The Husband Let His Mistress Pull His Pregnant Wife’s Hair on a Private Jet, but Her Billionaire Brother Made Them Pay a Heavy Price…
On a cold, foggy morning, Ninoy Aquino International Airport was shrouded in a thick mist. Outside the luxury private jet of the Santos Group, a light drizzle fell; this conglomerate was renowned in Manila, Cebu, and among international investors.
Inside the plane, Aarti, six months pregnant, sat silently by the window, hands clasped over her belly, anxiety gripping her. She had only agreed to fly because her husband, Rohit, had told her it was an “important family meeting.” Yet all morning, Rohit avoided looking her in the eyes. A dark premonition grew heavier in Aarti’s heart.
Just then, the sharp click of heels echoed down the aisle.
A girl appeared, wearing a designer red coat, lips curved in a victorious smirk.
Neha.
Aarti’s heart stopped. She knew that name. She had seen it multiple times on Rohit’s phone the night before. She had asked about it, but Rohit refused to answer.
Now Neha was here, as if she owned the place, boarding the family’s private jet.
“Rohit,” Neha said with a sweet smile, leaning close to touch Aarti’s cheek. “You didn’t tell me I was coming too?”
Aarti froze.
Rohit, embarrassed, muttered:
“First we fly, then we talk.”
Aarti whispered:
“You brought her on a… family flight? Rohit… I’m pregnant.”
Before she could finish, Neha rolled her eyes, leaned forward, and said sarcastically:
“Don’t start with your pregnant woman drama.”
Then, suddenly, she grabbed Aarti’s hair and yanked hard.
“Ahhh!” Aarti screamed, clutching the armrest.
“You’re not worthy of him,” Neha spat. “Nor of this family… nor of this life…”
A deep roar came from the back of the plane:
“What the hell is going on here?”
The atmosphere froze.
At the cabin door stood…
Veer, Rohit’s elder brother—the young billionaire and CEO of Santos Group. He wore a long dark gray coat, his presence so cold and commanding that it seemed he could shake the Philippine financial market with a single word.
Rohit’s face went pale.
“Brother… I can explain.”
“Then explain,” Veer’s voice was as hard as steel.
Aarti wiped her tears. Neha released her hair, stepping back, her victorious expression fading.
Veer’s eyes scanned the scene: Aarti’s messy hair, trembling hands, Neha’s defiant face, and Rohit’s guilty look. He clenched his jaw.
“Aarti,” he asked, “did she touch you?”
Aarti was about to answer, but Rohit intervened:
“Brother, don’t make it bigger than it is. Nothing happened. Neha just got carried away.”
Neha nodded in agreement:
“Exactly. She provoked me.”
Veer acted as if he hadn’t heard.
“Aarti. You tell me.”
Aarti looked at Veer—his eyes fierce, protective, full of anger for her—and whispered:
“Yes. She pulled my hair. Very hard.”
The silence fell like a block of ice.
Veer turned to the head of security:
“Rakesh, remove her from the plane.”
Neha gasped.
“What? Remove me?”
Rakesh stepped forward:
“Miss, you must leave the aircraft.”
“Never!” Neha shouted. “Rohit! Do something!”
But Rohit just bowed his head.
“Attacking my family on my plane,” Veer said coldly, “means you have to go.”
Neha struggled, but Rakesh held her firmly.
“You’ll regret this!” she yelled. “Rohit promised me—”
Veer cut her off:
“Rohit has no authority to promise anything here. I make the decisions.”
Within seconds, Neha was escorted off the plane, the door closing behind her screams.
Aarti breathed heavily, her heart still racing.
Rohit looked at his brother angrily:
“You humiliated her.”
Veer stepped closer, his voice sharper:
“No. You humiliated your wife. And the entire family.”
Rohit stayed silent.
Veer turned to Aarti:
“Are you hurt?”
Aarti shook her head:
“Just scared.”
“Good,” Veer said. “Because this ends here.”
Then he looked directly at Rohit:
“I warned you. This family doesn’t have to be perfect, but it must be respectful. You brought your mistress onto the plane while your pregnant wife was here—and allowed her to harm her.”
“It’s not what you think…” Rohit stammered.
“It’s exactly what I think,” Veer replied. “And from this moment, you are suspended from all your duties at Santos Group. Effective immediately.”
Rohit’s eyes widened:
“You can’t do that—”
“I can,” Veer said. “And it’s done.”
Aarti was stunned by the billionaire’s commanding authority.
“When we land,” Veer continued, “you will go to the Westernal Villa. Alone. And you will have no contact with Neha.”
Rohit’s voice trembled:
“Brother… please…”
“Your actions brought these consequences,” Veer said.
Rohit slumped in his seat, defeated.
The plane’s engine sounded steady now. Aarti looked out the window; her heart finally felt a little lighter. For the first time that morning, she felt safe.
Minutes later, Veer spoke softly:
“Forgive me for everything you had to endure. You are family. And family protects each other.”
Aarti cried, not from pain, but from the warmth in his words.
“Thank you, Veer.”
He simply nodded.
“Take care of your baby. Leave the rest to me.”
Rohit remained silent, knowing everything he had tried to hide had spiraled out of control.
And on that cold morning over Manila, one thing was clear:
Aarti was not alone.
And anyone who dared to hurt her… would pay the price.