Chapter Seventeen

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"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit."

~Albert Schweitzer

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As he paced from one end of his office to another, Mr Malhotra narrowed his eyes at the plan his sharp brain was coming up with, analyzing and theorizing every point, thinking of all the possible consequences of it and finally sighing as he rubbed his forehead, confused.

He had reached the conclusion that his son needed someone around him who would give him the illusion of having someone on his side - someone who would have nothing to gain as that would serve to reassure Manik to let his guards down, someone who would push him to accept the reality he would create for his son.

'But, who?' He asked himself, trying to go through the list of every possible person who could be that someone...

Anyone who knew of the existence of the Murthy girl was ruled out and he would be caught dead before letting any of the Fab 5 - the bunch of ungrateful brats - around his son, handing any of them - no matter how he could buy their loyalty with money - such delicate task was something he could not even consider even if that was the only way. Then who? For a millisecond he regretted agreeing with Nyonika for keeping the Murthy girl away from Manik, for it was becoming such a nuisance to keep his son sane without her, but now he himself was way too involved in the game to stop or give up.

And anyway, he had seen the girl - from a distance, of course - and nowhere was she worthy of his son. He would never understand the hold she had on his son as she was neither extraordinarily beautiful nor had a sharp brain that made her stand out from the crowd. Just a five-foot something frail-looking girl with a pale face and trembling hands. He had been disappointed, to say the least, after all, he had been expecting a Goddess after seeing his son whisper her name as if he was praying...

But she was no Goddess, just a delicate girl with a frail heart who would never be able to handle the passion, the anger, and the darkness his son had in him.

'Pity, such a pity...' Mr Malhotra even then had whispered, had shaken his head before leaving the court premises.

And now when he stood in his office, in London - miles away from the girl - a week and a half away from the day when had seen her, he couldn't help but feel irritated as he couldn't figure out why she affected his son so much, because as long as she had that power over Manik, he would never be able to control his son's actions nor make sure he becomes an heir worthy of Malhotra's empire...

No matter what the price, she had to go away and free Manik to live his life the way he - his father - had always planned it for him.

'But for all of that to happen, a stage has to be set for the final battle that is about to come, and for that, Manik needs an ally, a worthy one,' Mr Malhotra thought as he narrowed his eyes in concentration.

The ally he needed to find his son had to be someone to whom Manik would trust but at the same time, someone whom he would letter use to reach to Manik's brain to project the reality as an illusion and the illusion as his reality...

As Mr Malhotra came to stand in front of the French window of his office, he gazed at the sight outside. As always, the beauty of the city of London during the season of Christmas left him breathless; the light shining in the darkness and the white snow made the nights appear not so quiet and cold anymore.

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