The Leo transfer was, on paper, a straightforward task.
A child. A school. A set of travel arrangements and enrollment documents that needed to be coordinated across three time zones. For someone with my organizational background, it should have taken two days at most. I had managed acquisitions worth nine figures with less administrative complexity. Moving one small boy from a Swiss-German estate to a boarding school in Zurich should not have required my full attention for an entire week.
That was precisely why Charles had given it to me.
He wanted me occupied. He wanted me close, visible, and busy enough that any movement I made outside the task would register as deviation. It was a leash disguised as a responsibility, and it was elegantly constructed. I recognized the architecture immediately, because I had helped build versions of it myself, for other people, in other rooms, on his behalf.
I accepted the assignment without comment and got to work.
