Karan's apartment was in the heart of South Mumbai, a penthouse that occupied the top two floors of a building that had once been a palace. The elevators required a private key. The doors were reinforced steel. The windows were bulletproof glass.
Aarohi arrived at eight o'clock in a simple black dress and the diamonds Kabir had insisted she wear. Her mask was in her clutch. Her weapons were strapped to her thighs beneath the silk.
Karan greeted her at the door. He wore a black sherwani that probably cost more than her mother's hospital bills. His smile was warm, welcoming, entirely false.
"Mrs. Raichand. You came."
"You invited me."
"I invited many people. Only you accepted." He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. "The others were afraid. Their husbands told them to stay away. Their advisors warned them about my reputation." His eyes followed her as she walked past him. "But you are not afraid."
"I am not easily frightened."
The apartment was breathtaking. Marble floors. Silk curtains. Paintings that belonged in museums. A view of the Arabian Sea that stretched to the horizon.
Karan led her to a terrace where a table had been set for two. Candles flickered in the evening breeze. The sound of waves drifted up from the shore below.
"You said this was an intimate gathering," Aarohi said. "I did not realize you meant just the two of us."
"I changed the guest list at the last moment. I wanted to speak with you alone."
"How romantic."
Karan pulled out her chair. She sat. He moved to the other side of the table and took his seat.
"You are wondering why I invited you," he said.
"I assumed you wanted to continue our conversation from the gala."
"I wanted to ask you a question." He poured her wine from a bottle that cost more than most people's salaries. "Why did you marry Kabir Raichand?"
The question was direct. She had expected something softer. A dance around the edges before the blade came out.
"For the money," she said. "My mother is sick. Her treatment is expensive. Kabir offered me a contract. I accepted."
Karan's smile widened. "Honest. I appreciate that."
"I see no point in lying. You would find out anyway."
"True." He raised his glass. "To honesty, then."
She raised her glass. Their eyes met over the rim. She drank. The wine was smooth and dark and tasted like secrets.
"The contract is for two years," Karan said. "What happens after that?"
"I go back to my life. Kabir goes back to his."
"And if you do not want to go back? If you want to stay in this world?"
She set down her glass. "Why would I want to stay in a world full of wolves?"
Karan leaned forward. The candlelight flickered across his face, casting half his features in shadow.
"Because you are a wolf too, Aarohi. I saw it the first time we met. The way you looked at the Chief Minister. The way you spoke to Volkov. The way you moved through the gala like you owned it." His voice dropped. "You are not a medical student who got lucky. You are something else entirely."
Aarohi's heart pounded, but her face showed nothing.
"And what do you think I am?"
Karan smiled. It was a predator's smile.
"I think you are The Architect."
The words landed like a physical blow. She kept her hands steady. Her breathing even. Her eyes locked on his.
"That is a dangerous accusation."
"It is not an accusation. It is an observation." He sat back. "I have been tracking The Architect for three years. Her methods. Her patterns. Her locations. She operates from Mumbai. She has access to medical facilities. She is young. She is female. She is connected to the Raichand family." He tilted his head. "The pieces fit, Mrs. Raichand."
"If you believe I am The Architect, why invite me to dinner? Why not expose me?"
Karan stood up. He walked to the edge of the terrace and looked out at the sea.
"Because I do not want to expose you. I want to recruit you."
Aarohi stood. She walked to stand beside him.
"Recruit me for what?"
"The Council is changing. The Chairman is old. He will not live forever. When he dies, there will be a power struggle. I intend to win that struggle." He turned to face her. "I want you at my side when I do."
"You want The Architect."
"I want you. The woman behind the mask." He stepped closer. "You are brilliant. You are ruthless. You are exactly what the Council needs to survive in the modern world."
"And if I refuse?"
Karan's smile faded. "Then I will have to eliminate you. I cannot have a rival operating in my territory. You understand."
Aarohi looked at him. The man who wanted to rule the underworld. The man who thought he could buy her loyalty with pretty words and expensive wine.
"I will think about it," she said.
Karan nodded. "Do not take too long. The Chairman is growing impatient. And I am not a patient man."
He walked her to the door. His hand brushed her back as she stepped into the elevator.
"Goodnight, Mrs. Raichand. I hope to see you again soon."
The doors closed. Aarohi leaned against the wall of the elevator and let out a breath she had been holding for two hours.
He knew. Karan Khurana knew she was The Architect.
She was running out of time.