“It’s all over now. I’m just changing out of these clothes and freshening up. Hmm... Looks like I’ll be at the airport in about an hour.”
Cesare had sounded utterly exhausted over the phone, complaining about the heat even in the evening.
That was two hours ago.
Cesare, who had promised to arrive in an hour, never showed up.
Instead, one of his bodyguards arrived in a panic, delivering alarming news to Zahir.
“...Missing?”
Zahir paced the airport lounge anxiously.
He repeated the word aloud.
Rida, who was also waiting for Cesare, flinched at the implication.
“What do you mean, ‘missing’? Did he decide to go somewhere else because he didn’t want to come here? Or...”
Zahir’s voice grew colder, his eyes sharp—an unusually fierce expression for someone who normally came across as bumbling and gentle around Cesare.
The bodyguard hesitated, as if trying to collect himself.
Finally, he stammered out a response into the tense silence.
