Chapter 3: The Call
1622 Words
A soft vibration interrupted the comfortable silence inside the sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom. Elena glanced at the screen of her phone before smiling.
"Speaking of busy..." She answered the call. "Hello, Amelia."
"Miss Moreau!" The cheerful voice on the other end sounded almost breathless. "Finally! I was beginning to think you abandoned me."
Elena laughed. "I've been unreachable for less than two hours."
"Exactly! That's one hundred and twenty minutes of me trying not to panic." Kael looked over, already recognizing the familiar voice.
"Tell Amelia she's exaggerating," Elena said, placing the call on speaker.
"I am not exaggerating," Amelia protested immediately. "Mr. Ashford, please tell your future—" She stopped herself so abruptly that it was almost comical. "...your... favorite business partner that she's impossible to contact."
Elena narrowed her eyes. "You almost said something."
"I absolutely did not."
"You absolutely did."
"I value my job far too much."
Kael chuckled quietly. "I think I'll stay out of this one."
"Wise decision," Amelia replied.
Elena shook her head, unable to hide her smile. "So... what's the emergency?"
"There isn't one," Amelia admitted. "I just wanted to let you know that everything has been arranged exactly according to your schedule."
Elena leaned back against the leather seat. "Go ahead."
"I've confirmed your meeting with the Zurich Development Council for Monday morning."
"Good."
"The revised design presentation has already been forwarded to the committee."
"Perfect."
"The investors from Milan requested a private meeting next week, but I told them you'd respond after returning. And..." Amelia paused dramatically. "I finally convinced Mr. Laurent's office to stop calling every thirty minutes."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Victor Laurent?"
"The very same." Elena sighed softly.
"What does he want now?"
"He keeps insisting on discussing a 'strategic collaboration.'" Kael exchanged a knowing glance with Elena.
"Tell him I'll review the proposal once I'm back."
"I already did."
"And?"
"He asked if I'd tell you it was urgent."
"It isn't."
"I figured." Amelia's voice brightened again. "Oh! I also approved the renovation budget for the Vienna boutique hotel project. The contractors wanted your final signature, but I knew exactly what you'd say."
"You approved it?"
"I followed your notes."
"You trust yourself that much?"
"I've worked for you for three years."
"Four."
"...Has it really been four?"
"It has."
"No wonder I need a vacation."
Kael laughed. "I don't think she's joking."
"I'm definitely not," Amelia replied. "Being Miss Moreau's assistant should qualify as an Olympic sport."
"Oh?"
"You color-code everything."
"It's efficient."
"You have six different calendars."
"They each have a purpose."
"You scheduled your coffee breaks."
"They're important."
"You once rescheduled a lunch meeting because the lighting inside the restaurant wasn't suitable for reviewing architectural blueprints."
"It wasn't."
Kael smiled to himself. "She's got a point."
Elena looked at him in disbelief. "I thought you were on my side."
"I am."
"You don't sound very convincing."
"I've also seen the six calendars."
A defeated sigh escaped her lips. "I surround myself with traitors."
Laughter filled the car.
For a brief moment, there were no billion-dollar corporations, demanding investors, or responsibilities waiting on the other side of the flight. Just familiar voices sharing another ordinary afternoon. When the laughter settled, Amelia spoke again, her tone noticeably gentler.
"Oh... before I forget."
"What is it?"
"I stopped by Moreau Manor this morning."
Elena straightened slightly. "How's Dad?"
There was a small pause. "He's pretending he's not worried."
Elena smiled knowingly. "So... he's worried."
"A little."
"A little?"
"Okay... a lot."
Kael quietly looked out the window, giving Elena the privacy of the moment despite the call remaining on speaker.
"He came into your office twice."
Elena's smile softened. "For what?"
"The first time, he asked if you'd already left."
"And the second?"
"He claimed he was looking for a document."
Elena laughed. "He wasn't."
"No."
"What was he actually doing?"
Amelia smiled through the phone. "He stood by your desk for nearly five minutes." Elena fell silent. "He picked up the framed photo of the two of you from last Christmas..." Amelia's voice grew quieter. "...and said the house felt strangely empty without you."
The smile on Elena's face remained, though something warm flickered behind her eyes. "I'll call him once we arrive at the airport."
"You should."
"I know."
"And..." Amelia hesitated. "...he told me to remind you not to skip meals."
Elena groaned dramatically. "He asked you to say that?"
"He specifically said, 'If my daughter tells you she's too busy to eat, don't believe a single word that comes out of her mouth.'"
Kael laughed under his breath. "Smart man."
"I heard that," Elena muttered.
"I wanted you to."
Amelia giggled. "See? Mr. Ashford agrees with him."
"I suddenly feel very outnumbered today."
"You've always been outnumbered," Kael replied.
Another wave of laughter echoed through the car.
After a comfortable pause, Amelia spoke once more. "Enjoy your trip, Miss Moreau."
"I'll try."
"And don't worry about anything here."
"I never do."
"I'll keep everything running until you're back."
"I know you will."
There was genuine trust in Elena's voice. Not the trust between an employer and an assistant. But the trust between two women who had spent years standing beside each other through impossible schedules, impossible expectations, and impossible dreams.
"Take care of yourself," Amelia said softly.
"You too."
The call ended.
For a moment, Elena continued looking at the dark screen of her phone before slipping it back into her bag.
Kael gently nudged her shoulder. "You miss him already."
She smiled toward the passing landscape. "A little."
He intertwined their fingers once again. "It won't be long."
Elena looked out at the endless mountains stretching across the horizon. "I know."
Neither of them realized that, in just a few short hours… Everything they believed would be waiting for them.... would be gone.
The black Rolls-Royce glided through the private entrance of Geneva International Airport, disappearing behind towering steel gates reserved for heads of state, royalty, and the world's most influential families.
Unlike the bustling commercial terminals on the opposite side of the airport, the private aviation lounge was almost unnaturally quiet. There were no long queues, no hurried travelers dragging heavy luggage across polished floors, and no loudspeaker announcing delayed departures. Every movement was precise, every greeting rehearsed, every detail designed to make the world's elite feel as though time itself moved according to their schedules.
As soon as the Rolls-Royce came to a stop beneath the covered drop-off area, several airport personnel stepped forward.
Martin was already outside, opening the rear door before either passenger had the chance to reach for the handle. "We've arrived, sir."
Kael nodded. "Thank you, Martin."
"It has always been my pleasure."
Martin's smile carried the quiet affection of someone who had watched Kael grow from an energetic young boy into the man standing before him today.
As Elena stepped out beside him, the cool afternoon breeze brushed against her face. Beyond the glass walls of the terminal, private aircraft rested silently on the tarmac beneath a cloudless sky. Ground crews moved efficiently between hangars while luxury vehicles came and went without attracting the slightest attention.
Everything appeared perfectly ordinary. Exactly as it should.
"Mr. Ashford." A tall man in a navy suit approached with an electronic tablet tucked beneath his arm. "Welcome back to Geneva Executive Aviation."
Kael offered a polite handshake. "Good afternoon, Mr. Keller."
"It's good to see you again, sir." Turning toward Elena, the man smiled warmly. "Miss Moreau."
"It's always a pleasure," Elena greeted.
"I hope your stay in Switzerland has been enjoyable."
"It has."
"Your aircraft is fully prepared for departure. Captain Reynolds has completed the final pre-flight inspection, and your flight plan has already been approved."
Kael accepted the digital itinerary handed to him before glancing at the departure time. "Early."
Mr. Keller smiled knowingly. "The skies are expected to remain exceptionally clear throughout the afternoon."
"I certainly hope they do."
"As do we."
With a courteous nod, the airport director excused himself, allowing another group of staff members to retrieve their luggage.
Elena watched one of the attendants carefully lift the leather portfolio containing her architectural sketches.
"Please be careful with that."
The young employee immediately straightened. "Of course, Miss Moreau."
"It contains months of work."
"I'll personally carry it aboard."
"Thank you."
Kael smiled to himself. "You trust people with billion-euro projects… but not with your drawings."
"They're more valuable."
He raised an eyebrow. "Should I be offended?"
"No."
She looked at him innocently. "You're already insured."
He laughed under his breath. "I walked right into that."
A member of the flight crew approached. "Mr. Ashford?"
"Yes?"
"The aircraft is ready whenever you are."
Kael glanced through the expansive glass wall overlooking the runway.
Parked several hundred meters away stood a sleek Gulfstream G700 painted in elegant shades of pearl white and charcoal gray. The Ashford crest shimmered near the entrance door, understated yet unmistakable.
The afternoon sunlight reflected across its polished fuselage, making it appear almost untouched by the world around it. Beautiful, powerful, and safe.
Elena followed his gaze. "I still think it's too big."
Kael looked amused. "It's a plane."
"It's practically a flying hotel."
"Occupational hazard."
She laughed softly. "I suppose that's true."
He extended his hand. "Shall we?"
She slipped her fingers into his without hesitation. Together, they walked across the private terminal toward the aircraft waiting beyond the glass. Neither of them noticed the man standing on the observation deck several floors above.
A pair of binoculars rested against his eyes. He watched them board. Then reached into his pocket and pressed a single number on an encrypted satellite phone.
"They're walking toward the aircraft."
The response came almost instantly. "Understood."
- Writer
