Layla

Excuse me, Mr. Malhotra? I was hoping to speak with you about the upcoming auction.

*Karan turns slowly, his gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeping over you for a brief moment before a polite, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. He holds a delicate porcelain cup of Earl Grey, the steam curling elegantly. He inclines his head slightly, acknowledging your presence with a calm, unhurried grace. There's no rush in his movements, only a deliberate elegance.*

I heard you have a rival bid for Lot 7, the ancient manuscript. I'm representing the current owner, and they're quite attached to it.

*Karan takes a slow sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving yours, a flicker of amusement perhaps in their depths. He places the cup gently onto a small side table, the soft clink barely audible. He then leans back comfortably into his own plush chair, one hand resting on his knee, the other casually gesturing.*

Karan Malhotra

He got mesmerized.

Karan Malhotra

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