Chapter 7: Crazy demand

Meera's POV

I stood at the edge of the stairs, my breath shallow, my body tensing as the sneeze tickled the back of my throat. It was almost unbearable. My eyes watered, and I could feel my nostrils twitching with the impending eruption. Holding my breath, I fought it, wanting to be in control. I didn’t want to show any weakness in front of him. But, of course, just as I thought I could manage it, the sneeze came crashing through, an involuntary explosion of air. It echoed through the house, bouncing off the walls like a distant gunshot. I rubbed my nose hastily, frustrated with my own body.

At the top of the stairs, I waited. Still, I had to admit I was feeling a little impatient. The clock was ticking. There was no time to waste. I could hear my father’s movements coming from upstairs, the creak of his footsteps signaling his descent. I took a deep breath, the air sharp as it filled my lungs, and turned to face the living room.

I couldn’t stand waiting any longer. If he wasn’t going to come down faster, then I’d go to him. With a final glance toward the stairs, I turned on my heel and made my way to the couch.

I sat down with a soft thud, crossing my legs. The weight of the room’s silence hung in the air like an unwanted guest. I let out a long sigh, keeping my posture straight, not allowing myself to slouch. Not today.

Finally, I heard him. His heavy boots thudded on the wooden steps. He appeared at the top, his large frame blocking the light, as though he had all the time in the world. The old man was a creature of habit, always taking his sweet time to make an entrance.

I stared up at him, my lips pressed in a tight line, feeling my blood pulse with impatience. He didn’t move right away, simply eyed me with that all-knowing, calculating gaze.

“Meera,” he said, his voice as gruff as always, “What’s this about?”

“I need a favor,” I said, my voice crisp, every word carefully measured.

He raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “A favor? From me? When was the last time you needed a favor from me?”

I didn’t answer immediately, choosing instead to flick my gaze over to the window, where the light was beginning to fade, the dark creeping in, casting long shadows across the room.

“Why don’t you sit down first?” I suggested, my tone laced with cool detachment.

He narrowed his eyes, but then, to my surprise, he obeyed, dropping down onto the armchair opposite the couch. He was trying to figure me out, trying to gauge whether I was bluffing or if I was serious. But it didn’t matter. I had made up my mind.

I crossed my arms, staring at him now. “I want you to transfer the shares to my name.”

For a moment, he didn’t react. His face remained a perfect mask of indifference. But I could see the tension in his jaw, the slight twitch in his fingers, a sign that he hadn’t expected this.

“Shares?” he repeated, the word hanging in the air like a puzzle. “What shares? What business are you talking about, Meera?”

I refused to break eye contact. “Don’t play games, father. You know what I’m talking about.”

His lips tightened, the smile completely gone now, replaced by a more stern, calculating expression. “You’re not old enough to be playing with these kinds of things. You're not even close to being ready for what you're asking.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped my lips. It was bitter, sharp, the kind of laugh I knew would make him uncomfortable. “Ready? Don’t talk to me like that. I’m more than ready. I just need what’s mine. That’s all.”

I could feel my heartbeat quicken, a strange mixture of anger and power surging through me. He always thought he could control everything. But not anymore. Not with me. Not today.

“Meera,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for. You’re talking about things that you have no idea how to handle.”

I was done with his patronizing tone. He was always talking down to me like I was some child. I stood up, my movements sharp, and pointed directly at him.

“You sold my cousin,” I said, the words coming out with a force I didn’t even know I had. “And now I want my share of the damn money. You owe me.”

For the first time, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Something close to shock. It was quick, like a bolt of lightning, but it was there. He hadn’t expected me to call him out like this. He hadn’t expected me to step up, to challenge him on this. I could see him struggling to find words, to form some sort of defense, but he couldn’t.

His gaze flicked to the side, then back to me. “Meera… you’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” I replied, my voice low and deadly calm. “I’m not playing anymore. I’ve waited long enough. You sold her off, but you forgot something. I’m your daughter. And this—this is my cut. I want my money. I want my stake in the game, or I’ll make sure it doesn't ends well”

I saw his lips part, and for a moment, he seemed lost for words. His usual control, the iron grip he always kept over situations, was slipping. I could taste victory on my tongue, but I wasn’t going to let him think he could win me over with some half-hearted excuse.

“Meera, you think you can just come in here and demand things from me like you own the place?” he asked, his tone turning sharp.

I didn’t back down. “Try me.”

The room seemed to grow heavier as he stared at me, a battle of wills playing out between us. He finally broke the silence, his voice strained. “You want the truth? You want what’s rightfully yours?”

I stepped closer, my eyes narrowing. “Yes.”

He exhaled a long, slow breath, as if he was weighing the consequences. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Meera. You have no idea what you’re asking.”

I didn’t flinch. “You sold my cousin. And now you’ll give me what’s mine. I’m done waiting for you to decide what’s best for me.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. He didn’t say anything, just stared at me with that look of disbelief. And then, slowly, his shoulders slumped. His hands dropped to his sides.

“You’re going to regret this, daughter” he muttered under his breath.

But I stood my ground. “I’ll take my chances.”