[Sequel of Warm Love, hence can't be read as a standalone.]
In the first phase, Reyansh concealed a web of mysteries, but as they stand face to face once more, it's Kiraz who holds the tantalizing secrets waiting to be unveiled. These hidden truths...
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I underestimated my instinct.
While I am usually a practical person who goes with logic, sometimes my intuitions lead me down a path that not only heightens my reflexes to formulate a plan effortlessly but also alleviates the hurdles and losses that come as risks. I do like getting involved in stakes until the consequences are upon me.
Not my woman, not my empire, and not my men.
I had eradicated every risk my instincts happened to make me aware of.
That calls out for the unease settled on me since last night. Sleep hadn't welcomed me naturally; the unease had left me tossing and turning the whole night. Not even Kiraz's arms bestowed any relief upon me. Like the talk of instinct, it screamed out to me that something off had come biting my ass.
Somebody, or the fucker who has been trying to mess with me, attacked the warehouse when my men least expected it. They had an open shoot, bombing a subsidiary adjoining which stockpiled drugs worth some hefty billions. Worst of all, they were to be deported to Russia, to Zyran Zakharov.
Fuck.
That bastard is not going to stop making me hear the end of it. I can always pull some favors and replenish the stock, but that will take time. Especially since the cargo was supposed to be deported today at ten o'clock at night. Zakharov was supposed to receive it right after an estimated 32-day calculation in Novorossiysk. However, this has subsequently delayed the process and caused another headache.
Not only do I need to arrange the required stock, but I also need to find a way to transport them within the due time. Air transport asks for too many security hassles and is not cost-effective with a seventy-five percent chance of failure. The risk is too much compared to marine shipping.
My jaw clenches. Throwing Tavir out of the caretaker position at the warehouse was a bad decision, and somewhere I knew it. If not for the act of his betrayal, making me question his loyalty, I wouldn't have dismissed him. Looks like it cost someone loyal their life.
I dialed his number, bringing the phone closer to my ear as I stood on the deck. The wind fluttered my shirt, tousling my hair. The call connected on the second ring, and I heard some shuffling noise before he spoke, "Yes, Boss," diligently.
"Stay ready with a car near the port. You need to drop them at Hussain."
"Okay, boss. How far are you?"
I flicked my wrist, "I will be there in ten."
With a subtle "okay," he cut the call. Pocketing my phone, I turned on my feet to go and check on them. My feet skidded to a halt as I saw a familiar figure gazing down at the shimmering water below. Her hair was pulled back in a middle partition secured by a clip at the back, the ends twisted in natural curls that danced with the breeze. The wind fluttered the hem of her sundress, revealing a bare thigh, and I had to clench my jaw to resist the urge to sweep her onto my shoulder and lose myself in her.
