“Boss,” he greeted as he entered my office. “I sent you—”
He was interrupted by the sound of his phone.
“Mrs. Liza,” he said, looking up from the device.
“She’s about to leave,” I mentioned, sighing as I sat back.
“Have you guys gotten everything?” I inquired as I rose to my feet.
“Yes, boss. We got different options as you requested.”
We both left the office.
“I’m leaving,dearbrother,” Liza announced, smiling up at me as Sergei and I descended the stairs.
She stood with her back to the couch while Alina bent over the baby seat or whatever it was called, engrossed in a conversation with the toddler whose giggles were loud enough for me to hear.
“Thanks for coming,” I recited.
“I didn’t come for you. No need to give me that robotic appreciation,” she remarked, laughing as she turned to Alina and her kid.
That was when Alina stood up straight. Our eyes met in that instant. But, for the first time, she looked away.
“We’ll be seeing you soon. Very soon,” Liza told her as she lifted the handle of the seat.
“Have a safe trip,” Alina answered, a small smile on her face.
As both women walked to the entrance doors, I noticed the transparent white rectangular plate on the table.
“Did you also buy carrots?” I asked, my tone low.
“No, boss,” Sergei answered. “Mrs. Liza brought them. For Mrs. Alina.”
The almost silent hum of Liza’s car sounded at the same time Alina opened the entrance door, coming back into the living room.
I felt my phone vibrate, and I turned to Sergei. “Show her to her room; the one in my suite. Ask Hans to ask what she wants from everything you bought and serve her. Give her anything she wants.”
“Yes, boss.”
Turning around, I went up the stairs, picking up my call. “Don’t tell me you’re not in Riyadh yet…”
**********
When I looked up at the clock across my desk and saw that it was 6:55 pm, I stood up from my chair. I walked out of the office and headed out of my suite. I found Sergei.
“Sergei,” I called, cornering him at the intersection of my suite and the main hallway.
“Boss,” he answered. “I thought you were still on a call.”
“Who is it? Who tried to slip her the fucking phone?”
“We don’t have his name or any other basic details, but,” he brought a photograph out of his inner pocket. “A courier from Morozov’s old network.”
It was a photograph of a guy lying in a dumpster.
“He became a loose end, and they cut him off,” Sergei added. “He was found dead two hours after the attempt.”
“Bring Alina to my office.”
