Hello, Mr. Major General (1)

Chapter 156- Reunion

Shehnaaz got out of the taxi, and looked up at the high-rise buildings in the precinct.

All the apartments located near the heart of the capital city were just as expensive as her apartment in C City’s Andheri precinct. The similar prices meant that the property management and the surrounding layout were more or less the same.

It was a gated community; a security guard stood at the entrance.

It was a lovely place. The roads were immaculately clean, and the precinct was quiet and peaceful, having been built some distance away from the busier thoroughfares in town.

It was obvious that this was a high-class residential area, meant for the wealthy.

There was a separate entrance for the private cars of the community residents and their visitors. Shehnaaz  had arrived in a taxi, however, and had to enter through the pedestrian passageway. She would have to present her ID and obtain permission from the owner of the apartment she
was visiting before she could be allowed inside.

Shehnaaz  looked at her watch. It was exactly half past two in the afternoon, but it was already cold out, and a little
gloomy—thick clouds had drifted over the sun, obscuring it.

Even so, the neighborhood seemed alive with the festive spirit of Christmas.

Two enormous Christmas trees stood at the entrance to the community, crowned with massive 5-point stars. They had been decorated with an assortment of shiny ornaments, LED
lights, and ribbons—the trees were pretty enough now, but they would be absolutely spectacular at night, once the lights were on.

Shehnaaz smiled as she gazed appreciatively at the Christmas trees. She walked into the reception room, her suitcase trundling behind her. She said to the security guard manning the front desk: “Hi, I’m here to attend the party at Room 138 in Building No. 5 today.” She handed him the
invitation in her hand.

The security guard took her invitation and looked it over. He looked up at Shehnaaz in surprise, momentarily
speechless.

Shehnaaz felt there was something odd about the way he was looking at her.

“Is there a problem?” Shehnaaz asked politely. “May I go in?”

“Oh, no, please wait here.” The young security guard blushed and quickly went to the back room to make a phone call. He was probably checking with the owner of Room 138.

Shehnaaz was not in a hurry. She waited patiently at the front desk.

She was dressed in a classic Burberry duffle coat, a periwinkle Hermès cashmere and silk compass scarf, and
tailored cashmere trousers that hugged her long, slender legs. She stood in the middle of the room, slim and erect, as beautiful as a painting that had come alive.

The other security guards in the room exchanged a furtive, knowing look.

After a moment, the young security guard returned and mumbled to Shehnaaz: “Nobody answered the phone. You’ll have to wait outside, I’m afraid.”

Shehnaaz blinked. Her doe-like eyes, clear and mesmerizing, turned the young man’s brain to mush: he could not even remember what he had just said.

“Nobody answered the phone? That can’t be right.” Shehnaaz got out her phone and dialed Parth’s number.

She reached Parth’s voicemail. “Hi, this is Parth Patel. I’m busy right now. Please leave your number and message, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

Shehnaaz: “…”

The guard had been telling the truth: no one was answering the phone.

What was going on?