What keeps the world moving? Love? Certainly not. Hope? Not really. Money? Absolutely, and no one knows it better than the rich upper class elites of India. But money is not the only thing you can earn. In fact, these elites will tell you there is o...
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I stare at the gold foil wedding card in front of me. Vihaan weds Samiksha. Our names placed together sound weird and look even weirder in print. Nobody else seems to agree with me, though, because they love these invitations. They were printed yesterday after my family's pandit fixed the wedding date. I don't understand the haste because we aren't even engaged yet but according to my mother, 'shubh kaam mein deri nahi karni chahiye'. Which is also why our engagement is set to this weekend, and the wedding exactly three weeks from now.
I place the wedding invitation in my drawer and walk up to the window. The entire morning, I could not stop thinking of my to-be-fiancée, especially after yesterday. Since when am I physically attracted towards her? And then in the car, it felt almost too real, having burgers in the car, joking, laughing, it all felt so... intimate, and I had no interest in being intimate with Samiksha Arora. No matter how hot or beautiful she is. The entire evening yesterday was a slip on my part that wouldn't happen again.
"Sir," My assistant interrupted my thoughts. "Mr. Chadha is here for their appointment. Should I send him in?" I nod and go to take a seat at my desk but before I can reach it, a man who is definitely not Mr. Chadha strolls inside.
"Vihaan Randhawa. The man, the myth, the legend." He drawls.
"Shivam Jindal." I sneer, "What do you think you're doing here?"
"Arrey, na hi na hello? I'm hurt, Vihaan, first you don't tell me about your engagement and now you're acting like this?"
"Leave before I have you thrown out." I grit my teeth. Shivam Jindal might be the most infuriating man on this planet. He has absolutely no talent other than riling people up just for sport. Ever since high school, he has competed with me for everything- grades, trophies, girls' attention but what he never accepted is that there was never a competition- I was always better than him in every sense of the word. So he grew bitter and has made it his life's goal to destroy me. I'd like to see him try.
"Uski kya zarwat hain? Main toh sirf tumhe congratulate karne aaya tha." He smirks, and my blood boils. "Samiksha Arora, right? Man, you're one lucky guy." For some reason hearing Samiksha's name come out of this fucker's mouth makes me even more angry. I clench my fists, ready to smash it in his ugly face.
"I am warning you, Jindal, either security will break your face, or I will." I don't call security just yet, because it feels like he would win. I can handle him on my own. Shivam, however, ignores my warning and continues. What he says next, makes me see fucking crimson.
"She's one good fucking piece of pussy. You know how I know? Cause I've tried it. Yes, she's tried and tested, baby. And she tasted exquisite. Five stars. Would absolutely try it agai-" Whatever shit he was going to spew next was cut off due to my fist. I punch him right in the face, with such force that he falls on the glass coffee table behind him. The table shatters under his weight and he holds his nose, I think I see a hint of blood underneath his hand.
