Javed had managed to survive the watch interrogation by the skin of his teeth, claiming it was an heirloom from his late grandfather that his mother had finally handed down for his graduation. Martin had backed him up with a smooth, authoritative nod, leaving David with just enough doubt to drop the subject—though a lingering flicker of curiosity remained in his eyes.
By Friday evening, the estate was transformed into a glittering sanctuary for the city’s elite.
The pre-gala cocktail mixer was in full swing. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over two hundred high-society guests sipping vintage champagne, their laughter echoing through the grand parlor. Javed was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit that fit his shoulders like a second skin, carrying a tablet and pretending to double-ch
