Shiddat

Chapter 23

Adiraj Rajput stood alone on the expansive balcony of his hotel suite, his gaze fixed intently on the breathtaking expanse of the Dubai skyline. The city beneath him sparkled under the silent light from the moon, a glittering tapestry of glass and steel that seemed to mock his present discontent. The view was magnificent, a showcase of modern achievement and opulence, but for Adiraj, it served only as a cruel reminder of the day's events.

His fingers gripped the edge of the polished balcony railing, his knuckles turning an ashen white as he tightened his hold. It should have been a moment of triumph—his triumph. Yet the reality was far from what he had envisioned. Instead of basking in the glow of victory, he found himself overshadowed once more by Arjun Rathore. The headlines that greeted him earlier had felt like a physical blow to his gut. 

"Arjun Rathore secures the Dubai project, cementing his leadership in the global market."  The words were displayed on every news channel, and there was Arjun, the epitome of calm and confidence, shaking hands with the Dubai partners. His presence exuded an almost smug satisfaction; the image burned into Adiraj's mind like an unrelenting stain of defeat.

Adiraj's own name had been mentioned in the report, almost as an afterthought. "Adiraj Rajput co-signs the deal, marking another win for Rajput Enterprises."  The words seemed hollow and dismissive, a stark contrast to the prominence given to Arjun. He had fought fiercely for this deal, investing countless hours and immense effort into crafting the strategy that would propel Rajput Enterprises into the spotlight. Yet the acknowledgment he received felt superficial, a mere footnote to Arjun's grand victory.

His eyes drifted to the desk behind him, cluttered with documents and blueprints he had painstakingly developed. The detailed plans for expansion, which he had once viewed as the cornerstone of his efforts, now seemed insignificant and pointless. They were just ink on paper, a futile testament to his struggle against a rival who always seemed to eclipse his achievements. The anger within him was a smoldering ember, barely contained beneath the surface. Every victory he secured was overshadowed by the larger-than-life presence of Arjun Rathore, leaving him perpetually in the shadow of that infuriatingly smug face.

His gaze shifted to the muted TV, where a panel of analysts dissected the deal. Their voices were calm, analytical, but each word felt like a dagger. "Arjun Rathore's vision is unparalleled,"   one of them said. "His leadership continues to set the standard in the industry."

Adiraj felt his blood boil. Vision? Leadership? He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. It wasn't Arjun's vision that had secured this deal—it had been his relentless work and his careful maneuvering that had brought Rajput Enterprises to the table. And yet, here they were, singing Arjun's praises, as if the man had single-handedly conquered the market. It felt as though all his hard work was being overshadowed, his contribution reduced to a mere afterthought.

The sudden buzz of his phone on the desk snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. The screen displayed Vidyut Rajput's name, a stark reminder of the expectations and pressure he faced. Adiraj hesitated for a moment before answering, his voice betraying none of the turmoil he felt. "Yes, Dad?" he said, his tone cold and controlled.

On the other end, Vidyut's voice was sharp, laced with disappointment. "I saw the news. This isn't what we discussed."

Adiraj's jaw tightened. "I know. We were close, but—"

"But close isn't good enough," Vidyut interrupted, his voice steely. "You had one job—to outmaneuver Rathore. And now look where we are. You've let him win again."

The call ended abruptly, leaving Adiraj staring at the phone in his hand. Vidyut's words hung heavily in the air, a palpable weight of unspoken expectations and unmet promises. He felt as though he were a lion trapped in a cage, pacing back and forth in a futile attempt to escape the frustration that gnawed at him. His anger simmered just below the surface, a tempest of frustration and resentment that threatened to break free.

Adiraj threw the phone onto the desk with a sense of finality, his chest heaving with the intensity of his emotions. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the once meticulously styled strands—a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. He had been so close, so certain that this deal would finally be the one to shift the scales in his favor. But once again, Arjun Rathore had snatched the victory from his grasp, leaving him standing in the periphery, watching as his rival reveled in the success.

His father's voice echoed in his mind, each word a sharp jab that intensified his feelings of inadequacy. "You've let him win again." The disappointment in Vidyut's voice was not just a reflection of his failure but a deep-seated reminder of how crucial surpassing Arjun was to securing his father's approval. Success, in Vidyut's eyes, was not merely about achieving goals—it was about surpassing Arjun and proving his superiority.

In a moment of reflexive action, Adiraj picked up his phone, the weight of his father's disappointment pressing down on him. His fingers moved with a sense of purpose as he unlocked the screen, bypassing the barrage of messages and notifications that cluttered his inbox. Without a second thought, he navigated to a hidden folder in his gallery—one that had lain dormant for some time.

Inside the folder were only a few images, each one a fragment of a past that felt increasingly distant. The photos depicted a woman who had once been his greatest source of inspiration—a woman whose presence had illuminated his life with hope and encouragement. Her smile was radiant, a beacon of warmth that made everything seem possible. Adiraj's thumb hovered over the first image before he tapped it open, the picture coming into sharp focus.

It was a picture of her, standing in the sunlight, her eyes sparkling with an inner strength and wisdom that had always captivated him. He had admired her more than anyone else, and her belief in him had been a guiding light during his darkest moments. Now, those images felt like relics of a bygone era—reminders of a time when he had felt invincible, a time that seemed forever lost.

As he swiped through the photos, each one evoking a flood of nostalgia, his jaw clenched tightly. The images were supposed to be a source of inspiration, a reminder of why he had fought so hard. Yet today, they only served to emphasize the emptiness that followed each victory that wasn't truly his own. The admiration he once felt now seemed overshadowed by a deeper, more troubling sense of inadequacy.

With a heavy heart, Adiraj locked his phone and placed it back on the desk. The images of her, once a source of comfort and motivation, now felt like distant echoes of a past he could no longer grasp. He had once drawn strength from her belief in him, but now that strength had transformed into a steely resolve. He couldn't afford to falter—he couldn't afford to let her down. Not again.

Leaning back in his chair, Adiraj's resolve hardened. Arjun might have seized the spotlight for now, but this battle was far from over. He would forge ahead, building something grander, something that would eclipse Arjun's momentary triumph. Patience was not his strong suit, but he would bide his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Adiraj glanced once more at the TV screen, where Arjun's face still dominated the news cycle. A cold smirk crept onto his lips as he muttered, "Enjoy your moment, Rathore. Because when I strike, you won't see it coming."

Adiraj walked over to the desk and picked up a pen, flipping through the pages of his plans. His mind worked quickly, searching for the next move. He wasn't just a co-signer. He was Adiraj Rajput, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to turn the tables when no one expected it.

His eyes fell on the scattered documents on the desk once more—the expansion plans, the strategy that he had carefully constructed. He hadn't lost yet. This deal might have been a shared victory, but there was more at stake, and he wasn't finished fighting.

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