The June 1610 sun blazed over Surat's vibrant port, its rays glinting off the Tapti River as the Vora Trading Company's beachfront complex pulsed with ambition. The restaurant, its spiced curries luring nobles nightly, hummed with deals struck in secure private rooms, guarded by Amir's loyal men. Kofi's blacksmith shop, its forge a constant roar, churned out tools and blades that vanished from shelves, coins stacking high. In ten days, three new ventures—medicine shop, clothing store, and glassware shop—would open in a spectacle to rival Mughal feasts, cementing Vora's name across the empire. Jai Vora, nine years old but sharp as a khanda, stood in the courtyard, overseeing crates of gleaming glass bottles, bolts of Vora's Durable Thread, and drums of Surat's Elixir, Heart's Guardian, and Pain's Whisper. The Emperor System, his secret AI-spirit guide, buzzed: "Three shops, one grand party? Kid, you're making Jahangir's court look like a village mela. Crush this, and the EIC'll be scrambling."
Jai gathered his team—Sarita, Ravi, Manoj, Leela, Anil, Shashi, Kali, Vikram, Ram, and Annu—under the restaurant's awning, the sea breeze carrying the clatter of hammers. Parchment invitations, inked in flowing Urdu and sealed with wax, lay ready for couriers to deliver to nobles, merchants, and Mughal court officials from Surat to Delhi. "This opening isn't just business," Jai declared, his Charm weaving authority. "It's Vora's dawn. We've invited every noble, every officer in the Mughal domain. They'll see our medicines heal, our clothes fit like a dream, our glassware shine like jewels. Surat will roar, and the empire will echo."
Sarita, her People Management a quiet force, nodded. "The invitations promise wonders—free medicine samples, clothing trials, glass displays. Nobles from Ahmedabad, even Agra, are coming." Ravi, holding a denim jacket, grinned. "Our tailors—Vikram's six included—are stitching S to XXL. Shirts, pants, Durable Thread jackets—ready for trials." Leela, clutching a glass vial of Pain's Whisper, added, "The medicine shop's stocked—Elixir, Guardian, Whisper, in Kofi's bottles. Free samples will hook them." Jai's eyes sparkled. "Perfect. Let them try, buy, and carry Vora's name far."
Anil stepped forward, his Wisdom steady, a land deed in hand. "Jai, that Tapti plot you wanted—18,000 square feet, city heart—I bought it days after you asked. Costly, but our coins from restaurant profits covered it. Construction's started for Vora Heights." He gestured to Shashi and Kali, who unrolled sketches. Shashi, her voice eager, pointed to a temporary 4-BHK flat rising on the site. "We've built a model—four bedrooms, glass windows, riverside view. Not for sale, just to show nobles what the ten apartments and your penthouse will be."
Kali added, "On the seaside plot, we've got a 3-BHK model for the eighteen-flat project. Stone walls, glass windows—pure luxury. Both models are temporary, to be razed once construction's done, but they'll dazzle visitors." Jai's vision flared. "Exactly. Show the nobles royalty—space, glass, river views. Vora Heights' apartments and the seaside flats are for our affiliates or gifted to allies like Vikram Singh. No sales, only loyalty." Anil nodded, pride in his eyes. "The Tapti site's alive—shops, stable, restaurant branch, event hall foundations laid. It's your vision, beta."
Jai turned to the seaside plot, where workers polished glass plates and tailors sewed denim. "The restaurant's thriving—nobles pack it nightly, safe in our private rooms, thanks to Amir's security. The blacksmith shop's goods—swords, tools—sell faster than Kofi can forge." Anil chuckled. "Merchants make deals here, nobles dine with friends. It's a goldmine." Jai's grin was fierce. "And in ten days, we add three shops. The restaurant branch at Vora Heights—takeaway and dine-in—will draw merchants. The event hall's for weddings, feasts. Nobles will fight to book it."
The system pinged: "You're building an empire, kid. Shops, flats, glass—Vora's stealing the Mughal spotlight. Keep the EIC in the dark." The courtyard buzzed as couriers saddled horses, invitations bound for distant cities. The temporary flats—3-BHK seaside, 4-BHK at Vora Heights—stood as testaments to Jai's ambition, their glass windows catching the sun like beacons of a new era.
As the team dispersed, Jai stood by the Tapti, its flow mirroring his plans. In ten days, Vora's grand opening would shake the Mughal empire, a bold strike against the EIC's creeping shadow in Masulipatnam and Surat.