"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.
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Bajaj Estate Chandigarh, Punjab India
Unlike Luv's quiet surrender to his dilemma, Manvik was burning with determination.
He was driven by an instinct to do something. Exactly what? He didn't know, he just knew he can't just sit and wait.
After that clash in the hallway at NDIMS, Manvik's perception of Ananya had shifted. When they first met, he'd written her off as a spineless girl, hiding behind the Khatris during a feud that was caused by her.
Only to realize that he was wrong.
And this realization hadn't hit him during their verbal spat at NDIMS. No, the change had taken root much earlier, on the very night of her reception.
That moment when she looked him dead in the eye—without so much as a flinch—it had hit him.
She wasn't weak. The unwavering look in her eyes told him so. And over time, his suspicions only grew stronger.
So when he saw Ananya slipping into a small hallway alone, he followed her.
However, what he stumbled upon next was completely unexpected.
"Of course," Karanvir spat, his words dripping with venom, "chhote log chhote hi rahenge, unme class thode hi aa jaegi."
He loomed over Ananya, his tall frame casting a shadow over her, sneering down at her with distaste.
What the fuck?
Manvik's lips thinned as a surge of incomprehensible anger washed over him, and before he could stop himself, the words spilled out. "Interesting how you forget your own roots so easily, Karanvir."
Karanvir's sharp green eyes snapped to Manvik, the sneer faltering momentarily as their gazes locked. But he recovered quickly, the sneer twisting into a practiced smile, though the venom in his tone remained.
"Roots? I don't know what you're talking about, Manvik." He said, his voice thick with arrogance and a subtle warning. "I'm right where I belong."
Manvik didn't so much as flinch.
"Right, because wealth magically erases history." He began walking in their direction, his voice carrying a mocking edge. "I guess when you sell your soul for wealth, it's easy to forget where you came from, isn't it?"
Karanvir's nostrils flared, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his cool. "Watch your words, Deshmukh. You're treading dangerous waters."
Manvik stopped mere inches behind Ananya, his harsh coffee eyes locked on Karanvir's. "Keep talking, and I'll make sure everyone sees through your facade. The last scandal might've been bad, but your grandfather will just love this one. Care to test me?"
