"Politics isn't merely about power; it's about wielding influence with finesse, orchestrating the dance of nations on the world stage."
•••
Welcome to a tale that echoes through the luxurious enclaves of the capital to its very downtrodden streets.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Me?"
Ananya turned her head around to look him in the eye, "It was you who suggested that I should move into your personal residence."
Trayaksh was surprised and impressed by Ananya's sharp insight.
"I see you're not denying it," She said, her tone steady yet laced with a hint of challenge. "I know Dadi wouldn't suggest that. She's been trying to make me feel comfortable, knowing how reluctant I was about this marriage whether you believe it or not."
She paused, turning her eyes to look ahead. "She wouldn't leave me alone like that. Which means it was you. And I understand the reason as well. You want to keep an eye on me, don't you?" Ananya turned her head to him, "But rest assured, I will honor the contract. You have nothing to worry about."
He didn't know if he should be proud of her growing courage or delighted that she said so many words to him in one go.
And what did she say? Honor the what?
The contract my ass. Trayaksh gritted his teeth but he didn't respond.
So what if she found out?
Was it wrong for him to suggest that he wants to live with the woman he took vows with?
Wasn't that what married couples did?
Despite all that, he knew he had been the one to push her away. It was his fault.
He felt guilty.
And the remorse gnawed at him deeply.
But would he allow that one mistake to cost him his Kenzi?
Never.
He just wished he could go back in time and shoot himself in the mouth for ever ordering to make that filthy piece of paper.
And keep an eye on you? You have no idea, baby, how many places I want to keep my eye on.
Yet from the outside, he remained tight-lipped.
Upon seeing this, Ananya turned her head away again to gaze out of the window.
Trayaksh's fists clenched, feeling a surge of frustration and hurt at her dismissal.
The driver, who had an unimpeded view through the rearview mirror, caught sight of Chhoti Malkin turning away and Chhote Malik's fists tightening.
Fearful of the inevitable outburst from his boss, he started praying to the supreme power above.
