Obstructed Heart [Editing]

Chapter 3

KETU

Glancing at my wrist watch, I realized that I had been sitting in the conference room for the past half an hour. I had the company of one of my managers who ran my inner-city restaurant.

Rishabh. The treacherous bastard who would have backstabbed me if not spied by my men. After receiving the proof of his betrayal yesterday, I called him to present the progress.
He was outlining the strategies for marketing and publicity, dressed in a new beige Raymond suit, which he must have bought with the money he got from my rivals.

Stifling my desire to pound his head on the table, I dragged my chair a little backwards and reclined on it. "What the fuck!"

This man had been testing my patience for the last few days.

Didn't anyone teach him the importance of loyalty?

"Sorry! Did you just say...?" He stopped mid sentence and scowled furrowing his eyebrows. When I looked at him smirking with contempt, his hands clenched into fists. Slamming his fist on the table, he howled, "May I know the reason behind such insult? This is how you reward your employees. Great."

Leering at his expensive attire, I mocked him, "Sure you can. But first answer me. Who are you working for, Rishabh?"

"I, what? For you. Sir." He said it in a confident manner gritting his teeth.

Yawning, I raised my hands above my head and pulled them in a cross behind my neck, while stretching my legs on the table separating us. Muffling the rage consuming my insides like a fire would do to a forest, I sneered, "THIS. IS. the last time I am asking you politely."

I could see the virtual wall of his bravery collapsing when his irises dilated in apprehension.

"I-I... S-sir...," clearing his throat, he made an irritating guttural sound before continuing in his perturbed voice, "Sir, you hired me three weeks ago. Since then I am working for you."

The word 'Sir' came out of his mouth in respect. And that respect came out of fear. That was what I wanted to see.

I stood upright, unlatched my wristwatch and kept it carefully on the table. My attendant in the room grasped it cautiously and placed it on the table in the opposite corner of the room.

Folding and subsequently pulling the sleeves of my shirt above my elbows I scowled with gritted teeth, "For how much did you sell my new outlet's papers?"

"W-what? N-no no, I would never do any such thing."

I slammed my fist aggressively on to the table top and growled, "Stop your fucking lies, you bloody snake."

He flinched and I sensed the evident fear dancing in the black orbs of his eyes. In spite of his attempting to hide his vulnerability, his hands trembled as he attempted standing on his fragile and shaking limbs, confidently.

That was my cue. Stepping forward, I grabbed both his shoulders. He twitched.

I sniggered, "Do you know how the last traitor was rewarded?"

He stood petrified and terrified. His body quivered and sweat beads formed on his forehead, regardless of his futile effort of displaying a brave demeanor.