Sophia

Beta sat on the sofa in the living room of the suite, droplets of water still falling from his wet, washed hair.

He had casually thrown on a loose shirt, and a few reddened hickeys were faintly visible beneath the collar, marks Ashley had left before she departed. The blue light of his laptop illuminated his slightly weary face, and encrypted messages flickered across the screen.

Matilda's door creaked open. The little girl sat on the sofa clutching Paddington Bear, clearly not happy. "You guys should be quieter."

Beta tapped on the keyboard, replying to the second message he'd received, the sender identified as @123.

The message from @123 was concise: France, 3 million euros, reply if accepting the job.

Beta replied: Time, target, half upfront, half upon completion.

Just then, Matilda's voice came from behind him: "Shouldn't we be having dinner? It's already seven o'clock, and I've only eaten cookies from the room for sustenance."

Beta's gaze remained fixed on the screen, and without turning his head, he pointed to the phone on the table. "Order something to eat over the phone."

He pulled a gold coin from his pocket and handed it to Matilda. "Order whatever you want. Use this to pay when the delivery person arrives."

"Ding!"

A new message popped up on the screen, from @123, the content brief: See attachment for details.

Beta clicked on the file.

The screen flickered, and a detailed profile appeared. The photo showed an Indian businessman, with information ranging from his height and weight to his personal background, even including precise travel times and a series of operational details.

Beta stroked his chin, contemplating the order.

"Ding!"

A message notification sounded: Deposit received. Order to be completed by the 25th of next month, with final payment upon completion.

Beta replied: Received.

Beta took out his phone and logged into the offshore banking network platform.

Through the segmented offshore banking network, the funds were transferred into three shell companies in different jurisdictions. The front-end company's account operations, through a series of small, split payment instructions, were routed into several associated accounts. The 1.5 million euro deposit was laundered in a matter of seconds, arriving safely.

Meanwhile, Matilda, bored, turned on the television, flipping through channels while waiting for the delivery person.

Beta leaned back on the sofa, his brow furrowed.

He still had one thing to deal with: how did Ashley know he was in Casablanca? He hoped it wasn't some mobile tracking software, otherwise, he'd have to have a serious talk with Ashley. They shouldn't be interacting by spying on each other.

With that thought, he picked up the room phone and dialed the front desk. "I need to schedule a meeting with your manager."

A polite and mechanical question came from the front desk: "May I have your identification code, the third digit, the tenth digit, and the eleventh digit?"

Beta replied: "3, 67, 01."

"Certainly, sir," the front desk confirmed. "A meeting with the manager has been scheduled for you at 8 PM."

Beta hung up the phone, changed into a well-tailored gray suit, and tucked his sidearm into its holster.

He turned to Matilda. "I'm going to meet the hotel manager. She's quite a formidable woman. Want to come along and meet her?"

Matilda turned off the TV, hesitating slightly. "What about our dinner then?"

Beta said, "Just call and cancel. They won't charge you."

He adjusted his collar, his tone certain. "Once the manager sees me, I'm sure she'll be more than happy to treat us to a lavish dinner."

Beta, with Matilda in tow, knocked on the walnut door of the Casablanca Hotel manager's office precisely at eight o'clock.

"Come in."

The woman behind the desk slowly looked up, revealing a face with typical Arab and European mixed-blood features, her deep-set eyes and soft facial contours perfectly blended.

She appeared to be around thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, with a cascade of jet-black shoulder-length hair neatly falling to her ears. She wore a black semi-transparent gauze dress over a black, low-cut, form-fitting long dress, her ivory-like delicate skin showing through the sheer fabric. A necklace made of gold coins hung perfectly on her chest, both accentuating her subtly revealed curves and cleverly maintaining a sense of propriety.

Sophia's professional stern expression softened when she saw Beta push the door open. She relaxed back into the leather chair, raising an eyebrow. "What brings you here?"

Her gaze swept over Matilda. "Is this your daughter?"

Then, she let out a cold snort. "Where's that scoundrel John Wick? Not with you?"

Beta sat down opposite her, casually crossing his legs. "Just passing through for a rest."

He tilted his head towards Matilda. "A friend's child."

Mentioning John, his tone deepened. "That guy is in New York. Helen's funeral is keeping him busy."

Sophia was silent for a moment, then said softly, "My condolences, Salong."

Beta nodded slightly, his gaze a little dimmed. "Thank you. But... it's for the best."

He paused, his voice low and calm. "At least Helen doesn't have to suffer anymore. Cancer tormented her so much in those days."

Sophia leaned forward slightly. "So, what exactly do you want to say by secretly staying in my hotel and specifically requesting a meeting?"

Beta looked at her. "Are you familiar with Antonio's bodyguard? The female one?"

"That woman?" Sophia raised an eyebrow. "Of course, I know her. Why?"

She had no idea about the special relationship between Ashley and Beta; that remained a secret.

"How did she know I was staying here?" Beta asked.

Sophia chuckled, "Antonio is at the hotel. As a core member of the Round Table Council, all movements within the hotel are transparent to him, so it's perfectly normal for his bodyguards to know about them."

Beta nodded thoughtfully, "Understood."

Then, he changed the subject, "What about your two precious dogs?"

"They're sleeping in the lounge," Sophia replied.

Sophia picked up her coffee cup, her gaze shifting to Ashley. "Aren't you going to introduce this young lady?"

Beta tapped his fingers on his knee, continuing with a slight hesitation, "Since Antonio is here... is Gianna here too?"

Sophia put down her cup, looking at Beta meaningfully. "You want to see her?" Her voice trailed off slightly, with a hint of inquiry.

Beta met her gaze and nodded frankly, "If she's here."

Sophia sighed softly, her fingertips grazing the rim of the coffee cup. "In her position as a member of the Round Table Council, she can't afford to have any weaknesses exposed. And you, my dear Beta, are precisely her biggest weakness."

The coffee in the cup swirled slightly. Sophia continued, "Her insistence on not seeing you, in the end, is simply to protect you."

"But we can't just avoid each other forever, can we? Is she at the hotel now?" Beta pressed.

Sophia nodded slightly. "She is. As a member of the Round Table, any branch of the Continental Hotel opens up all information to them. She specifically requested to travel on a different flight than Antonio, perhaps..."

Sophia paused. "She's also waiting to see you."