When he finished, she was quiet for a long time. She had not interrupted him once — she collected information completely before she responded to it. This was not a common quality.
"The CCTV footage," she said finally. "You pulled it this morning."
"Yes."
"My father's security team assessed that incident as opportunistic."
"I know. I disagree."
"Why should I trust your assessment over theirs?"
"You shouldn't, based on this conversation," he said. "You could ask your driver — the one who noticed the brake fluid. Ask him what the cut looked like and whether it appeared to him like the work of someone who knew what they were doing. He's the one who was there."
Something moved in her expression. She had not been told this detail — that the cut was professional. Her father had protected her from the full picture, and she had known something was being managed, and here was the confirmation.
"He didn't tell me it was deliberate," she said. Quietly.
"He is afraid for you," Arjun said. "People who are afraid make the mistake of thinking information is a threat. Usually the opposite is true."
She looked at him for a long moment. Then: "What do you want to do?"
"Observe your routine for a week without changing it. After a week I'll have a better picture and can tell you what I actually recommend."
"Just observe."
"Just observe. You go about your life exactly as you normally would. And if I say no?"
"Then I thank you for your time and tell your father that his daughter declined and he needs to respect that. It's her life." He said it flatly, not as a strategy. He meant it, and she seemed to hear that.
She looked at him for another long moment. Outside, a car horn. Kapil returning with chai that neither of them had thought about since the conversation started.
"One week," she said. "Observe, don't interfere. If you try to manage my schedule or tell me where I can and can't go, I'll end it immediately."
"Understood."
