Amira's POV
My driver opens the door of my car, as I step on the tarmac. The cameras go wild clicking away at each movement of mine, but they don't bother me as I make my way through the stream of hungry journalists, the guards surrounding me, making an effective barrier against them.
"What does your last statement at the press mean?"
"Are you leaving the government to join the opposition?"
"Are you resigning from your position as the youth wing president?"
"Is it true that you are retiring from politics altogether?"
"When are you and Salman getting married?"
I almost laugh at the last question before I finally enter my office building, the insides welcoming me with a gush of cold air, with chillers blasting from all ends making the heat outside virtually imperceptible. The receptionist at the desk gives me a smile acknowledging my arrival, a smile which I return. My heels click away at the pristine white floors, as I make my way towards my main office.
I take a seat behind my desk on my leather revolving chair and inhale the familiar artificially manipulated air, and let my eyes and adjust to the familiar black and white surroundings. The edges and lines sharp, clearly defining the different objects. So clear, and so unlike my life. I flip open the file on my desk, and take a look into the latest demand from our good for nothing coalition. I can't believe it. They are demanding complete authority over the NH19 project, the latest national highway that our company just got a contract for. As if half of the party funding wasn't enough to fill their endless pits of stomach. If we were going to use the public money to bribe a party for establishing our government, then we're just as corrupt as the other political organizations.
Amin appears at my side with a file in his hand, his face showcasing accomplishment but also apprehension.
"I presume you have the information you were asked to acquire?"
"I do, ma'am," he says, as we enter the square room, the black tinted glass of my desk gleaming in the numerous bright lights installed in the ceiling. I take a seat on my leather chair seat, the cushion pressing down under my weight. I take a moment to appreciate the surroundings. Black and white, the lines clean, distinguishing between boundaries, nothing blurred in between, so clear and so unlike my life. "Though, I fear this might just be the tip of the iceberg."
"You fear, truly my friend," I say, quietly.
"I'm sorry?"
"Are those the reports?" I point towards the file in this hand.
"Yes they are." He places them on the desk in front of me.
"Does anybody else know?"
"Only those that we trust. And those that we don't can be won over in a hundred and one ways."
"I'm sure they can," I smile at his enthusiasm and loyalty. His silver grey eyes glimmered in the light, syncing with the suit he has on.
"Would you like me to do anything else?"
"I will inform you if I do. You may leave, now."
"Thank you."
I open the file and brace myself for the plunge I'm about to take. There is no turning back now.
Amin's POV
I close the door behind me, trying to keep my cool. Each cell of my body was filled with anticipation of what has already begun. I give my office chair a one-eighty degree turn, to face the large window giving me the view of what was the most posh point of the city, which was considered to be the business hub of the area, where all the biggest contracts were signed by the country's best business men. It was funny how skyscrapers and smooth roads huddled in one part of the area could be used to turn a blind eye to the poverty and injustice of the rest of the country. Ignorance, truly, was bliss.
I adjust my position so I'm away from the prying eyes of the camera in this God forsaken place. I mean, I haven't forsaken it, so hasn't my boss but that doesn't count, does it? Not yet, anyway.
By boss I mean my real boss. Not the bitch I just made a fool of.
I mean, how dumb can these Promised Ones get? I haven't found anything special about Amira, and I doubt the others will be any different. Much like other human beings, they get swayed by a pretty face, a good attitude and a few clever quotes. All of the things which I thankfully had, making me the best man for the job. Above all, I had loyalty and an unwavering motive.
My phone beeps, notifying a message.
"We are watching, and now so are they."
A smile finds its way to my lips. This is easier than I thought.