The Good Indian Girl

"The Unraveling"

Chapter 1: The Good Indian Girl

Maya Kapoor had always been the perfect daughter.

At twenty-six, she was a successful corporate lawyer in Mumbai, earning more than her parents ever had. She wore crisp sarees to work, spoke in measured tones, and never stayed out past nine. Her conservative Punjabi family prided themselves on their traditional values—no dating, no drinking, and certainly no skimpy clothes.

But beneath the polished exterior, Maya was restless.

Her two best friends, Alisha and Riya, were the opposite—bold, carefree, and unapologetically modern. Alisha, a social media influencer, flaunted her curves in bodycon dresses, while Riya, a fashion stylist, had a different man on her arm every month. They teased Maya mercilessly.

"When was the last time a guy even looked at you, Maya?" Riya would smirk.

"You’re pretty, but you dress like a schoolteacher," Alisha added, flicking her highlighted hair.

Maya was pretty—tall, with deep brown skin, wavy black hair, and sharp features. But she had spent her life shrinking under her parents’ rules. She wore high-necked blouses, avoided makeup, and kept her hair tied in a tight bun. Men barely glanced at her.

At night, alone in her apartment, she watched porn, imagining herself as the women on screen—confident, desired, wanted.

Then came the Europe trip.

Chapter 2: The Escape

Alisha and Riya had been planning a two-week vacation across Spain and France. Maya had never traveled without family before, but she lied to her parents—"It’s a legal conference in Barcelona."

Her mother hesitated. "You’ll be safe?"

"Of course," Maya lied.

The first stop was Costa Brava, a coastal paradise of turquoise waters and hidden coves. Their resort overlooked a secluded beach—one that, as Riya whispered with a smirk, was "clothing optional."

Maya’s stomach twisted.

She had packed modest swimsuits, but the moment they stepped onto the sand, she felt out of place. Alisha and Riya wore tiny bikinis, their bodies golden under the Mediterranean sun. Maya kept her cover-up on, tugging at the hem.

"Relax," Riya laughed. "No one knows you here."

Maya hesitated. Then, with a deep breath, she peeled off her shorts and shirt, revealing a simple black bikini.

For the first time, men’s eyes lingered on her.

Chapter 3: The Dare

Alisha noticed the attention Maya was getting—and didn’t like it.

"You think you’re bold now?" she challenged. "This beach is fully nude. You wouldn’t last five minutes."

Maya’s pulse raced. She had spent her life obeying rules. But something inside her snapped.

"Watch me."

Her fingers trembled as she unhooked her bikini top. The air kissed her bare skin. She had never been topless before—never even imagined it. But the rush was intoxicating.

Alisha’s jaw dropped.

Maya walked toward the water, her back straight, her small breasts exposed. People stared—some amused, some admiring. An elderly couple smiled indulgently; a group of men whispered.

Then came the final dare.

"Go all the way," Riya murmured, eyes glinting.

Maya hesitated. But the thrill was too much.

She slid off her bikini bottom.

Chapter 4: Naked in the Sun

The moment the fabric hit the sand, Maya felt both terrified and alive.

She waded into the water, her body bare under the open sky. The waves lapped at her thighs, her waist, her—

Oh God.

She had never felt so free.

A photographer—a tall, dark-haired Spaniard named Javier—approached her. "You’re stunning," he said in accented English. "May I take your picture?"

Maya should have refused. But she posed, arching her back, letting the camera capture every curve.

Later, as the sun dipped low, Javier carried her over the rocks, his hands "accidentally" grazing her bare skin. That night, alone in her room, she fantasized about him while her fingers worked between her legs.

Chapter 5: Amsterdam Nights

The next stop was Amsterdam—a city of sin and secrets.

Maya had never been drunk before. But after three cocktails, her inhibitions melted.

At a dimly lit club, she met Raj, a charming Delhi boy with a roguish grin. He pulled her onto the dance floor, his hands sliding under her half-unbuttoned shirt. When his lips crashed onto hers, she kissed him back.

"Come to my hotel," he murmured.

Her friends warned her. But Maya was done listening.

Chapter 6: Three Strangers

Raj’s room was sleek, modern. His hands were rough as he stripped her, his mouth hot on her nipples.

"You’re so tight," he groaned, pushing inside her.

Maya gasped. She had lost her virginity to a man whose last name she didn’t even know.

Then came the real shock.

"My friends want you too," Raj said after.

Maya should have left. But the alcohol, the adrenaline, the power of being wanted—

She stayed.

Chapter 7: The Walk of Shame

Three hours later, Maya stumbled back to the club, her clothes disheveled, her body aching in ways she had never felt.

Alisha and Riya gaped at her.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Maya smiled. "I lived."

Two Years Later

Maya Kapoor stood in the sleek, glass-walled conference room of her law firm, her fingers tightening around the contract she was reviewing. At twenty-eight, she had made junior partner—the youngest in the firm’s history. Her parents beamed with pride. The perfect Indian girl, they called her.

If only they knew.

The door opened, and her assistant stepped in. “Mr. Malhotra is here for the merger discussion.”

Maya nodded, smoothing her tailored blazer. Then she froze.

Because walking in wasn’t just any client.

It was Raj.

The man from Amsterdam.

The one who had taken her virginity—and then shared her with his friends.

He was older now, his sharp jawline shadowed with stubble, his expensive suit hugging his broad shoulders. Recognition flickered in his dark eyes. Then—a slow, knowing smirk.

“Ms. Kapoor,” he said, extending his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Liar.

Maya’s pulse roared in her ears. She forced herself to shake his hand, her skin burning where he touched her.

“Mr. Malhotra,” she said coolly. “Let’s get started.”

The Game Begins

The meeting was torture.

Raj was all business—polite, professional, ruthless. But every time their eyes met, his gaze dropped to her lips, her throat, the curve of her waist. As if he was remembering.

As if he knew.

When the others stepped out, he leaned in. “You look good, Maya.”

She stiffened. “It’s Ms. Kapoor to you.”

He chuckled. “Still feisty. I like that.”

Her nails dug into her palms. “This is a professional setting. Whatever happened in Amsterdam stays there.”

“Does it?” His voice dropped. “Because I remember everything.”

Her breath hitched.

“The way you moaned when I first fucked you,” he murmured. “The way you begged for more when my friends took their turn.”

Maya’s face burned. Shame. Anger. And—God help her—arousal.

“You took advantage of me,” she hissed.

“You wanted it,” he countered. “You came back for seconds.”

She had. And that was the worst part.

The Power Shift

That night, Maya lay awake, replaying the encounter.

Raj had left her with a parting shot: “We should catch up. Dinner. Just us.”

She should have refused.

Instead, she found herself outside a penthouse suite at the Oberoi, wearing a dress that hugged every curve.

Raj opened the door, his gaze raking over her. “Knew you’d come.”

Maya stepped inside—and slammed him against the wall.

“This isn’t a reunion,” she snarled. “This is revenge.”

Then she kissed him.

Hard.

The Reckoning

What happened next was raw, brutal, perfect.

Maya wasn’t the naive girl from Amsterdam anymore. She took control. She pushed him onto the bed, climbed on top, and rode him until he groaned her name.

Afterward, Raj looked at her with something like respect. “You’ve changed.”

Maya smiled. “I learned from the best.”

Then she walked out—leaving him wanting more.

Epilogue: The New Maya

The next morning, Maya strode into the office, head high.

She had won.

Not just against Raj.

Against the girl she used to be.

And as she settled into her chair, she allowed herself one last, secret smile.

Because the good Indian girl was gone.

And she was never coming back.