Avery's heart hammered in her chest as the knife pressed harder against her ribs.
"Move," the voice commanded. It wasn't Arjun. This voice was rougher, unfamiliar.
Emergency lights flickered on, casting eerie red shadows across the ballroom. People were shouting, confused, trying to find their way in the dim light.
"Avery?" Rohan's voice cut through the chaos. He was close. Too close.
"Don't answer him," the man with the knife warned. "Or I start stabbing."
Avery bit her lip to keep silent as the man pulled her backward through the crowd. People bumped into them in the darkness, too panicked to notice what was happening.
They reached a side door. The man kicked it open and shoved her through.
The hallway beyond was empty and dark. Only one emergency light flickered weakly at the far end.
"Who are you?" Avery finally found her voice. "What do you want?"
"Shut up and walk." He pushed her forward, the knife never leaving her back.
They climbed a service stairwell, going up. Second floor. Third floor. Fourth. Avery's mind raced. Where was Marcus? Where was security? Where was Rohan?
Finally, they reached the roof access door. The man kicked it open.
Cold night air hit Avery's face. The Seattle skyline glittered around them, beautiful and indifferent to her terror.
And standing in the center of the rooftop, illuminated by moonlight, was Arjun.
"Excellent work, Derek," Arjun said smoothly. "You can go now."
The man—Derek—hesitated. "My payment?"
"Will be wired tomorrow. As agreed." Arjun's voice turned cold. "Now leave. Unless you want to become a liability."
Derek practically ran for the stairwell, leaving Avery alone with Arjun.
"Hello, Avery," Arjun said pleasantly, as if they'd met for coffee. "Sorry about the dramatic entrance. But you and my dear cousin have been so hard to get alone."
"The police will be looking for me," Avery said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Rohan knows—"
"Rohan knows nothing. By the time he realizes you're gone, this will all be over." Arjun walked closer. "You embarrassed me down there. That speech about heart and charity? Very touching. Also very stupid."
"What do you want?"
"What I've always wanted. The company. My birthright. Everything that should have been mine." His face twisted with bitterness. "But that senile old man gave it all to Rohan. Perfect Rohan. Golden boy Rohan. Rohan who gets everything handed to him while I work twice as hard for half the recognition."
"So this is about jealousy?"
"This is about JUSTICE!" Arjun shouted, then collected himself. "But you've complicated things. If Rohan stays married to you for six months, he gets everything. So I need you gone."
"You're going to kill me." It wasn't a question.
"Kill you? No, no, no." Arjun smiled, and it was worse than anger. "I'm going to make you disappear. There's a private plane waiting at Boeing Field. By morning, you'll be in a very remote part of South America. No passport. No money. No way home. By the time—if—you're ever found, the six months will be up. The will becomes void. I inherit everything."
"Rohan will find me."
"Rohan will be too busy dealing with the scandal. The wife who ran away. Who took his money and disappeared. I've already planted evidence. Bank transfers to offshore accounts in your name. Emails to a 'secret boyfriend' in Brazil. By tomorrow, the entire world will think you played him."
Avery's stomach dropped. It was brilliant. Evil, but brilliant.
"You're insane."
"I'm thorough." Arjun checked his watch. "The plane leaves in twenty minutes. Derek will take you to the airfield. I'd say it's been a pleasure, but we both know that's a lie."
He turned to leave.
"Wait," Avery called out. "Just tell me one thing. Anjali. Did you really kill her?"
Arjun stopped. Slowly, he turned back around.
"Anjali Sharma," he said thoughtfully. "Beautiful girl. Too curious for her own good. She found evidence of my... financial arrangements. Threatened to go to the authorities." He shrugged. "I couldn't allow that."
"So you tampered with her brakes."
"It was supposed to look like an accident. And it did. Until Priya started making noise. But she could never prove anything." Arjun smiled coldly. "And now, neither can you."
"Actually," a new voice said from the stairwell entrance, "she doesn't have to."
Detective Sarah Chen stepped onto the rooftop, gun drawn. Behind her, three more officers emerged.
Arjun's face went white. "What—how—"
"You should have checked your boutonniere," Chen said. "That little white flower? It's been recording everything you've said for the past five minutes."
Avery looked down at her own dress and realized—the corsage Rohan had pinned on her before they left. She'd forgotten about it.
It had been a wire all along.
"That's not admissible!" Arjun sputtered. "I didn't consent to being recorded!"
"Actually, Washington is a one-party consent state. As long as one person in the conversation knows about the recording, it's perfectly legal." Chen smiled. "And Mrs. Rathore knew."
More footsteps on the stairs. Rohan burst through the door, followed by Marcus and more security.
"Avery!" Rohan rushed to her, pulling her into his arms. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"I'm fine," she said, shaking. "I'm okay."
"Arjun Rathore," Detective Chen announced, "you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit kidnapping, attempted kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, and the murder of Anjali Sharma. You have the right to remain silent..."
As they handcuffed Arjun, he looked at Rohan with pure hatred. "This isn't over, cousin. I have lawyers. I have money. I'll be out by morning."
"No," Rohan said quietly. "You won't. Because this time, we have everything. Your confession. Your hired man downstairs already cooperating. Bank records of payments to Derek. And most importantly, the truth about Anjali."
Arjun lunged forward, but the officers held him back. "I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU BOTH IN THAT WAREHOUSE!"
"Yeah," Detective Chen said dryly. "You should really stop confessing to crimes. It makes my job too easy."
They dragged Arjun away, still screaming threats.
Finally, the rooftop was quiet except for the wind.
Rohan cupped Avery's face with both hands. "When the lights went out and I couldn't find you, I thought—" His voice cracked. "I thought I'd lost you."
"You wired me," Avery said. "You knew this would happen."
"I hoped it wouldn't. But I had to be prepared." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry I put you in danger."
"You saved me. Again."
"We saved each other." He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "It's over, Avery. It's finally over."
But as they held each other on that rooftop, neither of them noticed the figure watching from a neighboring building.
Priya Sharma lowered her binoculars, a strange expression on her face.
Justice for Anjali was done.
But her own revenge? That was just beginning.