"Scotch. Neat"
Arnav surveyed the pumping music, and pulsating long legs, and the vibgyor stilettos with an indifferent air, smirking as the server tried to discreetly pull the halter up her cleavage, while trying to take orders. He glanced at brown hand fidgeting with the hem of the neckline, and raised an eyebrow. 32B. Not his type. Maybe later, when he'd be chugging the celebration liquor now. Champagne. No less. Two months after having to deal with the bas***ds, he'd enjoy telling them that now they had nothing. So they could take the tips on sex and sell them. An attempt at getting breakfast. Or maybe they could publish a book. One Hundred Ways to ensure Arnav Singh Raizada bankrupts you after two months. He smiled slightly. That would certainly sell. Not. He'd make sure of that. Two months of scouring the files with a fine-tooth comb. Trying to find one little slip. And he found it. And one thing led to another, and here he was, planning whether he would screw the server, the leggy brunette who slipped her number into his salted peanuts, or both.
Arnav coughed and bought their attention back to him. And he watched the self-satisfied smile slide off their faces, Like the Dulux paints advertisement. When the mother removes the stains on the wall with a single swipe of the pink cloth; as he told them that he was really sorry, but they may have to prop their Armani's on sticks and stay underneath it- on the sidewalks of BRT. Armani on sticks? Maybe not that bad, he amended inwardly. But he could have his fun, couldn't he? He watched with a bemused air, as the Mehra twins turned precisely the same shade of pale puce. Or maybe it was the lights. He didn't know. Neither did he care. Two months of putting a blind eye on their malpractices, because AR really needed the support, he could finally have his own back. He watched them frantically call their men, pushing the legs encased in blood red stilettos sprawled on their laps, enjoying each and every second of it.
He personally had no issues with the Mehra Industries. Akram Mehra and he had an unspoken understanding that would not stick their noses into each others' turf. But then, the old man had passed away, and the twins took over. The twins. He thought in a bout of suppressed rage. How he hated them. Overbearing, sly, mother-f**king fools. He was sure that the twins had something to do with the recent string of events, which led AR to collaborate with them, at very low profit rates. Now, Arnav thought, with grim satisfaction. They'd know. That they couldn't mess with two things. Laws of nature, and him. He watched, with grim satisfaction, their shoulders slump, as they realised that it really was over. He paid the bill, well aware of the slap he had bestowed on their cheeks, and stood up sedately
Arnav Singh Raizada made it a point to swing his arms as he walked out of the room, and pick the goblet of champagne the twins had expressly ordered for themselves, before looking back at them and allowing a corner of his mouth to turn upward.
Khushi Kumari Gupta was not by any means, an ordinary person. For one, a man had his lips glued to her neck, and all she could think of was her dress. You see, her dress was vintage Chanel - won't do to have wine spilt over it. "Get me a drink, darling" she asked the man, smirking slightly as the man nodded softly and walked off. Nobody could resist Khushi Kumari Gupta's charm - that was for sure. She actually liked this person, it was a pity he had to go. He was... boring.
Khushi Gupta wanted a challenge. Khushi Gupta wanted a man.
The daughter and sole heiress to the Gupta empire deserved no less.
She walked away, her legs so much like the ones our Arnav Singh Raizada had surveyed and smirked. She walked forward into the crowd, ready to be a part of it all. Did all these inebriated fools know who was amongst them? Khushi wondered. Of course they didn't. She was a part of the crowd, and yet she was apart, airily waving the poor man with her drink away. No wonder Arnav Singh Raizada, now seated with his celebratory champagne had noticed her and smirked.
Arnav Singh Raizada had seen his fair share of women, and yes, Khushi Gupta wasextraordinarily beautiful, but it was not that which had drawn his attention to our carelessly dancing Khushi, headstrong and beautiful, but it was the fact that he had recognised her.
For months now Arnav Singh Raizada had wondered how to shake up the very core of the Gupta Empire, after having lost Wadawasi deal to them. It now looked like he had found a way.
Arnav surveyed the pumping music, and pulsating long legs, and the vibgyor stilettos with an indifferent air, smirking as the server tried to discreetly pull the halter up her cleavage, while trying to take orders. He glanced at brown hand fidgeting with the hem of the neckline, and raised an eyebrow. 32B. Not his type. Maybe later, when he'd be chugging the celebration liquor now. Champagne. No less. Two months after having to deal with the bas***ds, he'd enjoy telling them that now they had nothing. So they could take the tips on sex and sell them. An attempt at getting breakfast. Or maybe they could publish a book. One Hundred Ways to ensure Arnav Singh Raizada bankrupts you after two months. He smiled slightly. That would certainly sell. Not. He'd make sure of that. Two months of scouring the files with a fine-tooth comb. Trying to find one little slip. And he found it. And one thing led to another, and here he was, planning whether he would screw the server, the leggy brunette who slipped her number into his salted peanuts, or both.
Arnav coughed and bought their attention back to him. And he watched the self-satisfied smile slide off their faces, Like the Dulux paints advertisement. When the mother removes the stains on the wall with a single swipe of the pink cloth; as he told them that he was really sorry, but they may have to prop their Armani's on sticks and stay underneath it- on the sidewalks of BRT. Armani on sticks? Maybe not that bad, he amended inwardly. But he could have his fun, couldn't he? He watched with a bemused air, as the Mehra twins turned precisely the same shade of pale puce. Or maybe it was the lights. He didn't know. Neither did he care. Two months of putting a blind eye on their malpractices, because AR really needed the support, he could finally have his own back. He watched them frantically call their men, pushing the legs encased in blood red stilettos sprawled on their laps, enjoying each and every second of it.
He personally had no issues with the Mehra Industries. Akram Mehra and he had an unspoken understanding that would not stick their noses into each others' turf. But then, the old man had passed away, and the twins took over. The twins. He thought in a bout of suppressed rage. How he hated them. Overbearing, sly, mother-f**king fools. He was sure that the twins had something to do with the recent string of events, which led AR to collaborate with them, at very low profit rates. Now, Arnav thought, with grim satisfaction. They'd know. That they couldn't mess with two things. Laws of nature, and him. He watched, with grim satisfaction, their shoulders slump, as they realised that it really was over. He paid the bill, well aware of the slap he had bestowed on their cheeks, and stood up sedately
Arnav Singh Raizada made it a point to swing his arms as he walked out of the room, and pick the goblet of champagne the twins had expressly ordered for themselves, before looking back at them and allowing a corner of his mouth to turn upward.
* * *
Khushi Kumari Gupta was not by any means, an ordinary person. For one, a man had his lips glued to her neck, and all she could think of was her dress. You see, her dress was vintage Chanel - won't do to have wine spilt over it. "Get me a drink, darling" she asked the man, smirking slightly as the man nodded softly and walked off. Nobody could resist Khushi Kumari Gupta's charm - that was for sure. She actually liked this person, it was a pity he had to go. He was... boring.
Khushi Gupta wanted a challenge. Khushi Gupta wanted a man.
The daughter and sole heiress to the Gupta empire deserved no less.
She walked away, her legs so much like the ones our Arnav Singh Raizada had surveyed and smirked. She walked forward into the crowd, ready to be a part of it all. Did all these inebriated fools know who was amongst them? Khushi wondered. Of course they didn't. She was a part of the crowd, and yet she was apart, airily waving the poor man with her drink away. No wonder Arnav Singh Raizada, now seated with his celebratory champagne had noticed her and smirked.
Arnav Singh Raizada had seen his fair share of women, and yes, Khushi Gupta wasextraordinarily beautiful, but it was not that which had drawn his attention to our carelessly dancing Khushi, headstrong and beautiful, but it was the fact that he had recognised her.
For months now Arnav Singh Raizada had wondered how to shake up the very core of the Gupta Empire, after having lost Wadawasi deal to them. It now looked like he had found a way.
okay give me sometime....i'll read then comment...
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