42
??? POV
I sat by my home office desk, slipping a glass of Château Lafite Rothschild wine. I sighed in content, leaning back in my seat and twirling the drink in my hands. Everything was going as I planned and that was all I needed.
My phone rung and I smiled. Finally.
I picked it up.
"What have you got for me?" I asked the person on the other side.
"I've been trying to get as close to her as I could sir but she's tougher than I thought."
"I know that. She must be. I've been doing a lot of background checks on her," I said, flipping through the different but blurry pictures of girls. The only thing I knew was a place they called the safe house. I had no idea what they do there but I was going to find out. "The only thing you need to know is her name isn't Dalia like you'd told me."