Raj stared at the text message for a moment longer before she blocked the number, turned her phone to Do Not Disturb, and tucked it back into her tote. She had no idea how her brother got her contact information, but she’d have to resource someone to find out.

When she left India and came to the US to study, he’d been one of the only people who supported her. He’d argued with their parents that he’d gone abroad to get his education, and she should be able to, as well. But then, when she didn’t want to go home to Punjab to fall in line and meet every expectation that had been laid at her feet since her birth, he’d turned his back on her. And after she’d opened RKH Collective, he’d ensured everyone else in her family did the same.

Her car slowed in front of a slate-gray building at the heart of Park Avenue.

“Here we are,” the driver said.

“Thank you. One hour.”

“I’ll be waiting for your text, ma’am.”

She stepped out of the car and into the balmy fall air. The weather meant nothing to the dramatic hustle of Midtown. Men and women in suits strode down the sidewalk with wireless earbuds and various sizes of leather bags, creating a frenetic movement that demanded everyone keep up. The sheer energy smelled like money and confirmed what she already knew: she had too much on her plate right now to lose focus on what mattered most to her.

Squaring her shoulders, she strode through the glass doors of Bharat’s office building with her tote hanging from her forearm.

The lobby was an architectural showpiece of glass and steel. Twisting pillars formed arches over a wide, oval concierge desk.

“Hello,” she said as she approached the first available attendee. “Rajneet Kaur Hothi. Here to see Mr. Ajay Singh in Bharat’s offices.”

“Just you?” the woman asked.

It wasn’t a strange question. She usually brought one of her assistants or even an executive with her, depending on the nature of the business meeting. She didn’t want to alarm anyone at RKH, though, so for the first time in years, she was on her own.

“Just me today.”

The woman took her ID, pointed a handheld camera at her for a picture, and printed out a visitor’s tag. “Elevators to the far right for floors forty-six to sixty-five. They’re expecting you.”

Raj made her way up to Bharat’s executive floor and stepped into a lobby that was encased in even more glass. A slender man of medium height in a suit and narrow black tie greeted her at the entrance.

“Ms. Hothi?” he asked, tablet in hand.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Rafael. Ajay’s EA. I can take you to him now.”