All hell broke loose
Hundreds of footsteps broke out, she could have mistaken it for a thunderbolt. At the corner of her eye, men dressed in black vests spread out, they surrounded Anthony, on all sides. Protecting, guarding and shielding him as if their lives depended on it. She wondered how they hadn't pushed her out of the way by now. But she was the least of their worries. Their faces were stuck in deep concentration. Their eyes set on Ishaan.
Each of them with rifles in their hands, pointed directly at Ishaan. Waiting patiently for his next move.
One wrong move and she doubted they would hesitate to pull the trigger.
Naomi in silent despair turned to look at Anthony. A cocky grin played on his lips as he gazed down at Ishaan.
Anthony seemed unfazed.
A question played in her head as fear crawled up on her. She gazed at Anthony shocked at his composure. She watched him and then watched all the men that had gathered to protect him, with rifles in their grasp.
Who is this man?
The question ringed in her ears but she pushed it aside.
Naomi watched as sweat beads formed on Ishaans forehead. His lips quivered and he wet it unconsciously.
Just put the gun down!
The words echoed in Naomi's head, she wanted to scream those words to him over and over again at least until his sanity returned to him. But she feared to draw attention to herself. A hundred plus guns were pointed directly at him, waiting patiently for him to make one wrong move.
Just before Naomi thought everything would go downhill from here, a woman from the table, someone Naomi hadn't even spared a simple glance, stood up.
She was beautifully dressed in an orange sarri, that covered her from head to toe. The sarri was embellished with beautiful jewels that scattered themselves across the soft fabric creating unique patterns that captured the eyes. Her hair and face was covered except for her eyes.
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Naomi took her attention away from that woman and looked at the rest of the woman that sat at the same table, they too were dressed in saris but one was dressed in green and the other in purple whereas her petticoat and blouse were yellow. Naomi thought them a peculiar combination but was still filled with awe. The jewelry on their attire an opulency of their wealth. Both their eyes were brown differing from the first woman, their hair and half of their face hidden behind the fabric of their hijab.
Naomi remembered that Anthony had said that Ishaan, his colleague, had three wives. Naomi figured that the three woman seated there were his wives.
She returned her attention back to the woman that had stood up and scrutinized her. Even though half of her face was hidden behind the silk fabric, her eyes were a vivid testimony to her beauty, black eyes that did not move frantically across the room at all the eyes that stared wide-eyed. But her eyes were firm and confident, they landed on Anthony and the woman threw him a look of disdain and resentment.
Everyone watched silently as the woman walked up to Ishaan and placed her hand across the barrel of his gun and the other on his shoulder. She stared into his eyes and Ishaan, in plain anger and trepidation, stared back into hers. Seconds passed as they held each others gaze, not a sound was heard as everyone seemed to hold their breaths. Their attention solely on the pair.
Even the previously chirping crickets seemed to seize their mating rituals in order to witness the scene unfold.
The lady in the sari smiled at Ishaan a comforting, calming smile, slowly she shook her head "अगर तुम ऐसा करोगे तो पापा तुमसे खुश नहीं रहोगे सिर्फ इस वेश्या की औलाद की वजह से अपनी प्रतिष्ठा बर्बाद मत करो " The woman's voice was soft and beautiful a pure melody to the wars. The words that had left the mouth of the woman seemed foreign in Naomi's ears never had she heard of it but Ishaan understood it well for he smiled sheepishly, his face seeming to decrease in age as he looked down at the woman lovingly, his eyes shining with adoration.
Every soul watched the woman with silent admiration for her bravery, Naomi turned her head to look at Anthony. His face was void of emotions he watched the woman with a stoic expression. A tinge of suspicion swimming in his orbs.
Ishaan nodded at the woman in the sari and slowly, he lowered the gun.
And the bodyguards surrounding Anthony followed suit, lowering their weapons with their eyes laid cautiously on Ishaan. Naomi released a breath she didn't know she was holding
"Sir. Sir" Jeff came rushing towards Anthony. He was oblivious to what had taken place. He bowed before Anthony who gave him the go ahead to speak "Mr Ishaan has arrived.
Anthony seemed to flinch at the words. Confusion erupted itself in Naomi's' head and she glanced at the man that had previously held the gun towards Anthony. 50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjWnIubjrH3
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Wasn't he Ishaan?
"Is he currently in the building?" Anthony inquired, seeming flustered as his gaze swept wearily at his bodyguards that remained standing with the weapons in their grasps.
Jeffs face jolted up and down in vigorous nods. "He is currently in the parking lot accompanied by his bodyguards, sir"
"Good. Get out there and give him a warm welcome. Direct him to this table." Jeff granted Anthony another nod before 50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXnVe3qeGgt
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he disappeared between the crowd.
Anthony raised a hand, his gaze sweeping through the group of men in black, tucked their rifles into their holsters and marched through the crowd.
An artificial smile grew on Anthony's face as his gaze swept from the man who had held a gun to his head and his three wives. Naomi witnessed Anthony's gaze linger longer on the woman with the orange sari an emotion she couldn't uncover in his eyes.
"I guess we better be on our best behaviour. Your father is about to arrive" Anthony said. Right before an elderly man followed by many men appeared.
He had to look down at everyone as he walked towards the table and everyone had to look up at him. Grey hair mixed with black seemed to he crumpled under his kufi. His strides were confident and precise but the constant falter could not go unnoticed he swinged his walking stick before him. As his eyes landed at everyone around the table he smiled.
"Ah Anthony. My dearest of sons. How has it been going?" Anthony's smile grew
"It's been wonderful sir" the man nodded as he sat down at the head of the table. The table consisted of eight seats, a seat at either end of the table and three seats on opposite sides. Anthony sat beside the elderly man with a walking stick whereas his son sat on the opposite side of him, his two wives sitting next to him and Naomi sitting beside Anthony and the woman with the green sarri sitting next to her. Naomi gulped as she looked up to find the lady with the orange sari seated right opposite her staring right at her. It was hard to figure out the woman's expression seeing that half of her face was hidden but those ebony eyes that stared into Naomi soul were beyond intimidating "and who is this ..." the elderly man inquired as if only now noticing Naomi's existence. Naomi's cheeks grew warm as everyone's attention landed on her. She felt Anthony's hand find hers under the table.
"Mr Ishaan this is a close friend of mine. Her name is Naomi Johnson." The man nodded softly, scrutinizing her in the process "Naomi this is Mr Rohan Ishaan, he is my business colleague we had made a huge deal, and decided to come here and celebrate. That is his wonderful son. Nur Ishaan and his three wives." Anthony reached over to grab his glass of water, he sipped on it causally. Naomi happy that his hands had left hers
"Hey Anthony" Mr Rohan said waving his hands dismissively "Stop with all these formalities. Don't you know that you're family. You're my son in-law. You're family" Anthony choked on his drink and started coughing. Patting roughly on his chest.
Son in-law? Was Anthony married?
Naomi felt the colour drain from her cheeks.
Replacement.
That was the exact word Mr Nur had used. He said that Anthony had found a replacement. Was she the replacement? Was she playing as Anthony's mistress? She shivered in pure disgust at the possibility.
Questions and thoughts banged on the borders of her head. Begging to be let out. She felt a cold sensation flow over her as if someone had drenched her in ice cold water.
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Was she playing as Anthony's mistress?
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