Party in style

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In theory, the annual construction group event should have had a sober mood to it, with everyone pushing to widen their contacts, discussing what stocks were falling and if the dollar had risen the day before. It could also be the British pound, or the Japanese yen, or whatever it was, it was business and money had to fall or rise; it was useless if it just sat there doing nothing. It should have been a busy night.

Then again, in theory.

The actual events that took place every year were dramatic, where everyone wore clothes in a selected color code and showed off whose net worth had increased over the past twelve months, whose son impregnated a maid, or whose wife cheated with the brother. One would see grown men, women, children, it didn't matter who it was, all decked up in the finest of clothes and gossiping like the next person on the street. It was truly a good example of the rich also crying, except instead of crying over their own misfortunes, they cried over those of others.

The five hours stuffed full of hypocrisy was why everyone in the Reddy family hated attending. Everyone here made them sick to their stomach - and they made them sick in return with their successful lives. No one could comprehend how the family was so peaceful and competent. For years, many scolded Prithvi in their hearts for being so useless. What kind of illegitimate son are you if you can't cause trouble? You are just useless, okay? If Prithvi knew what they had been thinking, he would have felt wronged. Hey, he was pitiful, having such a powerful and blatantly partial old man. If no one could see it, could he, Prithvi Malholtra, miss the blatant bias his father had for his half-brother? He too, in turn, scolded Choti for being so useless. What kind of daughter are you if you can't cause trouble? Open your eyes, okay?! He didn't want to take the blame from all those people like he had done for many years even if it was unawares.

But this year, he was spared. This year, it was different, on a lot of levels. First, the public announcement of the architect spearheading the prime minister's project was to be announced. Even though this was only a formality, it still managed to make the atmosphere more serious, a great departure from the past. However, it wasn't the announcement as much as the behind-the-scenes that caused a buzz. News was going around that Bhairav Reddy's candidate had been rejected for the current person in charge. And there was still more gossip - it was on the Reddy son-in-law who was also the new darling of the city. Not. Many claimed to have seen him going around all the casinos, gambling away huge sums of money. It was a shame. Not.

They loved it. Whether any of the news was true or not, they loved it, because they could finally have a good laugh at the sanctimonious Reddys. Even though this year's event was more serious, it wasn't like anyone could stop anybody else from whispering or chatting away these rumors on their phones.

And because they loved it, the Reddys hated it. They were the ones being gossiped about, so it would be weird if they were in a good mood. Bhairav pulled a long face, tired and upset all at once. Even though no one was stupid enough to say it within earshot, he knew that his family was being used as dinner table fodder for all these stupid people. It was so humiliating having such eyes on you, especially since he was the supposed president of this group. And he was clear on the word 'supposed', because the rest of the group flocked to Shakti's side, sending gleeful glances his way from across the room. Even worse, Murari, his secretary, was MIA, meaning that Bhairav had to prepare an impromptu welcome speech on his own. It irritated him to no end. Yet, he had a hard time figuring out if that was a level above a certain offspring of his, who was currently pacing the space in front of him, rambling into her phone.

Nirali must have said something but he didn't hear, even when she reached for his arm to divert his attention. Perhaps, it was the grief and now, the disgrace that this daughter brought to him.

Shape of the SunOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora