Chương 12: 12 – A Conversation
Neither Hamir nor Qaya understood President Goldstein's thoughts to their fullest extent. Both were too shocked to be able to think rationally immediately, so after chatting about other things for a short time (more like the President cajoling and coaxing the two young people halfway across the world and trying to calm them down), they bid farewell.
After the video call ended, Hamir and Qaya looked at each other in silence for a long time.
"I'm sorry," Qaya said finally, her eyes downcast.
Hamir frowned. "You have nothing to apologise for," he said in a gentle yet firm voice that brooked no argument. "Papa probably intends well, but he threw this upon us suddenly, so it is natural that both of us are taken aback."
Qaya bit her lip. "The President's health…" she murmured.
Hamir sighed. "I hope to heavens that he is merely exaggerating to get us to agree to his plans," he muttered. "I checked all his reports just a few days ago – he was recovering pretty well. As long as we can ensure that he isn't too anxious and his diet is proper and he takes his medicines on time – he should be back to normal soon enough. For his age, his heart is pretty healthy, in my professional opinion, and his recent heart attack was primarily caused by stress and overwork," he explained with a sigh. His slim fingers took off the gold-rimmed glasses from his face, and he rubbed his eyes wearily. "It is to keep him from collapsing like this again that I need to help him with his work," he confessed.
Qaya felt an ache in her heart – it was just that she didn't know yet whether her heart ached for the President or for Hamir.
"Don't worry," she said softly, reaching out to pat the man's free hand that was clenched into a fist, perhaps involuntarily. "I will help you with work, at every step, until you are fully ready and don't need me anymore," she promised.
Hamir blinked. And then a slow smile bloomed on his face.
"Perhaps this is exactly what Papa wants," he said, a gleam in his gold-green eyes. "There is no better successor for him than you, and I think he may have been secretly planning to somehow con you into joining our family for quite some time now. He doesn't really want you to help me take over his mantle – he wants me to bring you into our family so that YOU can take up his mantle. He's been training you for this all these years, perhaps…"
Qaya chuckled. "That's too far fetched," she said. "I was barely more than a beggaring orphan when he found me."
"But your talent and brilliance were known soon enough," Hamir pointed out. "Don't forget, I've been listening to stories about Papa's protégé all these years. I know better than you how much Papa values you!"
Qaya could only shake her head. It would be quite some time later that she would understand that Hamir had actually hit upon the truth about his father's intentions at this time.
"Do you think you Goldstein's need to even con someone to join your family?" she asked instead, her voice light and teasing. "You merely need to give out your name and hold out your hand, and you will have more people running to be your spouse than the hairs on your head."
She wasn't wrong, she knew. The Goldsteins were one of the richest families in the world, and even though the President had ensured that none of his three children were in the limelight to protect them from being targeted by people with malicious intentions, it was universally known that President Goldstein had three children – two sons and one daughter, and all of them were of marriageable age.
If photos of Hamir and his two step siblings were somehow publicly released…
Qaya shuddered. There really would be a long line of people wanting to court them.
Hamir raised an eyebrow, but didn't deny her words. "Well, that's exactly why Papa has spent a lot of effort all these years to keep us away from the spotlight," he said. He smiled wryly. "Even my ex-fiancée didn't know that I was from this Goldstein family," he told her. "Papa met her several times, but he always disguised himself. She knew that we were well off, but she didn't know how much."
Qaya shook her head, amused. Well off would be the understatement of the millennium when used in context of the Goldstein family. They had more money than the entire economies of several countries put together.
"Didn't you plan to tell her your true identity?" she asked curiously.
Hamir sighed. "I intended to," he said. "But we broke up before I could. She didn't think I was classy enough for her."
Qaya stared at him in disbelief.
Hamir found her expression to be rather funny, and for once, thinking of his previous fiancée Marie didn't make him feel upset or gloomy. He smiled. "It's true," he said airily. "She used to tell me at least twice a week to change my plebian habits." He shrugged. "Papa brought us up differently from the traditional rich families," he said. "And he never forced us to mindlessly follow anything that we didn't want to. I didn't have to do things that I wasn't interested in just to pander to someone else's sense of vanity or elegance, and neither did my siblings. Papa made sure of that, and I am very grateful to him for this. I could study what I loved and choose the career that I wanted…" He sighed again. His career as a cardiologist was over now, wasn't it? Even if Papa had managed to give them the freedom to do what they wanted all these years…
Looking at the melancholy that crept over Hamir's handsome visage, Qaya had a strange feeling herself, as if something was pressing down on her chest, making it difficult for her to breathe.
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