A Bargain Made with Frosting

Ch.29. A Ghost from the Past

Shivay arrived home burdened by the day's troubles. Annika, humming cheerfully, bustled around the kitchen, a sight that normally soothed him. Tonight, it only tightened his gut. How could he burden her peaceful world with his problems?

Lost in thought, he debated mentioning his troubles. As if sensing his turmoil, Annika turned and surprised him, "Mr. Oberoi! Go freshen up, dinner's almost ready. I'll save you a plate. But hurry back, I have something important to discuss."

Shivay managed a simple "Okay" before retreating to his room. Despite his best effort to hide it, Annika had seen the storm brewing behind his facade.

By the time he returned, dinner was served and Annika waited expectantly. He sat opposite her, bracing himself. "Everything alright at the office?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Shivay, caught off guard, stammered out a denial. "Everything's fine, Annika. You mentioned you had something to discuss?" He tried to deflect, clinging to his mask.

Annika hesitated, "Well, you know Mrs. Patel… Her son's wedding is in Pune, and she wants me to come with her."

A wave of unexpectedness washed over Shivay. He'd braced himself for anything but this. "Oh, of course," he said, nodding in understanding. "You should go then. When's the wedding?"

"We'll be leaving tomorrow and will be back the day after. Is that okay? Will you manage alright?"

The truth was, he wanted her by his side, especially with whatever storm was brewing at work. But the words wouldn't come out. "I'll be fine, Annika. Don't worry about me. Enjoy the wedding."

Anika smiled. "I'll call you to check in. Eat on time, and don't miss me too much."

They finished dinner, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. As they retreated to their rooms, Shivay felt a new weight settle beside the day's troubles – the weight of Annika's absence.

The next morning, Annika hurried to her bakery. Before leaving for Pune with Mrs. Patel, she briefed her staff, emphasizing the need for them to call her with even minor updates. Reassured by their promises to handle things in her absence, Annika joined the Patels for their journey.

Meanwhile, a cloud of tension hung over Shivay's office. When Mishra inquired about Annika's attendance at the party, Shivay curtly dismissed him, stating her absence in Pune. He then instructed Mishra to draft a resignation letter, his voice heavy with defeat as he acknowledged Mr. Jackson's likely rejection of the deal in Annika's absence.

Mishra, crushed by the news, returned to his desk. In Rohit's office, a young woman sat across from him, engaged in conversation. A sudden phone call brought a wide grin to Rohit's face. "Why the giant smile?" the woman asked curiously. "Did you snag that dream deal?"

"Looks like it worked, Natasha," Rohit confirmed. "Shivay's coming to the party alone. Without his wife, he won't be able to sway Mr. Jackson. His position is as good as gone."

Natasha, her voice dripping with feigned sympathy, offered a congratulatory, "Future head, then?"

Moments later, she excused herself and headed straight for Shivay's office, not towards the exit. Ignoring the usual protocol, she knocked on his door and entered upon hearing his "Come in."

Shivay, engrossed in paperwork, assumed it was Mishra and barked, "Did you speak with Mittal about the project?" His eyes widened in shock as they landed on Natasha standing there.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger.

Natasha, feigning innocence, replied, "Just came to see you, Shivay. It's been ages."

Shivay's scowl deepened. "Who told you to come here?" he demanded, suspicion clouding his expression.

Shivay's sharp tone didn't faze Natasha. A sly smile played on her lips. "Let's just say, I heard rumors about a rather important party tomorrow. A party that could make or break your career, Shivay."

Shivay slammed his file shut, the sudden noise echoing in the tense silence. "What exactly do you want, Natasha?" he growled, his patience wearing thin.

Natasha took a step closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can help you, Shivay. Help you secure that deal."

Shivay scoffed. "And what exactly makes you think I'd trust you after everything?"

Natasha rose to her feet, her back straightening with newfound confidence. "Shivay," she began, her voice laced with a dangerous edge, "you're cornered.  Consider this: I can be your ticket to Jackson. As your wife, I can smooth the way. No one's met her, and frankly, it's clear your heart isn't in your marriage. You still love me, Shivay. And I love you too. After the deal goes through, a divorce would be simple. We could be together again."

Shivay recoiled, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. The woman before him was a stranger, a ghost of the Natasha he thought he knew.  "Love?" he scoffed. "Don't use that word so lightly, Natasha.  Love wouldn't dangle a business deal like bait.  Love wouldn't use deceit as a foundation."

His words struck a nerve. A flicker of vulnerability crossed Natasha's face, quickly masked by a steely glint in her eyes. "Perhaps you've forgotten what love looks like, Shivay," she countered, her voice sharp.  "Perhaps you've grown comfortable in your loveless marriage."

The accusation stung. Annika's face, filled with warmth and genuine affection, flashed in his mind. Loveless?  Their marriage wasn't perfect, but it was built on respect, friendship, and a growing affection that surprised him every day.

"She and I have something you and I never did, Natasha," he said, his voice firm. "We have trust, honesty, and a future we're building together. Your proposal is tempting on the surface, but the foundation is rotten. I wouldn't betray her, not for a million Jacksons."

Natasha's carefully constructed facade flickered for a moment, a flicker of jealous rage betraying the carefully practiced charm. "Don't be a fool, Shivay," she countered, her voice sharp. "Love is a luxury we can't afford. Think about your career, your future. Jackson is the key, and I'm offering it to you on a silver platter. All you have to do is say yes."

Shivay stared at her, his gaze cold.  He saw not the glamorous socialite she portrayed, but the manipulative woman beneath the surface. The woman who had used him before, and wouldn't hesitate to do so again.

"Get out, Natasha," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This conversation is over."

Natasha's face contorted in fury.  "You'll regret this, Shivay," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Mark my words, you'll come crawling back to me when you realize what you've lost."

With that, she stormed out of the room, leaving Shivay alone with the echoes of her threats and the weight of his decision. He sank back into his remembering the past he shared with Natasha.

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