Dil Beparwah | ✔

sixteen

||CHAPTER 16||
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┊V A R U N┊

"How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Oberoi? Has the dynamic between the two of you changed over-time?"

Tinkering giggles. Light purple nails tapping rhythmically on my desk. I could still picture the confidence with which she spewed out practiced lies. "He's eccentric-we could all agree on that. I learn something new every time we meet, I guess that's static and dynamic at the same time."

Question averted. Diplomatically answered. Next. "Now that you're following the footsteps of both sets of parents, do you feel that it overshadows your track sometimes?"

"The field is competitive," her voice sounds defensive, like stating the obvious. "But this isn't a competition. It's family business"—flustered, she corrects herself quickly—"Not in the entitled way, I mean, more in the tones of the company being my family. Sure, my parents head different companies, and both have been successful in their own ways. It isn't them 'shadowing' my path—if anything, I'd feel honored if my work joins their league to be even compared to in the first place."

I think I had cracked a smile at her state, I don't remember. This had amused me. She had side-tracked, to her father Mr. Binoy Deewan. Another way of deflecting herself from giving out too much. But dealing with entitled air-heads was a blind job for me now. "What about... your mother and Raman Oberoi? Different empires or not, you're still their daughter. We have seen his phenomenal growth—he started off as a salaried man with just twenty thousand in his pocket, and now, in the span of twenty-five years, runs a multi-million business. This isn't something we witness regularly. He's clearly seen a lot of this world—of both the worlds actually—and strategized even more to get to this standing. Any anecdote, or piece of advice that Raman Oberoi has shared, any father-to-daughter moment you'd like to highlight?"  The illegal part stayed silent. Loud, and silent.

The way she had been biting on her succulent lips, thoughts crossing her face in milliseconds, had made me think if her response was going to be worth the effort. If she was blunt enough to slip up, or smart enough to read the meaning. I must have had blatantly stared, because I did notice her biting the inside of her cheek, lips curving into a flirtatious smile, a jovial shake of shoulder. "You want me to reveal all our trade secrets, don't you?"

And then, I was confused. Had I caught her off-the-grid or did she read between the lines and actually hint at something? Crackling noise of our laughter sounded from the recording device, just as the door to the conference room opened. I paused the recorder instinctively, leaning far back in my chair to see who had barged in. It was Mikesh Rastogi.

"Good Afternoon, sir," Kriti– the only other person in the room, stood up instantly, greeting the bastard. How and why did he command such respect from the juniors?

He grunted a greeting, clearly bummed about something and I honestly didn't mind adding fuel to the fire. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the note he had oh-so-dearly pinned to the soft board. Unfolding it, I read aloud. "R. Oberoi— start up/business  opens 2 weeks after his first marriage to Jyoti Negi... ye tu message nahi kar sakta thha?"

Mickey's brow squinted as he wheeled his chair towards me. "I was in a hurry, and you were busy with Rhidhima Bagchi. And you know this is confidential, I can't just email this kind of detail."

Scoffing, I read over it again. Of course this man had the shadiest story I had covered yet.  Kriti reached for the yellow piece of paper, "Who is she— Jyoti Negi? And unke shaadi se Oberoi Industry ka kya vasta?"