The top floor conference suite of Malhotra Enterprises had been prepared to perfection. Fresh orchids lined the walls, the city skyline stretched endlessly behind frosted glass, and the finest tea from Darjeeling was laid out. For anyone else, this meeting was historic.
For Rudra Malhotra, it was Tuesday.
The double doors opened, and in strode Mr. Samuel Carter, billionaire, political powerhouse, and one of the most influential men in the United States. Flanked by his entourage, he walked in with the air of someone used to people scrambling to please him.
But Rudra Malhotra did not scramble.
He didn't even stand.
"Mr. Carter," Rudra said evenly, seated at the head of the table. His tone didn't carry awe, only acknowledgment.
Mr. Carter gave a booming laugh. "Ah, Mr. Malhotra! I've heard a lot about you. The man who rules half of India's industries with an iron fist. I must say, I like your style."
Rudra's expression didn't flicker. "The proposal."
The room went quiet. The assistants shifted awkwardly. Mr. Carter, however, seemed amused by Rudra's bluntness.
"Straight to business. I like that." He leaned forward, sliding the thick file across the table. "If we partner, you get access to our U.S. distribution networks. Think about it—Malhotra Enterprises expanding globally overnight. Your company takes 50% profit. Ours, 60%. Everyone wins."
There was silence. Everyone waited for Rudra's reaction. This was, after all, a golden opportunity. Any other CEO would've shaken hands immediately, dazzled by the promise of American markets.
But Rudra Malhotra wasn't any CEO.
He leafed through the proposal slowly, his face a mask of icy calm. Page after page, numbers and graphs flickered under his eyes. Finally, he closed the file.
"No."
The word was so sharp, so final, that even Mr. Carter's smile faltered. His entourage shifted nervously, unsure if they heard correctly.
"No?" Mr. Carter repeated. "Do you understand the magnitude of this deal?"
"I do," Rudra replied, his voice flat and steady. "Sixty percent for you. Fifty for me. You win more. I don't make deals where my company bleeds while the other fattens. Equal share, or nothing."
Mr. Carter chuckled, though it was thinner now. "You drive a hard bargain, young man. But surely you understand — I bring more to the table. My networks, my influence—"
Rudra leaned back, eyes glinting with steel. "I built my empire without your networks. Without your influence. And I will expand it without them, if necessary." He let the words hang, cold and heavy. "Malhotra Enterprises does not kneel."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the air conditioning seemed to pause.
Finally, Mr. Carter laughed again, louder this time, though it sounded more like surrender than amusement. "Ha! You're something else, Malhotra. I see why they call you ruthless. Very well. Equal share it is… or nothing."
Rudra's lips curved in the faintest ghost of a smile. Not warmth — victory.
"Then it is nothing."
He stood, buttoned his coat, and walked out of the room without another word, leaving behind one of the richest men in the world staring after him in disbelief.
The staff outside whispered in awe as Rudra passed.
"He said no… to him?!"
"Does he want to start a war with America?"
"No. He just is the war."
Rudra Malhotra didn't fear billionaires. He didn't fear politicians.
He feared no one.
And once again, everyone else feared him.