Chapter 8: Betrayal in the Boardroom

In the following half month, Priya came to see me twice more, to confirm several important decisions to be announced at the conference.

Each time, she brought a different file, sometimes a box of sweets, as if remembering the Indian custom of never coming empty-handed. She never lingered; her words were always brisk, businesslike, but sometimes her eyes would rest on me for a moment too long.

Finally, as if suddenly remembering something, she handed me a document:

“The large tourism project not yet announced is directly cooperating with the state government. You can announce it at the conference as your exclusive scoop.”

I was silent for a moment, then took it and thanked her.

Amit Bhaiya heard about this and kept advising me:

“It seems President Priya appreciates you. Why not tactfully mention Arjun suppressing you?”

I edited my host script and smiled: “No need. Would she make things hard for her fiancé for a stranger reporter?”

On the day of the conference, the venue was packed. The seat in the centre, where Priya should be, was empty.

Under the countless spotlights, I was announcing several important Mehra Group collaborations. Suddenly, a stranger stood up and accused me loudly:

“Where did you steal such confidential information?”

I kept my composure: “My cooperation with Mehra Group is completely legitimate.”

“Legitimate? Someone like you who gets ahead through shady deals dares say that?” he shouted. “I have evidence!”

Someone walked onto the stage. It was Arjun. He stared at me and sighed softly:

“Rohit, as a small reporter, it’s normal to be attracted to Priya. I wanted to spare you some dignity, but you just don’t give up.”

The screen behind suddenly switched from the PPT to several explicit photos. And the person in the photos—was me.

“You sent him these photos, went to his hotel room in a towel at midnight, and there’s CCTV of you and your boss checking into a hotel together.”

With his words, the screen changed again. In the dim hotel entrance, my boss and I walked in side by side.

“A repeat offender like you—”

Amid the uproar, the main hall doors suddenly opened. Priya strode in, her gaze sweeping the room sharply. She also glanced at me, without the slightest pause.

My heart suddenly sank. The stage lights shone on me, as if I were being publicly humiliated.

A few aunties gasped, covering their mouths. Someone in the back muttered, “Kya zamana aa gaya hai.”

For a moment, the audience murmured:

“Doing such things, a disgrace to reporters.”

“So disgusting.”

“No professional ethics at all, ban him!”

I looked at no one, just stared at Priya. Watched her look at Arjun and say calmly: “What did you just say?”

Arjun said:

“Priya, he tricked you. He pretended to be an exclusive reporter to get close to you, just to steal confidential information and harm Mehra Group. Even this chance to host the conference was gotten through shady deals!”

Priya was silent for a moment, then looked at me: “Do you have anything to say?”

The murmurs grew louder. The old men in Nehru jackets in the front row shook their heads, and some women exchanged sympathetic glances. I saw my whole career flash before my eyes, the years of struggle threatening to go to waste.