At the moment, there was nothing left for us to do except wait for the results of the surveillance. That could take days, or even weeks.
Everything returned to its usual course. I worked; in the evenings, Theron and I spent time in silence. Sometimes he argued over the phone and even left on business. And I, as usual, did not ask much. I was allowed to sort through part of the documents at home, so I did not have time to be bored.
But one new element appeared. Or rather, one new working detail. Theron began to call me to meetings more often as Ostin's assistant. I considered it a small shift in our arrangement and in his trust.
And everything, it would seem, was fine. But the absence of sex, or even kisses, began to trouble me more and more. It was very strange. Before, he always expressed these things: if he wanted to—he kissed, if he wanted to—he fucked. And he did not ask, did not warn.
And now it was as if I had turned into an ordinary, convenient pillow. And nothing more.
One morning, Theron and I were heading to the office together. With one hand, he held my hand on his thigh, and with the other, he scrolled through messages on his phone.
"That damn man" Every time, I cursed it. All these touches and care kept breaking through my wall more and more. This wasn't just sex…
Should I sit on him myself and suggest we blow off some steam properly? Or does he… I did not continue the stream of my thoughts. I definitely might not like them.
"We need to sign the final contract urgently," Theron interrupted my thoughts at once, as if he sensed that I needed to break out of them. "Ostin is already waiting for us."
"Mm," I tried to pull my hand out of his and check whether all my ultraviolet seals were with me. But he did not allow it, only tightened his grip around my hand.
I looked at him skeptically, and he smiled slightly. And then… he brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
I froze from such tenderness. Theron… Theron Vescari had just kissed my hand.
A flutter, as if I were a teenager, rose inside me, but I immediately shoved it back down.
But he noticed. He smiled with satisfaction and released my hand.
I checked all my materials in my bag and prepared my notebook. Two minutes were enough for me to forget that gentle and so unfamiliar gesture from him.
As soon as we pulled up to the restaurant already familiar to me, the driver opened the door for me. As a rule, at work it was the driver or Ostin who did it, or I jumped out myself without waiting for courtesy. I was not used to such treatment and was unlikely to ever get used to it.
I recognized the hostess girl who, it seemed, like in another life had tried to belittle me here. Now there was genuine shock on her face at first, and then envy followed it. She could use some work on controlling her emotions.
I moved after Theron like a shadow. As soon as we returned to work, he became my boss, and I his subordinate. We strictly and demonstratively maintained that hierarchy.
Of that romantic moment and the kiss on my hand, it was as if nothing remained. In front of me walked a man everyone looked at and discussed. A man they were afraid to approach. And most likely, if he approached them first, they would immediately bow their heads.
As soon as I caught our direction, I saw Vel and Ostin at the table. So that was the purchase he had been talking about. That damned building for Amy. A drop of irritation mixed with disappointment fell into my heart.
I froze. I wanted to slap myself so I would pull myself together and start controlling my emotions.
Theron… and his tenderness, his care. They were breaking me. As if exposing me to this world again. No, I would not allow it.
For a moment, I closed my eyes as we walked to the table and searched inside myself for my mask. The one that did not care about anyone or anything. The one to whom it did not matter what others did or said. The one to whom it did not matter who looked at me and how, or how anyone treated me.
I bit the insides of my cheeks and tried to steady myself. And finally, I succeeded.
"A pleasant meeting," Vel greeted Theron falsely.
But he did not even respond to the outstretched hand and simply sat down opposite. Ostin stood, immediately pulled out a chair for me in invitation, and then took his place beside Theron.
"Oh, dear Mirey, you're here too?" he asked in surprise.
"And what is surprising about that?" Theron cut in coldly and sharply. "You know she has been handling this contract and the inspection from the very beginning."
The remark was so subtle and so precise that Vel seemed to freeze, not knowing what to reply.
Theron even dropped all courteous forms of address and immediately switched to "you." Could something have happened that I did not know about? Even before, when there had been genuine disgust toward him, he had always spoken professionally.
And now it was as if he was crushing him with his status.
"The contract?" Theron continued, even colder.
I had almost forgotten this side of him. That memory from my torture flashed in my mind. Cold, calculating, indifferent predator—that was what Theron was like.
"Ostin has already reviewed it. I think we have settled and confirmed that the building is legally clean and there are no more contracts," Vel continued, less confidently now.
While his lawyer sat almost behind him and remained obediently silent.
Ostin handed me the contract. I took out a case with my seals from my bag and began reading through the contract, placing marks.
While I was checking, a waitress approached us and asked for orders. Ostin instructed that a table be set separately for three persons.
Again and again, my eyes ran over the documents. In the background, I heard some objections and criticism from Vel. But they stopped just as quickly.
"Everything is in order," I handed the contract to Theron after the final seal.
But then I caught Theron's angry gaze on me. Again? What happened this time?
I looked away straight ahead, completely ignoring him, as before.
Next, Ostin took out our copy of the contract and handed it to Vel's lawyer. He quickly scanned it. Vel signed our copy, and Theron signed Vel's copy. He almost threw it toward Vel and stood up without a word.
Ostin carefully took our contract and also stood. I hurriedly gathered my seals and began to do the same.
Vel sprang up.
"I hope we will meet again. It is profitable to make deals with you," and once more he tried to extend his hand.
"That is unlikely."
Theron publicly ignored him again, and now it seemed like deliberate humiliation.
I hurried after him and Ostin into another hall where there were more private tables.
These two tall men, seriously? They could at least walk slower. My steps were already smaller than theirs.
With my bag and gray suit, I looked so ridiculous trying to catch up with them that I wanted to throw a shoe at them.
We approached a table with a bottle of wine and appetizers. And only then did Theron finally turn toward me and notice that I could not keep up. But he was still angry. What the hell could have happened? I hated when he looked at me like that.
He pulled out a chair, inviting me. I looked at him skeptically, then at the chair. I suddenly wanted, out of spite, to sit on another one so that the anger on his face would turn into complete chaos.
Behind me, I heard Ostin's heavy sigh as he watched our duel of glances and rubbed the bridge of his nose in fatigue. It was a signal not to provoke him. And I obediently sat on the offered chair.
Theron took the seat opposite. His eyes seemed to shout some silent words I did not understand.
Ostin took out a small black box resembling a power bank and placed it on the table. I looked at it questioningly.
"A jammer," he clarified calmly, seeing my question in my eyes. "Phones, wiretapping," he added, realizing I had not immediately understood.
"Is it really that serious?" I asked, surprised.
"Caution won't hurt," Theron interjected, still boring into me with that angry gaze.
I tried not to look at him. The table was immediately set for us. Theron and Ostin remained silent, waiting until all the staff had left.
"I contacted the man handling the investigation," Ostin's voice was slightly lower than usual. "He said he has information for us. But he said he would pass it on in person. And he requested a higher fee."
Theron frowned.
"He says the information is worth the extra payment," Ostin clarified.
"Meeting in person is dangerous," I immediately intervened.
"Agreed," Theron said. "Offer him triple the fee. But our man will collect the documents, and we'll conduct the meeting over a call."
"Understood. I'll inform our man right away," Ostin replied.
Ostin and Theron began to eat.
I looked at the food, and it clearly did not suit me. I was used to eating a sandwich and drinking coffee. And here—steak and wine.
"Eat," Theron snapped at me.
I looked at the steak, and it clearly did not stir my appetite. But I had no desire to argue or be capricious over ordinary food. I cut small pieces, hoping that while I dragged it out, they would finish eating and we would simply leave.
I did not lift my gaze to Ostin or Theron and pushed a mushroom around my plate. And again, Ostin's heavy sigh.
I glanced up—he was rubbing his temple with his index finger, while Theron, arms crossed on the table and pressed to his lips, was watching me.
I had not seen that evaluating look from him in a long time.
"May I take care of business while you haven't started your battles yet?" Ostin asked wearily.
Theron simply waved him off.
And, having received permission, he began to gather his briefcase and headed for the exit.
I jumped up. Should I leave with him?
"Sit," Theron ordered coldly.
I dropped back into my chair with a look that said, "What now?"
A waitress approached us.
"Coffee, and make a ham sandwich," Theron said at once, more softly.
The waitress's surprise was noticeable. And I realized it was for me.
"Coffee with milk will be enough," I immediately intervened.
Theron nodded in agreement, and the waitress disappeared.
He continued to stare at me.
"What?" I broke the silence first.
"That's what I wanted to ask you. Did something happen?" his voice was calmer now, without a trace of dominance or command.
"No."
What the hell was he talking about? His moods swung again.
"Then where does that empty look on your face come from again?" he asked, more quietly, almost gently.
I looked at him and at the same time glanced around, not understanding what he meant and trying to see if anyone else could hear him.
They brought me coffee, and again we waited until we were alone.
"Everything is fine," I finally answered. "It's you who's always angry for some reason."
I shrugged and started on my coffee.
He still did not take his eyes off me while I drank.
"Are you bothered by why I'm buying that building?" he asked.
"No," I shrugged again.
And truly, I no longer cared whether he was buying it for her or for something else. That version of Mirey had really come back.
He stood and moved to the chair beside me.
I immediately jumped up with my cup of coffee, without interrupting, stepped two paces away from him, and continued sipping. And glancing around as well.
"Mr. Vescari, keep your distance from female employees."
I tried to finish my coffee as quickly as possible.
He stood and began moving toward me, and I circled the table, trying not to spill the coffee.
We circled around the table, and the corners of his lips held a smirk. He was clearly amused by the whole situation. On the second round, I finished my coffee and grabbed my bag.
"We can continue working."
I straightened, as if showing that the chase was over.
But that clearly did not concern him. He stepped closer, and before I could move away, he gently pulled me to him by my jacket. It reminded me of how he always used to pull me by my coat.
"I need to buy out the place so that it won't be accessible because of that situation…"
"Everything is fine, honestly," I interrupted his explanation. "I don't care."
"But I do."
He leaned lower, searching for something in my eyes.
"That empty Mirey… she—"
He did not finish.
"Wasn't it you who told me to hide all my emotions from others and leave them only for you?" I smiled at him like the victor of our battles.
"You're right."
He continued to look.
And I could not take my eyes off his lips. I think I had already forgotten what they tasted like. Irritation began to rise inside me again.
"Let's go."
He turned and, taking my hand, led me toward the exit.
What the hell was he doing?
I tried to pull my hand free, but he did not let go, only pulled me toward the exit with authority. All eyes were fixed on us, and all I could do was lower my head so that, if anyone managed to take a photo, my face would not be visible.
I tried to walk, hiding behind his height and broad back.
On the way to the office, he sat satisfied, and I was surprised at how quickly he could switch from work-mode Theron to the ordinary one—the one I knew.
I should learn to switch just as quickly. And that was something I needed to work on.
"Work with the documents in my office today," he ordered.
"All right."
I mentally crossed out all my plans.
"I get angry when I can't read you and understand what's going on with you," he said quietly, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb, which once again rested on his thigh.
"I understood."
There was logic in his words. He was always used to controlling everything.
"I won't run away," I reminded him. "Even if you decide to be with her or with someone else, I won't run away."
He threw his head back and exhaled heavily.
"So—"
"Fuck," he interrupted me without opening his eyes. "Just shut up, Mirey."
I fell silent.
And that silence lasted all the way to the office.
When we were going up in the elevator, I tried to stand at a distance. The last thing I needed was for him to grab my hand just as recklessly in the office. And considering he wasn't wearing a tie, everyone here would draw conclusions. People would put two and two together.
He placed a substantial folder on the table.
"These are more distant people working for the clan, and relatives who…" he seemed to search for words, "you need to check."
It was clear he had omitted something in the explanation.
"Involved in illegal affairs, right?" I continued.
I put on my glasses and began settling into the chair, which was clearly not meant for my back.
"Yes. Very perceptive, Miss Mirey."
I felt his breath on my neck. But he immediately pulled away and went to his desk.
I immediately pulled myself together and immersed myself in the documents. There were indeed many transactions, sales, resales, buyouts. At first glance, everything looked chaotic. But similarities were visible. One, two, three—could be coincidence. But consistency could already be built into a system.
As soon as I followed the pattern I had noticed, it became easier to review and find them. And they truly were there.
"May I look at previous documents?" I asked, lifting my head and realizing it was already late evening.
I glanced around, but there was no one in the office. Had he stepped out?
I leaned back to let my back rest a little from that almost twisted position over the papers and closed my eyes for a moment.
About twenty minutes passed, and Theron entered the office with Ostin.
I straightened.
Theron and Ostin positioned themselves near me. In their hands was an unmarked paper package of considerable thickness, like a report.
"Really?" I froze, looking at the documents.
"Yes, exactly," Theron clarified.
Ostin took out an inconspicuous phone and placed it on the table in front of us, while Theron opened the package and took out all the papers, gradually examining one sheet after another. There were tables.
The phone rang.
Ostin answered and put it on speaker.
"We're listening," Ostin replied immediately, without greeting.
"Good afternoon. In front of you are reports of calls and messages of all fifteen girls you requested. I made notes for you—numbers of matches or messages close in meaning. All fifteen girls have one common number on their second phone. It is saved as a relative. Unfortunately, I was unable to identify the owner of the number. They always have similar messages with it about scheduling a family dinner. But each girl has a different time. You can find this in the reports."
The voice continued calmly and firmly:
"Also, all the girls, within a week, sooner or later crossed paths in cafés or other places. And as if casually chatted. Or even more closely."
The voice on the other end fell silent.
"Is that all? You mentioned a special detail for which you requested a higher fee," Ostin asked.
"Yes."
The voice on the phone paused.
"You will also find names and a report on seven girls. I marked their names in orange. On their main phone, I found one very interesting number. The same one, but for each girl it is saved differently. For some—Viv, for others—Eve. Mostly, the letters I and V prevail in the name."
He continued:
"I also requested a higher fee because I decided to check their bank transfers. And, to my surprise, seven out of the fifteen girls who are in contact with the supposed… let's call her Viv… receive substantial transfers monthly to hidden accounts. The other girls have no similar transfers."
"Is it possible to determine from whom they received these transfers?" I suddenly asked, forgetting to ask permission.
Realizing my mistake, I glanced at the men, but they only nodded in approval.
"That may take more time and more resources. Also, these transactions may be well hidden," the voice from the phone replied calmly, without surprise.
"Can we find out who the number is registered to?" I continued, as if I had received permission to ask questions.
"The number is used by a straw man who has been considered dead for three years," the informant replied immediately.
"Is there anything else we should know?" Ostin asked.
"I checked their records and histories. Everything is smooth—so smooth that I would assume their histories were perfectly fabricated by someone. Most likely, they are agents. Either governmental, or from some service. But I would advise paying attention to the seven who receive transfers. That is all."
"Thank you," Ostin ended the call.
Theron found all the girls marked in orange. Among them were Anna and her friend whom I had encountered.
"So, Mirey, you turned out to be right, and this is indeed the most convenient place for surveillance. But…"
Theron fell silent.
"It hasn't reduced the number of questions."
"We need to gather them all together."
I looked at the girls in the photos, trying to understand. But Theron was right—there were only more questions now.
"We need to come up with a reason—an event where their bosses and secretaries would be gathered. We need to see how they behave when they see each other."
"And what will we see?" Ostin asked, confused.
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I would like to see what the difference is between them. Or how these seven differ from the other eight."
"All right, let's gather them all together," Theron agreed, setting the documents aside.
"But we need a reason. One that they won't be able to question or suspect anything," I clarified, pulling the documents closer to me.
"My birthday wouldn't count as a strange reason for an invitation, would it?" Theron shot out sarcastically.
I froze.
"You have a birthday?"
"In five days. A good coincidence, isn't it?" he replied.
"Yes. Very convenient," I answered.