Ashley

Beta landed in Casablanca, Morocco, with Matilda.

With a Continental Hotel coin, he checked in with ease. No ID or passport was needed; anyone with a coin could stay.

The moment he pushed open the heavy solid-wood door, he was met with an air of luxury that stood in stark contrast to the slightly rundown cityscape outside.

The Continental Hotel's interior was exquisitely appointed. The water in the temperature-controlled massage tub adjusted automatically, the motion-sensor crystal chandeliers lit up one by one as they walked past, and even the gilded bathroom faucets gleamed with understated luxury. Every detail silently spoke of the word "first-class."

Beta set Matilda's luggage down on the carpet and turned to ask, "What would you like for dinner, Matilda?"

Matilda pulled the squashed Paddington Bear plushie out of her backpack and answered absently, "Anything."

Beta scratched his forehead. "Is this a word all women love to use, regardless of age?"

Matilda sank into the leather sofa, hugged the plushie, and shrugged. "Mm-hmm."

Her lower legs swung gently in the air as she stared at the ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

Beta smiled. "Want to learn a little trick to make your future husband do whatever you say?"

Matilda sat up straight. "Of course!"

"Listen." Beta struck a thoughtful pose. "Men are like computers on standby. First, you need an activation word."

He raised his index finger. "Something like 'honey' or a special nickname. That's like pressing the power button."

Matilda nodded earnestly, hugging Paddington Bear to her chest.

"Then," Beta continued, "you need to give precise instructions. For example, don't say, 'Let's have steak tonight.' Say, 'Honey, please buy one kilogram of steak, pan-fry it in butter until both sides are lightly browned, serve it with 200 grams of broccoli and six cherry tomatoes, then drizzle it with black pepper sauce.'" He imitated a voice that was gentle but precise.

"Like this." Beta winked. "As long as the other person has a functioning brain, you'll come home to a perfect dinner. Understand the programming logic?"

Matilda thought it over, then smiled. "Then, dear Uncle Salong, please order me 300 grams of tiramisu, with double the coffee powder and cocoa powder."

Beta snapped his fingers and pointed at Matilda with a grin. "Excellent. You've mastered the key technique. Believe me, you'll make a wonderful wife, and your future husband will become a model husband because of it."

Matilda asked curiously, "Is this some profound psychological principle?"

"Ha!" A sly glint flashed in Beta's eyes. "Quite the opposite. This is the most basic infant psychology. Any preschool teacher could give you a lesson."

"Huh?" Matilda hugged Paddington Bear, clearly confused by the unexpected answer.

Leaning back on the leather sofa, Beta's eyes gleamed with amusement. "The psychology of men is a fascinating field. In fact, most husbands only need three things: clear instructions, positive reinforcement after they've done the job, and an occasional small reward. In that positive feedback loop, men become more and more capable, like well-trained dolphins."

"Unfortunately," he said with a shrug, "many wives are either vague or stingy with their praise. The result is that a home that could have been harmonious turns into a hellish battleground where everyone makes each other miserable."

Beta gave Matilda a meaningful look. "Remember this, and your future married life will be much easier."

Matilda said, "You know a lot."

Beta replied, "Professional skills."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang in a rapid burst.

Beta drew the Glock pistol from his waist with his right hand while making a discreet gesture to Matilda with his left.

He moved toward the door slowly and cautiously opened it a crack. The instant the gap appeared, a hand shot in and seized Beta by the collar with uncanny precision.

Beta didn't resist, letting the other person shove him into the room. With a sharp click, the door slammed shut and locked automatically.

Before Beta could steady himself, the newcomer lunged at him and knocked him to the floor. Straddling his waist, she pinned him firmly in place.

Beta exclaimed in surprise, "Ashley? What are you doing here?"

Ashley, pinning him beneath her, was a classic Italian beauty. She looked to be around twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and her neat, ear-length haircut gave her a capable air.

She wore a well-tailored gray women's suit and flat leather shoes. The outline of a pistol holster was just visible at her waist. Her whole bearing radiated the sharp, professional air of a bodyguard, combining feminine charm with an unmistakable sense of competence.

Ashley bit her lower lip, her blazing gaze fixed on Beta beneath her. Her voice was reproachful. "You bastard. You sneaked off to Casablanca and didn't even bother to contact me?"

Beta couldn't help laughing. "You sly little fox. How did you find me?"

Ashley didn't answer. She simply took off her suit jacket, unfastened her holster, and tossed them aside on the floor along with the gun.

She leaned down and pressed herself close to Beta, whispering in his ear, her breath hot. "We need to hurry, darling. I only have forty minutes. Antonio's leaving here in forty minutes."

Beta wrapped an arm around Ashley's waist and lifted her from the floor. Her long legs curled around his waist as she cupped his face in both hands and kissed him hard. Their passionate kiss made a suggestive smacking sound.

"Wait," Beta managed to say between breaths, his voice hoarse. "There's a minor here. Let's have her step out first."

Ashley finally released his lips. Most of her once-perfect lipstick had smudged, leaving traces all over Beta's lips and cheeks.

She narrowed her eyes and followed the direction Beta had indicated. "A minor? That little girl?"

The next second, she grabbed Beta by the collar, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Who is she?!"

Beta quickly raised both hands to show he meant no harm. "Calm down, darling. She's my friend's daughter. I brought her here to lie low."

"You'd better not be lying to me." Ashley turned to Matilda and gave her a professional smile. "Sweetheart, could you wait in your room for a little while? We have some grown-up business to discuss."

Matilda nodded, hurried into her room, and gently closed the door.

Beta carried Ashley toward the master bedroom.

He deftly pushed the door shut with his heel. With a soft click, they tumbled together onto the soft bed. Ashley's hair fanned across the pillow; her gray suit jacket had long since vanished, and the collar of her shirt hung slightly open.

"Forty minutes," Beta whispered in her ear, deftly undoing the buttons on her shirt. "Looks like we'll have to hurry."

Ashley chuckled, her long legs winding around his waist. "Then don't waste any time, darling."

Her voice was slightly hoarse with desire, and her fingers had already slipped beneath Beta's collar.

Outside, the setting sun over Casablanca cast its last rays into the room, bathing the reunited lovers in a golden glow.

The story continued to move forward, with all sorts of characters beginning to appear one after another. Their stories would be told later.