Gn 002 book:0078

Oberon picked up his mug of the coffee and

carried it out to the terrace of his penthouse apartment, shivering slightly

when the crisp cool air hit his face. He thought, I should be happier than I

am. Strange thing to peruse in the morning but he could not help being

dissatisfied at the fact that he was not happy like all the other people who

were around him. The dawn was colder than the day and the sun was already

peeping over the horizon with its beautiful reddish orange hue casting and

mesmerizing glow all around the sky. Winter in Sydney was considerable better

and warmer than winter in London and he knew that since he had lived there for

almost five years before coming back to his own soil.

Oberon surveyed the panoramic view of the

city skyline coming alight all around him and it filled him with a strange

sensation. He told himself that a man would be fool to not be happy when he had

finally achieved every single thing that he had desired to achieve. He had

vowed to achieve them on his own feet and at thirty-four Oberon Hunter was no

fool.

It had been a very long time since he had

understood that he did not belong anywhere. He had been thrown in chaos and

everything had been burning up in flames. He was only seven years old when he

had felt that rejection coming to hit him hard and bad at full force. Neither

his mother did ever care for that nor the man he had known as his father since

birth was not his father. And most definitely, the man who was the reason of

his birth in the first place had mentioned that he was never going to be able

to get out anything from him at all.

A Rhodes scholar Oberon had become an

entrepreneur back in England over a decade earlier and he had gone into

partnership with two of his best friends and that too they were from Oxford. No

one had wanted to give them their money and no one was willing to invest in

some crazy stupid idea that they had but strange things happen when young men

take an oath to make things for the better and not worse. There was a

dilapidated old wine bar at the corner of Piccadilly which had lost its glory

but there was still an old school charm laden inside that wooden stools and the

grand piano at the corner which was open for anyone to play. Alex was the

pianist and prodigy of their group.

“Let’s take up this place,” he had said and

they had done just that. It should be demolished and under no circumstance they

were going to be able to achieve what they had plans. After all they had no

money but that was the first time that all of them had learnt that money was

not important when it came to values and capability. They had turned it out

into one of the most favourite wine bars in London and after that they had

opened the second in Cambridge and then another.

Then it had not taken two years to open ten

more and finally they had formed a franchise. There were two things that they

had never compromised upon, that was the quality of wine and the music. Every

single Knights’ bar had a piano in the corner still open for anyone to play for

the audience. And as they say, only the first million is the most difficult.

After that, it was easy. Definitely not what everyone thinks, but easier.

The intercom rang up suddenly making Oberon

look up at the bronze grandfather clock on the mantel piece and found that it

was still early in the morning for anyone to come and meet him. He picked up

the receiver and said,” Hello?”

“Sir, this is Jerry. There is a courier package

here for you. And they are telling that it needs to be delivered by hand,” said

the night guard of his apartment whose shift was probably ending at six in the

morning.

“Does he look armed or anyway dangerous?

Have you checked him?” asked Oberon as he was thinking that who might be the

person to send him something like this in the morning and it was not his

birthday as well that Alex or Charles would even pull a prank.

“Yes Sir. I have checked him thoroughly. He

seems to be carrying nothing except a box and an envelope,” said Jerry and

Oberon grunted and then sighed.

“Fine. Send him up Jerry,” said Oberon as

he placed the receiver back in its cradle.

Life always had found a new way to surprise

him every single day and today was probably going to be no different than that.

This might be anything at all. Except his mother and his multiple step-fathers

whose names he had not bothered to remember he did not have any such connection

at all with anyone which might lead anyone to kidnap and ask for ransom. But

why was he again thinking about some far-fetched things when the delivery man

was going to be up here any second!!

The brain also works in weird ways. And he

could not help it at all. So he finished his coffee and then kept the mug in

the sink for the housekeeper to clean them later on. And his doorbell buzzed.

Oberon went and opened the door to only find a smiling simple looking man who

was definitely not from this country.

“Good morning Sir. I have a delivery for

you and I am really sorry to bother you so early in the morning,” said the man

with a congenial smile on his face and Oberon smiled back and mumbled a good

morning.

“The package is from your father Sir Cedric

Hunter. I hope that it will find you in good health,” said the man and it took

all his control to not drop the package and envelope from his hands.