In a tall, shiny hotel building, inside one of the most expensive suites, a mature girl with long blue hair and sharp black eyes sat on a fancy chair. She was painting her nails red, but her mind wasn't on them at all.
Her hand moved slowly, as if on autopilot. She kept glancing at her phone every few seconds.
Her eyes were cold. Calm. But inside, she was growing impatient.
The kidnappers should've called by now.
They should've already finished the job.
They should've already ruined Qiao Li.
What's taking so long? she thought, tapping her fingers on the table.
Just then—Ring!
Her phone lit up.
She snatched it up fast and put it to her ear.
"Was the mission done?" she asked, voice sharp like a knife.
There was a short silence on the other end. Then the man spoke, a little breathless.
"Yeah. It's done."
The girl's eyes stayed still. Her hand paused midair.
"Good," she said slowly. "Send me the video."
But the man didn't say anything for a second.
Then he laughed.
