Anant Bajpai. His name alone sent waves through the business world. He was the one and only heir of Bajpai Industries. Together, he and his father owned countless factories and companies in America, the United Kingdom, and India. Anant was a tall, well-built, and very handsome man with a passion for women. He took as much pride in his appearance as he did in his work. His collection of designer suits was the envy of the town. anant was the reigning king of New York City, where he liked to spend the majority of his time even though he had pent houses and mansions in L.A., Chicago, London, Mumbai, and more.
Anant sat back and watched his best friend, Hiten, try to flirt with a pretty little blonde. anant and Hiten decided to hit one of New York's premiere night clubs. Anant felt the eyes of every woman in the club on him, but he didn't care. He was much too amused by Hiten's futile attempts to woo any woman who showed even a bit of interest in him.
"Any luck?" anant called out to Hiten, who was now heading his way.
Hiten plopped down on the bar stool next to Anant. "Nope. None. The ladies have no idea what they're missing." Replied Hiten with a smirk.
A sultry woman in her early twenties began walking towards Anant and Hiten. Her purple sequin dress hugged her curves perfectly. She wobbled slightly in her six-inch heels as she closed the distance between herself and the bar.
"Hey there." She eyed Anant sensually.
Anant smirked. "Hey there yourself."
The woman ordered a tequila from the bar. She tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear and turned her attention to Anant. "Veronica," was all she said.
"I'm Anant." anant replied.
"And I'm Hiten." Hiten interjected. Veronica glanced in his direction before turning back to Anant.
"Uh...you know, Anant here is quite the dancer." Hiten tried to talk to her again.
"Dance with me?" It wasn't much of a question. Veronica grabbed Anant's arm and dragged him out to the dance floor.
She slithered her body up against his and placed his hands on her waist. She began moving to the rhythm of the music. Anant's hands travelled up and down her back. Veronica turned around and pushed her back against Anant's chest. He placed his hands back on her waist and moved with her. Anant felt his phone vibrate in his shirt pocket. He took one hand off of Veronica's waist and pulled out his phone.
"I have to take this." He half yelled into her ear before turning away towards the bar.
"Hello?" He shouted into the phone. The club was so loud. He doubted the person on the other side could hear him over the music.
"Sir, Mr. Bajpai would like to speak to you personally?" It was his father's secretary.
Anant stepped outside so he could converse with his father in peace. He braced himself. Whenever his father wanted to personally speak to him, it usually meant Anant was about to receive some bad news.
"Anant, I need you in India right now." His father demanded. He didn't even asked how he was or exchange any other pleasantries. He just went straight to the point like always.
"India? Why?" Asked Anant. He really wanted to know.
"I need you here now. I expect you to land in Mumbai by tomorrow. Once you're here, I'll give you further information." With that, Mr. Om Bajpai hung up. 5
Anant sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was leave New York and go to India. What the hell was waiting for him in India anyways?
Navya Mishra was a shy, traditional Indian girl. Even though she was raised in a palace, she was brought up with traditional values. She was very obedient and never questioned her mother or her absentee father. She knew her father worked hard to create his business empire, which is why he spends most of his time in Mumbai or Delhi rather than at home with his family.
Navya diligently prepared breakfast. Sure, there were servants, but she preferred to make breakfast herself. Navya was an excellent cook. She enjoyed cooking. Her mother told her the one way to win a man's heart was through his stomach, so she just had to learn how to cook well. She was finishing up making the last of the parathas when her younger sister, Payal, came bursting into the kitchen.
"Didi! Look at this!" she was holding up a fashion magazine.
Navya glanced at the picture Payal held in front of her. She saw a glamorous model wearing a short red dress. The dress was much too short and the neckline was cut a little too low. Navya noticed the model's confidence and a hint of jealousy rose inside of her. She knew she could never dress like that.
"Why are you reading these types of magazines? You know we can't dress like this."Navya said, moving the magazine aside as she finished preparing breakfast.
"A girl can dream, can't she?" beamed Payal. Payal was always an optimist. She was four years younger than navya, but believed she was much older and all grown up.
"Take these to the table." Said Navya, handing Payal plates full of food.
Navya adjusted her braid and put on the veil she had removed while she was cooking. She brought out the rest of the food and called everyone down. She lived in a joint family, so most of her uncles and aunts and a plethora of cousins lived with her. She enjoyed being part of a large family. She couldn't wrap her mind around how children actually left their parents behind to live on their own. She never wanted to leave her family, but she knew one day she would have to get married and leave. Every girl had to get married one day.
Navya's younger cousins sauntered down the grand staircase and surrounded the table. Her aunts and uncles leisurely followed. None of her cousins were her age. Most were much younger than she was. A few of them were married with families of their own.
"Mmm smells good." Commented one of her uncles.
Navya smiled and began to serve her family members. Her mother made her way to her seat. Payal served her. Navya's mother looked up at her, approving of her job well done.
"Payal, you must learn to cook like your sister." She said.
"Of course, but just wait and watch Ma. I'll be better than Didi," replied Payal. She made a face at Navya. Navya smiled back at her.
Navya glanced out the window and noticed a black Mercedes parked outside. She studied it for a moment and then quickly made her way towards the front door. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. She opened the door to see her father with a fist in the air.
"You always get to the door before I even knock!" her father said.
Navya smiled. She always knew when her father came home even when he tried to surprise her. She bent down and touched her father's feet.
"Be happy." He gave her his blessing and enveloped her in a hug as he entered the house.
"Ma!" she called to her mother. navya's mother walked around the corner and shyly smiled as she saw navya's father.
"Baba!" Payal came running around the corner. She also bent down to touch her father's feet before giving him a hug.
They loved when their father came home. The house always seemed brighter, happier when he was home. navya noticed that her father wasn't as happy as he usually was when he came home. He kept glancing over at her as the rest of the family members tried to greet him and welcome him home.
"Navya," he finally said, "I need to discuss something with you."
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