as she absorbed every word. This—this was the gap she hadn't accounted for. The variable that could topple everything. Diagnosis, treatment, care—it had to be flawless. And only she could ensure that.
A brute like Chanu? Her refined, sensitive son, manhandled by a rough-cut trainer? Unthinkable. The image alone made her stomach turn.
'No,' she told herself. 'This can't be left to someone like Chanu. No matter how skilled, she's not fit to handle a Singhania. Not this one. Not my Rohit.'
Without knocking, Ragini stepped inside, cutting the conversation short. Her tone was sharp, commanding:
"I want some time alone with my son," she said coldly, not even glancing at Chanu. "Make sure no one interrupts us."
Rohit straightened up, surprised but not displeased.
"Sorry, Mom. I went to the bathroom and then got a call…"
She walked toward him, eyes fixed, interrupting:
"How comfortable do you feel around me?"
Rohit blinked. "What type of question is that?" he asked casually. "Why would I be hugging you if I weren't comfortable?"
She looked him in the eyes , "Is that so? I met the doctor—I know your condition. Why are you lying?"
Rohit fell silent. He simply stared at her, then lowered his head.
She knew it. Even if he had lost his memories, by instinct, he was still the same Rohit she had raised—shy and obedient.
A warm sense of pride filled her heart… but it was soon replaced by a heavy sense of responsibility.
She instructed firmly, "If you trust me, lie down. I need to check something."
Rohit hesitated as he lay down. "But, Mom—"
She raised a finger to silence him. "Shh. Don't call me Mom right now. Think of me as a nurse doing her job. Not a word."
Rohit stayed quiet but kept glaring at her.
She pulled back the sheets and paused, noticing a bulge already forming in his pants. Mentally, she hoped it was the second condition—otherwise, there wouldn't be any reaction at all. A faint smirk played across her lips.
She removed his pants and was instantly shocked. 'So.. big!'
Ragini was clearly startled by the size. Even her husband's size was one and half inch less than his. She soon felt guilty for comparing it with someone else, no less her adopted son. However, she remained calm and composed.
She touched his thing in her hands. Its veins were almost visibly popping.
She gave it a small rub as the foreskin opened up, exposing the tip. It was pink and clean. She wondered at the size; what kind of beast it was; if it penetrated, then how far it would reach.
However, her thoughts were shattered by Rohit's sudden groan.
She turned to look at him and saw him hiding his face, avoiding her gaze.
A wave of shame washed over her. How could she even entertain such thoughts about someone she had raised herself? This wasn't desire—it was a responsibility, one she had nearly forgotten.
She gave the skin a slight rub and tried her best to stretch it all the way down to the base, then made it rise back up—making sure the whole process was done gently.
Slowly, slowly, she sped up the motion and felt the warm response growing along his length.
Inside, Ragini felt a quiet relief wash over her, as if this act somehow fulfilled the second condition the doctor had mentioned.
Yet deep down, a forbidden tingling stirred in her lower body, warm and insistent. Though, she pushed it away with all her willpower as her cheeks burned slightly.
Rohit, meanwhile, was barely holding back laughter.
He couldn't believe his clever plan of convincing the doctor to prescribe this "treatment" and swaying his mother, had actually worked.
Hiding his face behind one hand wasn't just for show; it masked the waves of pleasure from her soft touch while letting him steal glances at her beautiful, focused face through his fingers.
Her hands were incredibly gentle, silky smooth against his skin. If he wasn't careful, the building heat might push him over the edge too soon, spilling onto her palms and ruining everything.
As her rhythm quickened and he gazed at her flushed expression, something deeper stirred in his chest. This was no longer just revenge—he wanted this woman, truly wanted her for himself. The words slipped out before he could stop them: "I love it."
Ragini's hands paused for a heartbeat, her eyes widening slightly, but she soon resumed, her strokes growing faster and more confident. The constant motion loosened her saree pallu, letting it slip and reveal a deep, tempting cleavage.
Rohit's gaze locked onto the pale, creamy skin now exposed, his breath catching at the sight.
Her rapid movements made her full breasts sway and bounce beneath her blouse, the soft fabric straining against them.
The sight was too much—he felt an overwhelming urge to touch.
"Ah, please… let me touch it," he whispered hoarsely, reaching out. He gently adjusted her slipping saree and cupped one breast, giving it a tender squeeze.
It felt perfect—firm yet yielding, almost squishy in his palm. So large that his fingers couldn't fully encircle it, the warmth seeping through the thin blouse. An electric jolt shot straight to his core, intensifying the pleasure building below. Fortunately, she hadn't pulled away yet.
He glanced up at her face. She kept her expression stoic, cheeks deeply flushed, eyes fixed on his throbbing shaft as she worked him with steady hands.
Emboldened, he traced his thumb over her hardening nipple through the fabric, pinching lightly and kneading gently to gauge her response.
Her body trembled, a soft gasp escaping as she bit her lower lip—small signs he didn't miss.
The subtle quiver of her thighs and the way her breath hitched confirmed his suspicion: beneath the hesitation, she was giving in to the indulgence.
To ease her lingering guilt and make her feel more at ease, he let his groans flow freely, no longer hiding his pleasure. "Tsss!" "Urgh!"
One hand still covered part of his face in feigned shyness, while the other eagerly squeezed her supple breast, feeling its weight shift with every stroke of her hands. All the while, her soft palms continued their gentle, rhythmic massage on his member.
It felt like a dream pulled straight from the porn he'd watched in his previous life—intense, forbidden, perfect. This made him blurt out with raw honesty, "Ah! I love it… Mom!"
Suddenly, he was abruptly yanked up and slapped across the face.
He instantly felt furious, but his anger faded as he saw Ragini shedding a tear.
All his excitement vanished in instant. He was left speechless and a little guilty.
Ragini noticed his penis shrink to a semi-hard state. Being an experienced woman, she knew what that meant.
She calmed herself and removed her hands as she instructed him, "We'll be leaving for home now. This hospital is not a suitable place for treatment."
She barged out without waiting for a reply.
Rohit rubbed his cheek, confused.
He thought she had been enjoying it—so what was the slap for? Was it because he added the stupid surname, 'mom'? That made sense. She had clearly warned him about that before.
He sighed, regretting that he got carried away with the roleplay, and corrected his pants.
"What a fiery woman," he muttered. "I think we'll have to talk it out."