New Delhi, 2004. A horrific car accident: a Mercedes mows down five pedestrians – among them a pregnant woman. At the wheel, a twenty-two-year-old man, essentially an errand boy, dead drunk – impeccably dressed, toned, with a perfect haircut, yet still a servant, and the only one at the scene of the accident. His name is Ajay. They take him to prison, where they beat and torture him; he doesn't utter a word. After a few days in prison, the guards appear. "There has been a mistake," they tell him. "Why didn't you tell us?" they ask, while giving him hot food and his wallet, clean clothes, tea. They are remorseful, even respectful. "We didn't know you were a man of the Wadia family."

Skillfully moving between different times and perspectives, the novel The Age of Evil revolves around the wealthy, powerful, and utterly corrupt Wadia family – the young, ambitious, spoiled Sunny; his authoritarian, ruthless, and oppressive father, Bandy; and his violent, powerful, bloodthirsty uncle Vicky. Those who come close to the Wadias get entangled in their constant quest for more control, more influence and power, more land, more wealth (and sometimes, a scapegoat): Neda, a curious young journalist trapped between her profession and the pleasures of the city; Gautam Rathore, a decadent playboy who must redeem himself in the public eye; and then Ajay: a careful boy of a lower caste born into poverty whose mother sold him as an unpaid servant, who eventually found himself climbing the ranks of the Wadia family's devoted.

A complex, thrilling, sweeping page-turner of epic proportions; a story of power, devotion, revenge, and family ties that bind, torment, and kill. The first part of a major trilogy described as "The Godfather set in Indian soil."