The Negotiation of Titans

July 27, 2009 – 9:00 PM

Aritra's Bedroom, Dakshin Barasat, Kolkata

The room was thick with tension, the quiet hum of the ceiling fan the only sound cutting through the silence. Aritra leaned back slightly in his chair, his Nova 1 still glowing on the table between them, its screen filled with damning evidence. Across from him, Nathaniel Blackwood sat motionless, his sharp gray eyes studying Aritra, calculating, waiting.

Nathaniel had played this game before. He had bent kings, CEOs, and politicians to his will. But this was different. The boy sitting in front of him was unpredictable. Unbreakable. And, most importantly, unafraid.

Aritra broke the silence first, his voice laced with unrestrained confidence. "What do you think happens if I forward these videos to OmniLink? If I make them go viral in every corner of the world? You think you hold all the power here? I built my empire from nothing. I can do it again. But you? You'll watch your entire kingdom crumble in an instant."

Nathaniel smirked, but there was something behind it now—a flicker of something close to caution.

Aritra leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "I come from zero. I can rise again from the ashes. But you? Your empire is built on shadows and whispers. The moment light is shined upon you, it's over. So tell me, Blackwood, are you really ready for that?"

For the first time in their entire exchange, Nathaniel hesitated. It was small—a fractional delay, a flicker of uncertainty—but Aritra caught it.

Nathaniel let out a breath, tapping his fingers against the polished wooden table. He had faced challengers before—business moguls, politicians, even warlords. But Aritra Naskar was different. He wasn't intimidated, he wasn't desperate, and, most importantly, he wasn't bluffing.

Nathaniel's mind worked swiftly, calculating the probabilities. If he refused, Aritra would release the videos, and the fallout would be catastrophic. Governments, watchdogs, and media houses would feast upon his downfall like vultures. But if he agreed, he could still maneuver, still control, still shape the outcome in his favor.

He leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering. "You assume, young man, that I do not have contingencies. That I would allow you to simply press a button and destroy what I have built."

Aritra's eyes darkened. "I know you have contingencies. But so do I. What you don't understand, Nathaniel, is that I am not negotiating from fear. I am negotiating from power. You've ruled over men who crumble when threatened. I don't. I built my empire with my own hands, and if I have to, I'll build it again. But you? You don't get second chances. The moment those videos go live, you're finished."

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against the armrest. "So, you expect me to yield?"

Aritra tilted his head, smirking. "I expect you to negotiate."

The Terms of Power

Nathaniel shifted in his seat, resting his hands on the armrest of the chair. "And what is it you propose, Mr. Naskar?"

Aritra leaned forward, the tension crackling like an electric storm between them. "A deal. A true deal. One where we both win—but on my terms."

Nathaniel arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Aritra continued, his voice steady, unwavering. "You want me to marry your daughter. Fine. I'll play along. But she will be my bargaining chip, not yours. And in return, you will make way for a telecommunication empire—a joint venture between us."

Nathaniel's fingers tapped against the table, considering. "And the terms?"

Aritra didn't blink. "I control 90%. You hold 10%. And it will be launched across Europe and America, excluding India and China."

Nathaniel smirked, shaking his head. "90%? That's absurd. You want to build in my backyard with my name attached and expect me to hold only a fraction?"

Aritra leaned back, arms crossed. "You want in, or not? Because this is the only way you don't lose everything tonight. And let's be real here—you need me more than I need you. I can build this empire with or without you, but you will never regain control if you let me do it alone."

Nathaniel exhaled through his nose, his gaze steady. "And your future businesses?"

Aritra leaned forward. "You will support every business venture I choose to enter. AI, renewable energy, space infrastructure, financial institutions, biotech, defense—whatever industries I step into, you will provide the legal, political, and strategic backing to ensure I face no obstacles. If regulations pose an issue, you will get them rewritten. If governments push back, you will ensure they align with our interests. Your job is to keep the path clear for expansion, no matter the industry."

Nathaniel nodded slowly, absorbing the scale of the demand. "That's quite a burden to carry."

Aritra smirked. "It's the price of keeping your position in the future world order. Because let's be honest, Nathaniel—you're not as untouchable as you used to be. The world is changing. You either adapt, or you become obsolete."

Nathaniel was silent for a long moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. Then, finally, he gave a short nod. "Consider it done."

Aritra smirked. "Then we have a deal."

Nathaniel stood up, straightening his cuffs. "Secrecy does not remove consequences, Aritra. It only delays them."

Aritra met his gaze evenly. "I'll handle my consequences. You focus on handling yours."

Nathaniel let out a quiet chuckle before turning toward the door. "Then let's make history."

Aritra remained seated for a moment longer, letting the reality settle. He had secured a deal, but this was only the beginning.

By aligning himself with Nathaniel, he had placed himself at the center of a global battlefield where governments, corporations, and silent powerbrokers would all seek to challenge him.

He exhaled slowly, adjusting his sleeves as he stood. The war had just begun.