Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
Songs for the chapter : Phoenix by Olivia Holt. Banjaara by Mohd. Irfan
* * * *
Five years ago.
The elevator opened directly into his private office placed on top of the largest building on Lime Street, London, a middle aged man strolled towards a huge room occupying the corner of the building with floor-to-ceiling windows giving views in two directions, on one side the strong articulated towers, the monuments to the modern age, acres of glass strung together with shiny steel, reflecting light as well as any mirror so incredibly the streets seemed brighter, representing a progressive modern city and on the other side the serene and conservative City bustling near the Walbrook River, preserving the olden and great history of the city.
The rumble of his boots echo in the office as the man took steady and determined steps with his two associates on both sides. He enters and stop as he looks at the young man smoking near the window. The two remaining walls contained a door, a low bookshelf, and a single oil painting - a girl with a pearl earring by Johannes Vermeer.
The black glass surface of his desk was equally uncluttered: a computer, a leather notebook, and a framed photograph of a middle aged woman.
Sidharth smirked as he saw the man's reflection on the mirror, but he didn't turn and let him burn in his furry, Sidharth observed the man, the man had an easy going style, but it was this conniving persona that made him dangerous. He hid his true self like a snake covered with leaves. There was no indication of evil intent, no hint of self deviant motives. He didn't care who got hurt because his passion is power. He hid behind a congenial mask of concern even as he planned to control others.
Yuvraaj Shergill.
"I don't know if I should call you brave or stupid for crossing me, when I warned you not to?"
"Do you think I give a Fuck?" Sidharth chuckled taunting him. His voice like a roll of thunder. His words were always soft but no-one ever ignored what he said.
The associates shuffle from foot to foot at his intimidating voice.
"You are going to pay for this, young man" he hissed as he looked at the young man who nonchalantly turns around and stubs his cigarette in the ashtray.
"You really underestimated me Mr. Shergill, you thought I'm some young new guy, and you can intimidate me, but you forgot I'm a Raizaada and today I ruined you just like my dad did all those years ago,—he looks up at the man—"what? You really thought I wouldn't know about how my dad destroyed you by revealing all your other..... Businesses"
