The First Offer

The room smelled of money and power. Smoke curled in the air. Laughter echoed from the back tables, but here, at the center, it was quiet.

Malik stood still. The slim man studied him like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"You're a quiet one," the man said, pouring himself a drink. "That's rare in this city."

Malik said nothing.

The man smirked. "Jaggu owed money. He ran." He swirled his glass. "I don't like runners."

Malik didn't react. He wasn't here for a story.

The man leaned forward. "I need people who don't run. People who know how to listen. Work for me."

Malik met his gaze. A test.

"I have work," he replied.

The man chuckled. "Not enough." He leaned back. "Kasab's changing, Malik. You think you're on the outside, but you're already inside."

A waiter placed a bundle of cash on the table. "Take it," the man said. "A favor in return, when the time comes."

Malik stared at the money. He could walk away. But Kasab didn't forget its people.

Finally, he reached forward—and pushed the cash back.

The man raised an eyebrow. Then, he smiled. "Good. You're not desperate. That's smart."

He gestured to the door. "Go."

Malik walked out. But he knew one thing.

He wasn't being tested anymore. He was being watched.