The Royal Orchid was everything a private club should be. Discreet. Elegant. Expensive.
Aarohi walked through the doors in a deep burgundy gown that clung to her body like a second skin. Her diamonds were real. Her clutch held a recording device no bigger than her thumbnail. Her hair fell in waves down her back.
The maître d' greeted her by name.
"Mrs. Raichand. Welcome. Mr. Raichand informed us you would be joining us this evening."
"Thank you. I am meeting a friend. Karan Khurana. Has he arrived?"
The maître d' nodded. "Mr. Khurana is in the library. Shall I escort you?"
"That will not be necessary. I know the way."
She walked through the club, her heels silent on the thick carpets. The walls were lined with books that had never been read. The air smelled of whiskey and wealth.
She found Karan in the library, seated in a leather armchair by the fire. A glass of scotch rested on the table beside him. He looked up when she entered, and his smile was slow and satisfied.
"Mrs. Raichand. This is a surprise."
"I wanted to see you."
"Did you?"
She sat in the chair across from him. Crossing her legs. Leaning back. Letting him look at her.
"I have been thinking about your offer," she said.
Karan's smile widened. "And?"
"And I am interested. But I need to know more. I need to know what you are offering. What you are planning. What happens after the Chairman dies."
Karan leaned forward. His eyes were bright.
"The Chairman is dying. Everyone knows it. When he goes, the Council will fracture. There will be a war for control." He paused. "I intend to win that war."
"How?"
"I have been building alliances for years. Khanna. Volkov. The Surgeon's replacement." He named names. Powerful names. Names that made Aarohi's blood run cold. "When the time comes, I will have the votes. I will have the power. And I will have you at my side."
She smiled. It took every ounce of her control.
"And what about the Chairman? What happens to him?"
Karan's smile faded. "The Chairman is old. He is weak. He has outlived his usefulness."
"Are you planning to kill him?"
Karan did not answer. He did not need to. His silence was answer enough.
Aarohi stood up. She walked to the window and looked out at the city lights.
"You are asking me to betray the Chairman."
"I am asking you to choose the winning side."
She turned to face him.
"I need proof. Evidence that you can deliver what you promise. Documents. Recordings. Something I can take to the other Council members." She tilted her head. "You understand. I cannot risk everything on your word alone."
Karan stood up. He walked to a painting on the wall and pressed a hidden latch. The painting swung open, revealing a safe.
"Watch carefully," he said. "This is the only time I will show you."
He entered the combination. The safe opened. Inside were files. Folders. Drives.
"Everything you need is here," he said. "Alliances. Financial records. Communication logs. Enough to prove that I am the future of the Council."
Aarohi's heart pounded. The recording device in her clutch was capturing everything.
"You keep all of this in a safe?"
"I keep it where I can protect it." He closed the safe and swung the painting back into place. "Now. Do you believe me?"
She walked back to her chair and sat down.
"I believe you," she said. "But I need more than belief. I need results."
Karan sat across from her. His eyes were hungry.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to deliver Khanna to me. Alive. I want to question him about the hospital bombing. About his role in the Syndicate." She leaned forward. "Do that, and I am yours."
Karan smiled. "Consider it done."