Royal Vs Rebel (Royal #2: Book 1)

9

-• a bet •-

Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan

My jaw works painfully tight. Ignoring the urge to strangle this woman in a broad daylight, I turn and stick my foot between her steps. She trips, having to hold the shelf to keep herself upright. Speechless, she looks at me in surprise. "Are you a child?"

Furious at the blatant disrespect, I corner the woman against the nearest shelf. She stands straight, heels screeching on the marbled floor and puts her hands on my chest, struggling to keep me out of her space. "Watch that mouth, Sara. I swear to God I'd shove something in there so you never speak in that irritably shrill voice of yours." My hand clamps around the shelf board, eyes narrowed down on the woman.

She holds my gaze defiantly.

"Have you ever heard yourself speak? Sounds like a wolf went rampant." She scoffs.

I swallow the need to shut that mouth up by sticking the nearest bottle of moisturizer in it.

"Back off. I cannot afford to have a scandal with you."

I move back swiftly, dusting off my suit in the places she touched. "The horror of it is not lost on me." My gaze slinks across the store. I notice Agastya two shelves away and look back down at the woman, pinching the sleeve of her dress between my index and thumb, leading her towards the deserted corner of the store. She follows me looking flabbergasted, her eyes snapping from where I hold her to my face in shock. Dropping her arm, I fish out my handkerchief from the pocket and wipe my fingers clean.

She stares at me stunned.

"What did you say about Icon not being in the same league as Muse?"

The absurdity of our current situation fades, replaced with an amused expression on her face. "The truth." She nods, looking at me with feigned pity. "It's better if you focus on making Icon a success than beating Muse. Muse is a global brand. You can ask ten people on the street and seven out of them will know what Muse is. But Icon? Nobody knows of it anymore." She erases the distance between us and looks up at me with her haughty aureate eyes. I press my lips together, eyeing her with pure intentions of homicide. "Take it as an advise from your senior," the corner of her lips quirk, "Icon needs your leadership qualities, you can be competitive when you're really eligible for a competition. I'm not going anywhere." She pats the lapel of my suit sympathetically, spinning on her heels to walk away.

"What will it take for you to consider Icon as your competitor?" I ask through gritted teeth.

She sighs and looks over her shoulder. "I'm not surprised. You've always had the attributes of a toddler. Innately stubborn."

"I said watch that mouth, Sara." I growl lowly, taking a threatening step forward.

She drops her stiff shoulders, turning around to face me. "We sell four hundred thousand copies on average every month. Reach half of that target."

"Okay," I nod, empty confidence in my words. But I'd rather dunk my face in a hot boiling lava than accept defeat in front of this detestable evidence of my precarious rage. I can't stand this woman, but now that I've to face her every now and then, I'm going to make sure I stand at an higher position than her. There's no way in hell I'd let her best me in something I can effortlessly succeed in. "I'll see you next month. And you better lose that snobbish, conceited attitude of yours until then."

"Sure," she chuckles, an arrogant smirk triumphing her lips. "Bye," she waves her fingers at me.

"Go to hell." I scoff.