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CHAPTER - 6

THE INTERVIEW.

Rajveer ~

This was another routine event for me, a chance to polish my public image and keep the world focused on the cleaner parts of my empire.

The speech was going well. People were soaking my words all in, impressed by the numbers, the vision, the promises.

But then I saw her.

Aadya Sharma.

She was not supposed to be here.

There she was, sitting in the middle row, her face partially hidden behind a notebook. 

This was not her usual place. She was a prime-time reporter who conducted hard-hitting exposés, investigations and headlines that shook the powerful. 

Finance? Business? This was not what she usually did.

 I met her gaze briefly, long enough to notice the fire in her eyes which carried the same fire I remembered from before. She glared at me, daring me to flinch.

I did not.

Instead, I kept addressing the audience. But inside, questions swirled. What game was she trying to play?

As I wrapped up the speech, applause filled the room, and I stepped away from the podium. 

My team had already ensured that everything was in place, guiding me toward the makeshift studio where the interview was scheduled to take place.

"Who is doing the interview?" I asked Aadesh as we walked.

"Aadya Sharma," he replied. "Sarthak called in sick this morning, and her editor sent her instead."

I nodded, of course he sent her.

"She's good," Aadesh added, glancing at me. "Sharp. Direct."

"I know," I replied, my tone clipped.

I had not seen her work before but the binder on her still resting on my desk was thorough about her work.

She asked difficult questions to difficult people. And now, she was going to be sitting across from me, ready to fire, ready to take out her personal frustration on me.

That, I had expected.

If she thought she could intimidate me, she was mistaken.

As I entered the studio, she was already seated, flipping through her notes. She looked up briefly when I walked in, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Ms. Sharma." I said.

"Mr. Ranawat." she replied, her voice steady.

I took my seat across from her, leaning back just enough to tell her that none of her questions were going surprise me without appearing dismissive. She did not flinch, did not look away.

This was going to be interesting.

The cameras were ready, the crew moved around in silence, and she sat across from me with a  calculating expression. 

Shall we begin?" she asked, her voice steady but her tone professional.

"Ready when you are, Miss Sharma." I replied with a nod.

She glanced down at her notes briefly, then looked directly at me.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Aadya began, her voice steady and authoritative. "Welcome to our special live broadcast. Today, we have with us Mr. Rajveer Pratap Ranawat, one of the most celebrated businessmen in the country of the decade. Thank you for joining us, Mr. Ranawat."

"Thank you for having me, Miss Sharma." I replied with a polite nod.

"Let's dive straight into it. Mr. Ranawat, your company has seen exponential growth in the past decade. While many admire your success, others have raised questions about the methods behind it. How do you respond to those who say your growth is too good to be true?"

I met her gaze directly. "Growth is not magic, Ms. Sharma. Growth is a combination of vision, hard work and taking calculated risks. We have invested in innovation and in the people directly and indirectly connected to us and the results speak for themselves. Success always attracts speculation, but mere speculation is not required my justification."

She nodded slightly, her expression neutral but her eyes probing. "Innovation and hard work are commendable, Mr. Ranawat, but some critics have pointed out that your company's rapid expansion hasn't always adhered to ethical practices. Can you confidently say that every aspect of your business complies with the highest standards of checks and balances?"

My lips curved into a faint smile, "Absolutely. Ethics are the backbone of any enduring business and we continuously strive to meet the highest standards. If there are concerns, we address them transparently."

I have had extensive training to manipulate my words and my facts , little dove. 

Her next question came swiftly. "You speak of transparency, but let's talk about the environmental impact of some of your major projects. Many activists have accused your company of prioritising profit over sustainability. Would you like to respond to those allegations?"

"Sustainability is not just a theory for us at Ranawat Holdings Corporation,  it is the responsibility of every person associated with us," I replied, my tone firm. "We have implemented several green initiatives in our projects and are committed to reducing our carbon footprint. Development and sustainability can co-exist, and we are working to ensure they do."

She was not letting up, refusing to give up on trying to hide her hatred towards me.  Her professionalism was razor-sharp, her questions precise.

"There have also been rumours," she said, her voice steady, "about your alleged connections with political figures influencing your business decisions. What's your take on that?"

I did not miss a beat. "Rumours are a part of public life, Ms. Sharma. My achievements are a result of strategy and execution, not favours or influences. My company does not need shortcuts. Our track record speaks louder than any speculation."

Her lips curved slightly, not quite a smile but rather a taunt.

The questions kept coming, and she kept asking them in a manner to revoke a reaction out of me.

Toward the end, she leaned forward slightly, her tone shifting just a bit. "Aaj ka akhri sawaal Mr. Ranawat. Vaise toh aapke kaafi multidimensional businesses hain par voh jo log aaj-kal aapke underworld mein hone ki baat kar rahe hain, usme kahan tak sacchayi hai?"

(TRANSLATION - Today's last question, Mr. Ranawat. While you have quite a few multidimensional businesses, what's the truth behind the rumors about your involvement in the underworld?)

Her eyes twinkled with a twisted satisfaction and burnt in hatred at the same time, as if she had been holding herself back from asking this all this while.

All I could do was smirk at her words, knowing completely that she was trying to rattle me.

I leaned forward towards her a little, mirroring her mechanism, "Logon ka kya hai Miss Sharma, kal agar log kehna shuru kar dein ki aap meri hone waali biwi hain, toh kya aap uss baat ko bhi sach maan lengi? Vaise, aap kaafi khubsurat hain Reporter Sahiba."

(TRANSLATION - People are unpredictable, Miss Sharma. If tomorrow they start saying that you are going to be my wife, would you believe that too? By the way, you are quite beautiful, Reporter Sahiba.)

Her eyes flickered with surprise at my words. Her posture stiffened, and her lips pressed together in a thin line. I had clearly and visibly caught her off guard.

A brief flash of annoyance passed over her face, but she was quick to  mask it with a professional smile. "Mr. Ranawat, we are here to discuss your business, not my personal life," she replied, her tone now cool and measured.

I nodded, still leaning forward slightly, "Of course, Miss Sharma. But more often than not, people make baseless assumptions and it is important to remember that not everything about those assumptions is true, don't you think?"

She didn't answer immediately, just stared at me for a moment. Finally, she continued, her voice steady once more, "I'll take your point, Mr. Ranawat. But let's return to the issue at hand. The rumours, as you call them, are still out there, and many people want answers. What would you say to those who are concerned about your alleged connections?"

I let out a soft chuckle, "I have already answered that question, Miss Sharma. But if you insist on repeating it, let me clarify once again. My success is a result of hard work and strategic planning. Nothing more, nothing less. As for the rumours, they don't deserve my time."

She knew this interview was a game to me, and I intended upon playing it well.

But I could tell she was not done, not yet.

But I knew how to handle her. I had done this many times before, with people much tougher than her.

She glanced down at her notes again, then she looked back at me, her eyes cold, almost challenging. "One more question before I let you go, Mr. Ranawat. How do you respond to those who say that your empire is built on blood money?"

From my peripheral vision, I saw someone from her team almost pull his hair in shock in frustration while the room went silent.

I could see the flicker of thrill in her eyes, but I remained unfazed. "People love to talk, Ms. Sharma," I said, "But I refuse to answer to rumours or to people who have no credibility."

She didn't respond to that, instead letting the silence settle in as she wrapped up the interview. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Ranawat," she said, her voice back to its neutral tone.

I stood up, offering a polite nod, "Thank you, Miss Sharma. This has been an interesting conversation."

The live interview ended, and the cameras stopped rolling. Aadya stood up, her face as composed as ever, but her eyes were still burning.

I followed suit, standing up from my chair. I gave her a nod, which she returned.

Just as we were about to leave the studio, the door slammed open and her editor-in-chief stormed in, his face flushed with anger.

"Aadya!" he snapped, not even glancing in my direction. "Who approved those last two questions? The ones about the underworld and the blood money? Are you out of your mind? This is not the way we handle interviews and you know it!"

She stood there, steady, looking at him without saying anything for a moment. Her gaze was calm, almost as if she had been expecting this.

Jeevan Kumar. I could wager my empire that he had barged in here for the optics. He will be rewarding Aadya later for her questions.

Journalists leech on controversies, he was no different.

"I thought it was necessary to address the real issues, sir," she said.

"Necessary?" he repeated, his voice rising. "You could've ruined everything! Do you understand the consequences of bringing up those kinds of allegations in front of a live audience and without any whiff of proof? Let alone I am hearing those so called rumours for the first time!"

Aadya remained unfazed. "I did my job. I asked the questions that matter. If people are talking about it, it's my responsibility to ask. No one else was going to do it." 

He opened his mouth to respond but stopped himself. He let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. "You better have a damn good explanation for this when we talk later, Miss Sharma."

"I had no problem with the questions she asked," I said calmly, looking at her boss. "Ms. Sharma did her job. If someone felt uncomfortable with those questions, that is on them, not her."

He looked surprised, and for a moment, I could tell he didn't know how to respond. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.

"I know what I am, and I am used to tough questions," I added with a small smile.

He seemed a little thrown off by my response, but he didn't push it further. 

As I turned to leave, I glanced at Aadya. 

She was standing there, arms crossed, looking at me with a hint of annoyance.

I could not resist. I gave her a quick smirk before walking toward the door.

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. 

I could feel the frustration in her even though she didn't say a word.

 But I did not mind. 

I was not done with her yet.

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Aadya ~

I stood there, still processing the whole situation when the devil himself smirked at me and walked out. I could feel the anger bubbling inside me, and I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my calm.

"Rakshas kahi ka!" I muttered before looking at Jeevan sir.

"Sir are you firing me?" I asked, not caring a bit at the moment.

He could and I wouldn't mind.

What I did was completely unprofessional.

But that Rakshas  carried himself like he was untouchable, like nothing could rattle him!

"No, I am not firing you Aadya but you will not pull a stunt like that ever again before letting me know first. Things like these need a little build up for TRPs and this time you gave us no warning, such an opportunity wasted. Now I'll have to ask the social media marketing team to viral this interview clips on Instagram." He sighed, leaving me utterly confused.

What was going on?

"Wait, so you are not mad at me?" I asked, my eyes widening automatically.

"Of course not! That was brilliant! Do you have any idea what this interview will do to our TRPs?" His voiced was a little pitched that usual in excitement as he laughed.

I couldn't believe him.

"So all that scolding....?" I asked but was interrupted.

"That was so that Rajveer does not feel that we were trying to set him up or something. Cannot make an enemy of such a powerful man now, can we?" He grinned and I shook my head.

This is why he is the editor-in-chief.

He then asked me to get to the office and start working on my next story, grabbing my things.

I was still seething with anger as I drove to the office.

"Kitna bada criminal hai yeh Rakshas. Itne aaraam se jhooth bol raha tha live TV pe and that fucking smirk.....ughhh! "

How did he do it? How could he sit there, acting like the world didn't know the truth about him? He had everyone eating out of his hand.

And then he had the nerve, right in the middle of the interview, to call me beautiful!!

Like he thought that would throw me off. I wasn't going to fall for his games, no matter how charming he thought he was. But damn, how easily he made his lies sound so real.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to push the images of his face out of my mind. His words echoed in my head: "People make assumptions. Not everything people say is true."

He thought he was untouchable, and maybe in some ways, he was. But I wasn't going to back down. I couldn't. His empire might be built on lies and manipulation, but I would get to the truth. I had to.

When I walked into the office, my phone immediately rang.

Maa.

I took the call and sighed, knowing perfectly well what was coming.

"Aadu, tera dimaag kharab hai kya? Kya zaroorat thi voh sab usse puchne ki TV pe, voh bhi live? Tujhe pata hai na ki tere papa bhi...." She tried to finish her sentence but I had no desire to listen.

(TRANSLATION - Aadya, is your mind okay? What was the need to ask all that on live TV? You know that your papa also...")

"Haan pata hai Maa. Mujhe toh yeh lagta hai ki shaayad aap aur Aarav bhul jaate hain ki voh kahan kaam karte hain aur kya kaam karte hain isiliye mere saamne baar-baar unki hi side lete hain." I told her and for a minute, she went quiet.

(TRANSLATION - Yes, I know, Maa. But sometimes I feel like maybe you and Aarav forget where he works and what he does, that's why you keep taking his side in front of me.)

"Aadya, I know that you and your father have differences but I will not stand you talking about him like this. He is my husband and contrary to what you believe, he did not leave me or his children." Her voice turned stern and I scoffed.

"Yeah right." Was all I could say.

"Tu maane ya na maane, sacchayi yahi hai beta. Apna dhyaan rakh." She said before hanging up.

(TRANSLATION - Whether you believe it or not, this is the truth, beta. Take care of yourself.)

I threw my bag on my desk before gulping down three glasses of water down my throat before getting back to work.

Rajveer Pratap Ranawat might be infuriating but if there is one thing I was determined to do, it was exposing that Rakshas in front of the world to see, proving myself right.

Hey guys! This is the next chapter. Please tell me your honest reviews. I will really appreciate it. I love you all. Until next time. Bye!!