~She couldn't let go of the case; now he can't let go of her~
Hadassah Moor is a young black investigator, dedicated to taking down corrupt businessmen and exposing nefarious enterprises. But the star aims too high when she goes after Orian Moon, th...
That was the most complicated shower experience. Ever.
I take the white towel off the glass door, drying off. When I'm done, I wrap it around myself, taking another to lace it around my drenched coils. Yet another thing I needed from my luggage: my own hair products and my bonnet.
I swing the bathroom door open—I nearly jump out of my skin.
Orian swivels around, a few meters from the ensuite. He keeps his eyes on me, never once looking down.
"You ever heard of knocking?"
He looks around deliberately. "This is my house."
Clutching onto the towel for dear life, I cock my head to the side. "You say that like I asked to be here?"
"You were asking for something when you stole from Gaza."
And clearly it will haunt me until the end of my days. "What do you want? If it's to check my progress. I'm almost halfway."
He shakes his head. "Get dressed. I'll send in someone to pack a suitcase. We're leaving."
I frown at him. "Leave where?"
"Leaving the country."
***
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The car door opens. I exit. Welcomed by the brine of the sea, its salt-scented breath imbued in the winds. Torin and Orian follow out, chauffeured to a private dock with his escort of armed men. We head inside and Orian leads the way to a berth facing open sea. A midnight black yacht, the same size if not bigger than Gaza's. Talk about déjà vu.
"We're travelling by... boat?"
"What's the matter?" Torin asks in a teasing tone. "Bringing up bad memories?"
Ignoring him, I set my stare on Orian. He looks back at me.
"What? Couldn't afford a private jet?"
He scoffs and boards the boat.
"Zenith owns an entire airline," he says, as if to defend his brother's pride. "He simply hates flying."
I free a snort. "Afraid of flying?"
"That a joke?" he asks with an almost disgusted expression. "The man fears nothing. There's a reason people like Gaza are fond of travelling through international waters."
I glance back at the guards, all of them hauling baggage. Torin nods to the yacht impatiently. We board. Not surprised, it is the epitome of luxury, an extravagant superyacht just boasting wealth. The captain and crew members, all attired in matching uniforms, are lined up in the front entrance. Orian instructs one of them to show me to my cabin. He and Torin walk off with a few of his guards.
