Upon waking, Cesare’s mind was heavy with grogginess.
As he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to realize his surroundings had completely changed since the moment he collapsed.
‘This is too BAD...’
Outwardly, he remained composed, but inside, panic simmered.
And for good reason—the situation was serious.
It was supposed to be the final day of overseas filming.
Zahir had planned to pick him up at the airport, and just before stepping into the room to fix his makeup, they’d agreed to meet there in an hour.
‘An hour must’ve passed by now, right...?’
Judging by how oddly refreshed his body felt, Cesare assumed it had.
Zahir was probably still at the airport. Waiting—yes—but almost certainly making a scene, demanding answers from anyone who would listen.
And Cesare’s phone?
Undoubtedly flooded with missed calls by now.
Anyone who knew Zahir al-Tamid would expect no less.
He always lost his cool when it came to Cesare.
