FF: Seducing the Throne::NEW Thread PG 1 - Page 16

Chapter Five

-Daddy Daycare-

Police Station, New York

"Ma'am you need to leave now." Repeated the monotone voice of the aviator clad wannabe MIB clone towering over her at the reception desk of the precinct, where she'd been repeating for the millionth time to the receptionist that she'd been held back on illegal grounds given that she hadn't taken the damn clothes from anywhere.

Irritated Aasha finally snapped out at the hulking suit-man, "Who the bloody hell are you?"

One of the off-duty cops it seemed had finally taken notice of Aasha's predicament, standing in borrowed clothes in the middle of a packed precinct would do that for most people, "Ma'am is this man bothering you?"

"No." snapped the suit, simultaneously as Aasha with her best damsel in distress look managed a pitiful, "Yes."

The officer who was very patently new, managed a baffled look, but to a step towards Aasha, the need to play protector evident in his nave countenance, but just as Aasha had been about to reel in the young officer with a single crystalline tear, her phone, still in the plastic Ziploc bag it'd been put in when confiscated, began ringing incessantly.

Her pitiful look of distress, quickly morphing into a sweet distracted smile, as she fished her phone out with as much delicacy as she could muster.

"Yes?"she answered curtly, tossing a poisonous glare over her shoulder at the hulking would-be-MIB agent, not even bothering to look at the number of the person who had dared to call in the middle of her perfect plan to be rid of him

_ -_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

The Empire Hotel, New York

"Mr. Raizada I presume?" drawled the slightly accented, gentleman who'd after a swift all-encompassing look throughout the hotel restaurant had made his way over to foreign gentleman's own corner table, one hand out stretched, the other at his perfect Windsor knot.

"Mr. Bass, a pleasure." Arnav Singh Raizada replied courteously, rising from his seat to take his proffered hand while simultaneously motioning that he take a seat, as if it was he who owned the hotel and not the converse.

Not that the notion was lost on the owner in question who merely mirrored his guests action with a quirk of his brow, signaling the waiter hovering at the corner of his eye with a casual gesture, asking him with a nod at the gentleman's glass of whiskey, "The same?"

The gentleman for his part, leaned back in his booth with a curious smirk, and with an oddly polite nod acquiesced.

Thus commenced a silence, almost as awkward as the ensuing steely clash of gazes.

And just as one would have thought the heavy silence was about become unbearably suffocating, a nervous minion, dressed in Empire livery hurried forward with a manila envelope, and handed it to one of them.

The entire restaurant which had been cleared out moments earlier in keeping with the pointed swift nod from its owner, held itself in a deafening silence, marred only by the crinkle of paper as a brief glance at the contents of the envelope, and the soft rhythmic whistle of air as the seemingly apathetic foreigner before him, used one long finger to trace and re-trace the rim of his glass of whiskey.

"Perhaps," began Chuck Bass, his voice almost amused as his trademark drawl drew out each word, waiting for the waiter to finish serving the table with a fresh round of drinks before he drawled with careful ennui, "On second thought, given you family's recent history at my hotel, you shouldn't - it seems a difficulty when it comes to holding one's liquor may be hereditary."

A low chuckle, the kind that would have sent grown women to their knees, swept through the room, "Hereditary?" repeated the foreigner, his veneer of civility barely masking the veiled threat his next words carried, "A pity the same won't be said for your wife's talent when it comes to the new fashion line."

_ -_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

Bass Penthouse, Upper Eastside

Bloody hell.

A note from his father was never a sign of good tidings.

Most especially when it said - 'We need to talk.'

Daimen, stretched languorously his afternoon nap with the flirty co-ed at the mixer the he had stepped into for a minute after the morning sleeping beauty incident, had proven very relaxing.

Now, all he had to do was get rid of her and make his way to the Empire.

_ -_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

The Corner of 72nd Street and Broadway, New York

Aasha Singh Raizada was not a happy little girl.

There was a reason she'd wanted to finish Law School in New York instead of back in Delhi, and a hulking wannabe-MIB agent- who claimed he was ''security' was not it.

She flashed yet another annoyed glare at the hulk of a man, stoically following her every footstep.

In fact so preoccupied was she with that very thought, well that and how she was going to explain to her father why there was a logical reason behind her having spent the past two hours in a jail cell for theft, that she was caught completely off guard as she slammed into the overcoat clad gentleman at one of the many corners she'd stormed past since Aman Chachu had informed her that her father was in New York.

Aasha who was just about to thank the gentleman, who had managed not only just to steady her with a swift arm around her waist, as she teetered on her battle-field stilettos, but had also graciously bent down to pick up her phone which had plummeted to the concrete on impact, froze as recognition of the amused smirk playing on the stranger's very very distinctive lips, registered in her already in overdrive mind.

_ -_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

AR Headquaters, Delhi.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but Sir is in the middle of a merger deal and won't be available just now." Parroted the newest addition to the reception staff at AR Fashions, much to her surprise the persistent caller who none of the other receptionist's seemed to want to deal with sweetly rang off with a polite, "I understand."

She looked back at the phone for a blank second.

That hadn't been difficult.

And just as she put the phone down thinking that none of the other receptionists knew how to firmly dissuade a caller the phone rang again.

Only this time as she parroted the customary AR greeting the sweet voice in question introduced herself, "This is Mrs. Raizada speaking - put me through to Aman."

_ -_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

Hey Upper East Sider's, Gossip Girl here.

Your one and only source into the lives of Manhattan's once again scandalous Elite.

Clandestine meetings, veiled threats and Emperor's drawing battle-lines in the Empire itself.

One would think this week couldn't get any better...

But when you've been in the business as long as I have ...you'll find, that like good wine scandal always gets better.

All you just have to wait for it to run into you.

Or rather all you have to wait for it to run into each other ...

Oh my, what have we here?

The Damned Bass running into the mystery Scandal Princess?

Or is it the other way around?...

Could it be that, UES royalty has meet its match?

You know you love me,

XOXO

Gossip Girl

_ -_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_

_____________________________________________

Read and Review my loves!!

Also could we get a few crossed finger's for our very own -

curiousbookworm

Precal test she says...i'm just shuddering at the thought of math...when it comes to that particular subject - think Penny from Big Bang Theory if you're think of me and math...😕 i hated it in school, i hated it in college and the one good thing about law school is that there is none of it...😆