Shape of the Sun

Roundtable talk

At the same time in Mumbai, India.

It was well into the afternoon. But even though the sun was blazing hot high up there in the sky, it did not affect any of the individuals seated around the oval table. The conference room had air-conditioners that were in perfect condition and there were chilled glasses of water and a variety of many other drinks on the table before them, representative of their status.

They were, afterall, very distinguished men and women. There was nobody in that room that didn't have power or wealth, and when such people were gathered in one place, it meant that something important was cooking. And today, it was.

"Does anyone know where Bhairav is? We can't delay this meeting any further." a young woman with tufts of dyed silver hair mixed with black was the one that spoke up. There was no trace of panic on her face as she calmly reached for a glass of water and took a sip.

Watching her series of actions, the others had varying expressions on their faces, some amused, others looked pensive, but there were others that were outright irritated and didn't bother to hide it. A man that was sitting right across her at the table sneered, loud enough so everyone heard it. The woman's stoic expression crumbled upon seeing that it was him, and everyone else just looked on, expectant for the show.

Anand didn't even want to listen to this woman bullshit. That was all she knew how to do, how could he not be aware? She was his ex-wife. The bitch almost ruined him in the divorce that year, too. He hated her, damn, second to that asshole who laced his food when he was in Bavaria. Both of them were his mortal enemies.

"Tch. Don't be so hypocritical here, no one has time for your drama, okay?"

"Anand, you son of a bitch."

"At least, I was hers. Who is the father of that little tramp you almost planted on me? The driver?" he kept talking, ignoring her paling expression, "The cook? Or perhaps, one of the millions of men on the street that you screwed when I was away? So shameless." He wanted to kill this woman. She scammed him blind for years, for Pete's sake!

"Anand..."

"The both of you shut the hell up!"

Everyone, including the referenced two, went quiet with the interruption of the latest entry. Even those that looked dissatisfied didn't say anything. The man in question looked around the silent room with all the faces in it, looking intently back at him, and felt satisfaction in his heart. This feeling increased when his eyes fell upon the empty seat at the head of the table.

"How very peculiar." As he talked, he slowly made his way towards it, hands leisurely folded behind his back, "Bhairav isn't here with us today for such an important review as that concerning the prime minister's office renovation project. How peculiar of our association's president. Must be busy taking care of his brood, don't you think?"

His last question invoked laughter in everyone else in the room, who understood what he was getting at. But that didn't mean that they just merely found it funny. Hell, no. All of them in the room were not people to be trifled with, so who couldn't use their brains? The fact that Bhairav had been their president for years meant that he was very strong and knew how to subdue them through different means, even if it came back to being diplomatic. And it didn't help that the old bastard was extremely rich and powerful, to the point that it made their teeth ache. Or else, why would they watch and allow another person step over them?

It was just that they had a measure. This was business, and the group under Bhairav's leadership had become richer and developed a monopoly on construction work in South-East Asia, hence all the important projects they were having. So why mess it up for a personal grudge? Money could solve all problems, okay?