📖 Chapter 17 – The Rotten Branch
The station was alive with its usual chaos, the clamor of trains blending with the calls of vendors and the shuffle of thousands of footsteps. Raj's second stall had already become a familiar sight, its bold sign attracting commuters who had heard whispers of the "fusion pav" and the "chocolate gulab jamun" that had once shocked a festival. Business was steady, money flowed, and his staff moved with growing discipline under Raj's watchful eye. But not all was as solid as it seemed.
Rohit, the loud youth Raj had recruited despite his doubts, leaned against the cart with a scowl as he handed out plates. He was good at drawing customers in, but his temper burned hot, and Raj often caught him muttering curses when he thought no one was listening. Customers had begun to notice his sharp tone, though Raj smoothed it over quickly. To Raj, Rohit was still a piece of rough stone that training might polish into a gem. But to Shankar, he was a crack waiting to split the empire apart.
That evening, as the stalls closed and the last train departed, Rohit lingered behind, grumbling under his breath. It was then that Shankar appeared from the shadows, his mustache twitching with a cruel smile. "Rohit, isn't it?" he said casually, as though greeting an old friend. Rohit stiffened, recognizing him instantly.
"What do you want?" Rohit asked, his tone defensive.
Shankar chuckled. "Relax. I've been watching you. You work hard, but does Raj really value you? A widow, a tea-boy, a college kid—those are your teammates. Do you think you belong with them? You're stronger, faster, smarter. But he treats you the same. Like a servant."
Rohit clenched his fists. The words dug deeper than he wanted to admit. Raj had never disrespected him, but he had corrected him in front of others, and Rohit's pride still stung.
"I could give you more," Shankar whispered, stepping closer. "Money, recognition, a stall of your own one day. Why waste your time under someone who will always see you as second best?"
For a moment, Rohit's expression wavered. The temptation glimmered in his eyes. But then he muttered, "Raj gave me work when no one else did."
Shankar's smile twisted. "And you think that makes him your savior? He'll grow rich while you break your back. Think carefully, boy. Loyalty doesn't feed your stomach." He slipped a bundle of notes into Rohit's pocket, clapping him on the shoulder. "Consider this… a gift. I'll return tomorrow for your answer."
When Shankar disappeared into the night, Rohit stood frozen, the weight of the money heavy against his chest. His heart pounded with conflict. He wanted to believe Raj's words about family, about building something together. But the lure of money, of power, of pride—it gnawed at him like a hungry beast.
The next morning, Raj greeted his staff warmly, assigning tasks with his usual calm. Imran bustled with eagerness, Meena handled her duties with steady grace, and Arjun laughed as he served customers. Only Rohit seemed distracted, his eyes darting, his movements stiff. Raj noticed but said nothing, choosing instead to trust that training and loyalty would hold.
Yet in the golden panel's corner, a faint warning blinked.
[Alert: Staff Loyalty Fluctuating – Rohit at Risk]
Raj frowned, his instincts sharpening. Something was wrong. But with the rush of customers demanding his focus, he pushed the thought aside, unaware that the true test of his empire's foundation had already begun.
And in the shadows beyond the crowd, Shankar watched, his cruel smile widening. The rotten branch was bending. Soon, it would break.