Chapitre 9: The Devil
The conference room was filled with chilling and suffocating air. Everyone held their breath and resembled a cocoon, afraid to make a single sound. They reluctantly glanced at the devil whose face was as serious and terrifying as hell.
" That's all. You may go. " Arnav concluded, loosening his tie a little.
There was as minimum noise as possible, as the shareholders, executives and Hods exited the meeting, wanting to get away from the devil. Arnav himself was feeling tired. It had been one hell of a meeting, having come to an end after 6 hours. He was sleepy and his head was spinning. He needed a break.
As soon he returned to his office, his assistant Geroge spoke up, " Boss, can I get you something? Anything to ease the headache? "
" Just a decaf. " Arnav replied, throwing his head back on the chair comforter and closing his eyes.
" And cancel the next meeting scheduled, tell them I am temporarily unavailable. "
" Yes boss. "
Just then Annie entered the room. Seeing Arnav's face, she internally debated whether to give him the news or not. It didn't mater, either way he would explode.
" Sir? " she asked timidly.
" Hmm. "
" Miss Sofya Khemka called earlier -- "
Arnav's eyes snapped open. " What did she want? "
" Nothing. " Annie stuttered. " She had tried to call you many times while you were in meeting, but the call couldn't go through. So she called me to tell you to call her back as soon as possible. It's urgent she said. "
Arnav picked up his phone. He had forgotten it was still in airplane mode. Changing it to normal, he dialled Sofya's number. Looking up, he saw Annie still standing there.
" Is that all? "
" Yes sir. " With that she scrambled out of the room.
" Arnav, I need to meet you. " Sofya's frantic voice sounded through the phone. She had picked up on the first ring. He could tell she was on the way, judging by the commotion of the traffic & the car honking that he could hear through the phone.
" I'm in my office. I need to tell you something. "
" Same here. I'll be there in 20. Don't wait up on me. " Arnav rolled his eyes.
With at least 20 minutes to spare, he could still have a lie down. Closing his eyes, he went back to his usual position, trying to relax himself a little.
Sofya entered the grand building. She had never been inside before, she didn't have a reason to. George was waiting for her at the front gate. Arnav had instructed him to bring her to his office straight away.
" Miss Khemka, this way. "
" Thank you! "
Passing the beautiful lounge and into the private elevator, Sofya suddenly felt at unease, her mind filled with thoughts. She knew what she was going to say was just so wrong, but she didn't have any other way. How would he react to it?
Mentally preparing herself, she walked after George as soon as the lift stopped. He walked her a short way through the foyer to a grey door. Facing her, he lowered his voice " Mr. Raizada's waiting for you. "
Taking in a deep breath, she knocked on the door.
No answer.
Sofya knocked again.
Still no answer.
She looked around. There was no one there and George was already gone. Preparing herself to face the devil, she stepped inside.
His office was way too big for just one man. In front of the floor to ceiling windows, there's a huge modern dark wood desk that six people can comfortably eat around. It matches the coffee table by the couch. Everything else is creamy white - ceilings, floors and walls, except on the wall by the door, where a mosaic of small paintings hang, twenty four of them arranged in a square. They are exquisite- arranged in a mundane, forgotten objects painted in such precise detail, they look like photographs. Displayed together, they looked breathtaking.
Behind the table, Arnav was seated in a large cushioned chair, his head resting on the comforter, eyes closed. He looked visibly tired.
Sofya walked discreetly up to him, making no noise. Thank God, she had chosen to wear sports shoes instead of heels. She stopped just at a short distance from the man. It was almost sunset, the last rays falling up on his face. She had to admit, even sleeping, he looked like a Greek God having his own demeanor. His usually perfect gelled hair was unkept, falling on his face. She raised her hand, pushing back his hair, her skin making contact with his soft skin.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone