The Prime Minister's residence had returned to silence after the call ended.
But far away—
in a private office high above a global financial district—
another conversation had already begun.
Arthur stood near a glass wall overlooking the city.
His expression was calm.
But his eyes burned with anger.
His phone was still in his hand.
"He cut the call."
His voice was cold.
Behind him, a woman sat quietly.
Elegant.
Composed.
Albert's father's first wife.
Arthur's mother.
She watched him carefully.
"You sound surprised."
Arthur turned.
"I am not surprised."
"I am insulted."
He walked toward the table slowly.
"My own brother…"
"…walks into a Prime Minister's office…"
"…and challenges me."
His mother remained calm.
"You allowed it."
Arthur stopped.
"What?"
She continued.
"You underestimated him."
Arthur clenched his jaw.
"He is nothing without the family."
She shook her head slightly.
"No."
"He is dangerous because he does not depend on the family."
Arthur looked at her silently.
She leaned forward slightly.
"You built power through inheritance."
"He built power alone."
The words hit harder than Arthur expected.
He turned away.
"That doesn't change anything."
His mother smiled faintly.
"It changes everything."
Arthur looked back.
"You want me to destroy him?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"Not destroy."
"Control."
Arthur frowned.
"How?"
She stood up slowly.
"This is no longer a family matter."
"This is business."
She walked closer to him.
"You do not attack him physically."
"You don't fight him like an enemy."
She placed a hand on the table.
"You outplay him."
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"Business warfare."
She nodded.
"Yes."
"Take his opportunities."
"Block his deals."
"Control the systems he depends on."
She paused.
"And force him into a position where he has no choices left."
Arthur thought for a moment.
Then he smiled slightly.
"So we turn this into a corporate war."
His mother nodded.
"Exactly."
Arthur looked back at the city.
"Good."
"Because if Albert wants to challenge me…"
"…then I will show him what real power looks like."
Meanwhile—
back in India—
Albert stood alone on the balcony of his hotel.
The city lights of Delhi stretched endlessly before him.
He held a glass in his hand, staring into the distance.
Because unlike Arthur—
Albert knew something his family did not.
The truth about the Unknown Architect.
The truth about the Sleeper.
The truth about what was coming next.
And this war—
between two brothers—
was only the beginning.
Because whoever controlled the secret of the architect…
would control something far greater than money.
Something that could change the world itself.