Chapter 7 Mistrust

Ardhan choked when he heard the question from the figure in front of him, a quite familiar voice echoing in his ears. The two men stared at each other. "What does Mr. Ryan mean by asking that? "This is my company file; this is mine," Ardhan answered seriously.

"Calm down, Mr. Ardhan, I didn't mean to –"

"Excuse me, sir, I have to go immediately," interrupted Ardhan, who continued walking.

"Mr. Ardhan, where are you going?" Prama asked when he saw his business partner walking quickly towards the parking lot. Ardhan ignored the question, he remained true to his original purpose. Prama didn't give up, he approached Ardhan while wearing his helmet. "Where are you going, sir? Is there something important?"

"I just want to deliver the files to my boss, he wants to know whether there is fraud or not," Ardhan answered as calmly as possible, even though his heart was thundering.

"Fraud?" Prama asked, and his face changed.

"Ah, I mean, it was a mistake, sir," said Ardhan. "I wrote down numbers or misreported other things."

"Mr. Ardhan, in accordance with our office rules, Business partners cannot carelessly report project activities before our work is finished."

Ardhan took a deep breath, and the next second he looked at Prama's face as calmly as possible. "Okay, sir, I will follow the rules of Mr. Prama's company," said the man. Ardhan chose the option not to fight Prama, but there were still many ways to report his colleague's actions to his superiors.

As long as the evidence is still in his hands, he is free to report the matter at any time. He then followed Prama to the study, and Ardhan hurriedly put the file in his bag.

"Mr. Ardhan, has anyone touched my work desk?" Prama asked. Ardhan ignored the question; he pretended to be busy with his work. "Mr. Ardhan, look who came here?" Prama continued, and he approached his colleague's work desk.

"How are you, sir?"

"Did Mr. Ardhan see other people looking for something on my desk?"

"No, sir, no one has come here since then," said Ardhan. "Why, sir?"

"It's okay," said Prama, before turning the man's body to look at Ardhan's work desk. He seemed suspicious that his colleague had done it. "May I see the report earlier, sir?" he said.

"Why does Mr. Prama want to know about the report? Do you suspect me?"

"For the common good, sir. May I see?" asked Prama once again.

Ardhan got the report file requested by Prama. Luckily, he had time to exchange Prama's report file with another report. Ardhan had thought that sooner or later the rich man in front of him would suspect him.

"What is Mr. Prama actually looking for? Is something missing or what?" Ardhan provoked him; he wanted to know the man's answer.

Prama answered with a smile as he returned the file and then sat back at his desk. Likewise, Ardhan is struggling with his work but remains alert.

Time is moving faster; now it's time to go home. Neither Ardhan nor Prama chose not to speak; they left the room in silence. Likewise, when he was in the parking lot, Prama went home first while Ardhan was trying to start his motorcycle engine.

After several attempts, his motorbike finally started, and slowly but surely he started to leave the project area. Along the way home, Ardhan's motorbike broke down several times. Like now, he was forced to push the battered green man towards the workshop, which was not far from his current position.

"Sir, please, my motorbike has broken down," he said to one of the mechanics.

"Ask for this pension, sir," said another mechanic. Ardhan could only smile at their words. He sat on a bench provided by the workshop while analyzing their eyeballs. Everyone in that place had bright blue eyes.

Until a female customer came who had the same eyeballs as Kinanti. Ardhan felt interested; he wanted to investigate women who had two-colored eyes. But just as the man spoke, the woman looked at him with an expression of displeasure. Instantly, Ardhan's guts disappeared somewhere.

"Sir, the motorcycle has been serviced. Nothing was damaged; it's just that the motorcycle was tired of working. "It's better to just replace it with a new one," said the mechanic politely. Unlike the girl, she was busy laughing at Ardhan's sad situation.

"I'm trying to replace it, sir, but motorbikes are not cheap," said Ardhan.

"That's for your own good; maybe tomorrow this motorbike will be in a much worse condition," continued the senior mechanic.

"The elite look of changing motorbikes is difficult," the woman's great-granddaughter quipped at the man.

Ardhan ignored the woman's words. He reached into his pocket and took out some money to pay for repairs to his vehicle. The next second, he cleared his throat, ready to leave the place.

But suddenly, someone interrupted him. "Sir, my grandfather had glasses like that," said the girl as she patted Ardhan on the shoulder. Of course, Ardhan turned to the source of the sound.

"Seriously, sis? Where is your grandfather? I want to meet," said Ardhan enthusiastically. He didn't expect that annoying girl to make him meet the figure he had been looking for all this time.

"Why meet my grandfather? Do you know my grandfather? Want to upgrade your glasses?" said the girl questioningly.

"Anyway, I have to meet Grandpa, sis. Where is he now?"

"Mmm, usually my grandfather is at ..."