Chapter 5- Replies needed ASAP
Another name. Another thread to pull.
And possibly... another trap to walk into.....
Veer stood outside the restaurant, the phone in his hand glowing faintly in the dimming light of early evening. His fingers hovered for a moment before pressing send on the message he'd carefully typed out:
Hello Ma'am,
This is Veer Singhania.
I received your number from one of the staff members at the restaurant your father, Mr. Mahesh, owns. I had hoped to speak with him directly, but it seems he's currently unreachable.
I'm a foreign national with a strong interest in your property, and I was wondering if there's any possibility we could meet today itself-at the restaurant-for a quick discussion.
I'd greatly appreciate your time. It's quite urgent.
-Veer.
He slipped the phone into his pocket, exhaling slowly as he turned to find Zain waving at him from across the street.
"Come on, man!" Zain called. "I found the place. You're gonna like this one."
Veer followed, his thoughts still lingering on the message. A few minutes of walking brought them to a calm, tree-lined neighborhood tucked quietly behind the bustling market roads. Zain paused in front of a tall wrought-iron gate and turned to him with a proud grin.
"This is it," he announced.
But Veer had already stopped mid-step, frozen in place.
His eyes scanned the surroundings-the curved bend in the street, the cluster of bougainvillea overhanging from a stone wall, the faint creaking sound of a swing swaying in the nearby park-and something stirred inside him. A strange chill ran down his spine.
This place... he knew this place.
Twenty Years Ago
INDIA 2005
A sun-drenched afternoon.
A little boy, barely 8 years old, ran barefoot through the green park ahead, his laughter echoing through the trees like windchimes in a summer breeze. His shirt was half-untucked, cheeks flushed with joy. The swing creaked behind him, forgotten, as he chased a paper plane that his mother had folded for him.
She sat on the wooden bench, her face hidden by a wide sunhat, but her presence radiated comfort. "Veer beta, careful!" she called out gently.
The boy turned, flashing the brightest smile.
"I caught it, Mumma!"
He was a different child then-wide-eyed, carefree, bathed in innocence.
Back to the Present
Veer blinked rapidly, as if trying to push the memory away before it consumed him entirely.
"You okay?" Zain asked, noting the sudden shift in his friend's demeanor.
Veer's voice was quieter than usual. "How did you find this place?"
Zain shrugged. "Well, I know how picky you are about where you live. So I figured-why not pick a neighborhood that's close to the restaurant, close to the city, and still has some peace and quiet. Found a spacious bungalow. Good sunlight, good ventilation, lots of space, and... well, because-" he muttered the next part under his breath, "rich brats like you can't survive without your mansions."
Veer narrowed his eyes, lips curving into a half-smile. "What was that? Repeat the last bit."
Zain looked away, chuckling nervously. "I said what I said earlier... nothing else."
"No, no. You said something else. Come back," Veer insisted, teasing but sharp.
Zain threw up his hands. "Alright, fine! I just meant that it's hard finding anything that fits your... expectations. This was the only decent place available nearby that wasn't falling apart or the size of a matchbox. And it was hard to get, alright? But I got it. It's clean, huge, and empty. And-before you ask-I've already paid the rent and got the keys."
Veer stopped in his tracks. "You did what?"
Zain hesitated. "I mean... I didn't think you'd say no. You usually let me handle the basic stuff like lodging, cars, hotels-"
"That's not the point," Veer said, his voice tightening. "You should've asked."
"I'm sorry," Zain said, eyes dropping with guilt. "I didn't mean to cross the line. I just... wanted to help."
Veer looked at him for a moment, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"No, it's okay. I'm just a little worked up with everything going on. This restaurant deal, the land-it's all been... chaotic. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
Without waiting for a reply, he walked through the creaking gate and stepped inside the bungalow.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he had to admit-it was impressive.
Tall ceilings with vintage beams, spacious rooms with sunlit windows, marble flooring that echoed lightly under his shoes. There was an elegance to it, a forgotten charm like an old photograph tucked away in a dusty drawer.
Zain followed behind with a proud look. "Good, right?"
Veer nodded slowly. "Yeah... you did well."
"Thought so," Zain grinned. "But no, I didn't rent the entire house. Just two bedrooms and the living room. The rest of the house is locked-owner's orders."
Veer looked around again. "Odd. Why is there no one else here? No tenants, no caretaker?"
Zain scratched his head. "Apparently, the house just came back on the market after sitting empty for... fifteen years. The landlord never used it. But don't worry, they had it cleaned top to bottom before handing it over."
Veer's eyes paused on a staircase leading up to the second floor-where dust still clung faintly to the edges of the railings.
"Fifteen years..." he whispered under his breath.
Zain didn't hear him.
Veer pulled out his phone again and checked it. Still no reply from the owner's daughter.
He let out a quiet breath. "Anyway. I messaged her. Let's see if she agrees to meet."
The KN Royale - Head Manager's Office
Late Afternoon
The soft hum of the ceiling fan did little to drown out the tension simmering in the air. Sunlight filtered in through the tall windows, casting a golden glow on the polished desk where a brass nameplate read:
Anvika Roy - General Manager
Anvika stood by the window, the mobile phone pressed tightly to her ear. Her eyes were fixed on the city skyline, but her mind was anchored deep in frustration.
"Yes, sir," she said, her tone still laced with forced politeness, "it's truly great that we were able to seal the deal with your company. I'm sure you'll agree we paid a more than fair amount for the ingredients-in full, and in advance."
She paused, tapping her fingers on the windowsill. "Our guest is arriving tomorrow morning, and the restaurant needs those items today. As discussed."
The voice on the other end-dry, dismissive-responded with a slow drawl.
"Of course, madam, I remember. But... we may have hit a small snag. The staff here is a little short today. Not enough hands to handle the delivery. Might be easier if you just... send someone over to collect the boxes."
Anvika's jaw tightened. She turned away from the window, pacing slowly now, heels clicking against the wooden floor.
"Excuse me?" she asked, a hint of disbelief slipping through her mask of calm. "Are you saying we need to pick up the supplies ourselves? After paying you more than any of our regular vendors?"
A chuckle. Low. Slimy.
"Well, yes... It's just that no one anticipated this shortage. Not really my fault, is it? Perhaps if... another small payment was made-something extra-we could try and make arrangements."
There was a beat of silence.
Anvika's eyes narrowed, her fingers curling around the edge of the desk.
"Oh," she said softly. Dangerously. "So now it's extra money you're after? For failing to deliver what you already took full payment for?"
"Well, I wouldn't put it that way-"
"I would," she snapped, the facade shattering. Her voice rose, sharp and cold. "I placed that order two weeks ago. Not two days. Not two hours. Two weeks, sir. I followed every protocol, paid every penny you demanded, and made every allowance you asked for."
She slammed her hand against the desk, rattling the stapler and a stack of files.
"And now, at the very last moment, with VIP guests arriving in less than 24 hours, you're asking for more money?! Are you completely out of your mind?!"
A pause.
"Now, listen-"
"No, you listen," she barked. "You're not just playing with hotel logistics anymore-you're gambling with our reputation. This isn't some local event, this is KN Royale Hotel! If those ingredients don't arrive by sundown, I swear, I'll drag your name through every hospitality board in this city. And after that, I'll sue."
The silence on the other end was longer now. She didn't care.
With a bitter exhale, she stabbed the red button on her screen and tossed the phone onto her desk. It landed with a thud that echoed like a gavel in a courtroom.
Then, finally, she let herself exhale properly.
Her fingers trembled. Her temples throbbed. And her composure-usually wrapped tight like a five-star hotel's bed linen-had just unraveled in seconds.
She walked over to the wall, leaned against it... and promptly banged her head gently against it. Once. Twice.
"God. Ohhhh shit... What the hell did I just do?"
She kept her forehead pressed to the wall, as if somehow the cool surface could pull her back in time or at least erase the last five minutes of her existence.
Just then, a soft shuffle of feet behind her made her freeze.
"You saw that, didn't you?" she mumbled without turning around.
A hesitant voice followed. "I did. Every... uh, colorful second of it."
She turned slowly to find Saurav-the youngest in the management team, standing frozen in the doorway, holding a clipboard awkwardly against his chest like it might protect him. His tie was slightly crooked, his hair tousled, and his big brown eyes looked both stunned and slightly amused.
Anvika narrowed her eyes. "And? Your expert opinion?"
"Well," Saurav replied carefully, "if cursing out a food supplier was a national sport, you'd have just won gold."
She groaned again and slumped into her chair, clutching her head. "Oh my god, I'm dead. Finished. I just killed our last hope of getting those ingredients. And guess who's going to get crucified tomorrow morning when the guest arrives and there's no food?"
She raised a hand dramatically.
"This idiot. Me. Not you. Not him. Me."
Saurav stepped forward cautiously, like someone approaching a sleeping lion. "Okay. Let's not panic. We still have time, right? Maybe... the supplier will cool down and-"
"He won't," Anvika cut in. "He's a greedy, manipulative scumbag who'll use this to either demand more money or ghost us completely."
Saurav winced. "Okay... then maybe we'll find a plan B."
She looked at him, exasperated. "Plan B? Saurav, there is no plan B! This hotel runs on planning A through Z, and I just used up all of them!"
Saurav gave her a lopsided grin. "Well then, we improvise. Just breathe, okay? Deep breath in..."
She glared.
"...and deep breath out."
Reluctantly, she followed his lead. Once. Twice. Her hands stopped shaking.
"There," he said gently. "That's better. See? You're still alive."
"Barely," she muttered.
Then her voice dropped. "And what if he finds out?"
Saurav raised a brow. "He... as in?"
She gave him a tired, sarcastic smile. "Our all-knowing, all-controlling department overlord. The 'Main Sir'."
Just as she finished the sentence, the universe decided to have a laugh at her expense.
The office door opened without so much as a knock, and in walked the very man they had been dreading-Mr. Verma, the regional supervisor. Tall, stern-faced, with slicked-back hair and an expression that always made people stand up straighter.
Anvika straightened in her seat like a guilty schoolgirl.
"Is everything in order?" he asked briskly, scanning the room. "I'm compiling the end-of-day report for the higher-ups. And by the higher-ups, I mean Mr Rathore. OUR BOSS.
You're aware the guest arrives first thing tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, sir," Anvika replied quickly, forcing a composed smile. "Preparations are... in motion. All under control."
Saurav nodded, stepping in like a loyal soldier. "Yes, sir. Everything has been aligned with the schedule. Kitchen staff's been briefed, guest suite checked, and itinerary printed."
Mr. Verma gave them both a piercing look, as if trying to sniff out the lie hanging in the air.
"Good. Don't mess this up," he muttered. Then, just before turning to leave, he looked back at Anvika.
"You'll be the one receiving the guest tomorrow morning. Be at the front lobby by 9 a.m. sharp. That's not optional."
"Yes, sir," she said, the forced smile frozen on her face. "Absolutely."
The door shut behind him.
Anvika slumped back into her chair like the life had been sucked out of her. She let her head fall against the high backrest, eyes closed.
"Do you think they'll bury me or just hang me above the reception desk as a warning?"
Saurav chuckled and leaned casually against her desk. "Too expensive to hang you. They'll probably just deduct your salary and blame you for global inflation."
That got a weak laugh out of her.
"Okay," he said, looking at the clock. "We have several hours before this turns into a full disaster. So here's what you're going to do."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're giving the orders now?"
"I'm suggesting, oh majestic Manager," he said, with mock reverence. "Go get some air. Breathe. Coffee, tea, scream into a pillow-I don't care. Just come back refreshed. We'll find a solution."
She opened her mouth to protest, but her phone buzzed.
A message.
Her brows furrowed. Then her eyes widened slightly.
"It's from someone who wants to meet about the restaurant," she said. "My dad must've passed my number to him before skipping town again."
"Let me guess," Saurav grinned, "he gave them your number and said you handle everything."
"Like always," Anvika muttered, already typing a reply.
Sure. Let's meet.
I don't have much time, so let's make it quick.
I'll be at the restaurant in 15 minutes.
She stood up, straightened her shirt, and grabbed her phone and bag.
"I'm going out. Keep your ears open, don't let anyone burn the place down, and if someone asks where I am-tell them I'm on a call with the Food and Beverage team."
"Lying for you already," Saurav said with a mock salute. "Truly, your training is complete."
She rolled her eyes and started toward the door.
"Oh, and Saurav?"
"Yes?"
"Stop calling me 'Di.' We're colleagues, not cousins. And I'm only one year older than you."
He grinned. "Right. Sorry, Manager Ma'am."
She shot him a playful glare before disappearing out the door.
As the glass swung shut behind her, Saurav whispered to himself with a smile, "She's going to destroy that meeting too, isn't she?"
He straightened, walked back to his desk, and cracked his knuckles.
Time to keep the hotel standing.
AT SHARMA SIR'S OFFICE
Pari sat across from Sharma Sir, arms crossed, the deal freshly sealed and the weariness of the day weighing heavy on her features.
"The deal's done. I'm really done for today," she said, rising from the chair. "And just so you know-you owe me for my plane ticket. I always book business class."
Sharma smirked, leaning back. "Fine. I'll reimburse you. And you can enjoy the rest while you can-because soon enough, you'll be handling what I like to call missions."
She turned to leave, heels clicking against the floor, but paused when Sharma's voice followed her.
"Where are you going? Back to the hotel? You can't."
Pari blinked slowly, deadpan. "Obviously not. I'll find a new one," she muttered, tone laced with unbothered sarcasm.
"No need," Sharma replied, handing her a folded slip of paper. "Already handled. It's a good place, trust me."
She opened the paper. Her eyes scanned the address.
Her reaction was immediate.
"Ohhh no. No, no, no, no-this is not happening. I'm not going there. Find me something else. Now."
Sharma stood. "Pari, look-this isn't just a place. It's your place. That house belongs to you. But that's not the point. It's close to the agency, secure, and-most importantly-you won't have to pay rent."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "That doesn't count. You seem to forget-I'm a Chaebol."
"I know," Sharma sighed. "Still... please, Pari. I request you."
A beat passed. She clenched her jaw.
"Give me the keys. Now."
A triumphant smile spread across Sharma's face as he handed them over, clearly proud of himself.
But the smile faded a second later.
He had forgotten something.
Something very, very important.