Chapter 62
2176words
Zurich | Hotel Belvedere | Suite 1107
Afternoon (CET)
The video call connected with a low chime.
Kristina stood a few paces behind the sitting area in their suite, arms crossed, one shoulder leaned against the wall. Eli was seated on the arm of the couch, laptop balanced on his knee, but his eyes were on the monitor—not the screen itself, but the people it revealed.
The familiar briefing room came into view. Early morning light filtered through the east windows behind them. Lucian sat at the head of the table, calm in black, fingers steepled just beneath his chin. Sebastian was nearest the camera, reviewing a shared document. Vex looked half-awake, chewing something unapologetically. Ash leaned back, unshaven and cross-legged, with a steaming mug labeled “Not Today, Satan.”
Lucian spoke first. “Report.”
Eli nodded once and started. “Initial contact held at Brasserie Kronenhalle. Representatives were Lina Rehn and two male counterparts. No security escort, no unnecessary handlers. Just enough to make a point.”
Kristina added smoothly, “They arrived ten minutes late. Deliberate. We didn’t react.”
Ash raised an eyebrow. “Did they expect you to?”
Eli shrugged. “They wanted control. We didn’t give it.”
Lucian’s expression didn’t shift. But something in his eyes approved.
“They presented infrastructure access and a twelve-year clean corridor out of Poland and the Balkans,” Kristina continued, her voice steady. “In exchange, they asked for minimal oversight, first refusal on ops, and equal cut on high-revenue drops.”
“Bold,” Sebastian murmured.
“Desperate,” Eli corrected. “Lucian doesn’t deal in fairness when the other side buries secrets.”
Vex finished chewing and added dryly, “So… how close did you come to flipping the table?”
Kristina didn’t smile. But Eli did. Just slightly.
“They got the message,” Kristina said. “We demanded documentation—routes, timelines, clean background data. We’ll know in a few days if they’re bluffing.”
Ash leaned forward. “Any tells?”
“They’re used to posturing,” Eli said. “Not being challenged.” He glanced toward Kristina. “Especially not by both of us.”
Lucian finally spoke again. “Did they flinch?”
“Yes,” Kristina answered, steady. “It was brief—but it was there.”
A pause. A subtle shift. Lucian’s fingers relaxed slightly.
Sebastian leaned forward. “Was there any reference to the past incident?”
Kristina didn’t hesitate. “I brought it up.”
Lucian’s brow rose—not in surprise, but in interest.
“Reminded them a gun was involved last time they ‘negotiated’ with Eli,” she continued. “They tried to downplay it. I didn’t let them.”
Lucian said nothing, but a flicker of something sharper crossed his features.
“They didn’t deny it?” Sebastian asked.
“They didn’t get the chance,” Eli answered. “We didn’t give them space to shape the narrative.”
Silence followed. Tense, but not strained. Just full.
Lucian leaned back slightly in his chair. “Good.”
The call could have ended there, and it might have. But Lucian’s eyes lingered on the screen—on them. On her.
“Both of you,” he said, quieter now. “Well done.”
Kristina didn’t move. But Eli nodded once. “Thanks.”
Ash grinned. “Are we proud of you? Maybe. Are we surprised? No.”
Vex raised his mug. “Tag team vibes. Kinda hot, actually.”
Kristina raised an eyebrow. “Vex—”
“I’ll behave.” Sip. “For now.”
Lucian glanced to the others. “You’re dismissed. Let me speak to them alone.”
Ash gave a half-salute. “Good luck.”
Sebastian closed his tablet. “Keep us posted.”
One by one, the team signed off until only Lucian remained.
The silence stretched—not awkward, but full of something that wasn’t just briefing protocol. Something personal.
Kristina stepped closer. Eli stayed seated, still now, but alert.
Lucian’s voice softened. “How are you both holding up?”
Eli answered first. “We’re good.”
Kristina added, “Zurich’s calm. We’re staying alert.”
Lucian studied her. “And you?”
Her voice lowered a fraction. “Still with you.”
Lucian didn’t smile. But his expression changed. Just slightly.
Then, with calm precision, he said, “After the proof comes in… we’ll talk next steps.”
Kristina nodded. “We’ll be ready.”
Lucian’s gaze held hers a second longer than necessary. Then shifted to Eli. “Stay sharp.”
Eli met his eyes, steady. “Always.”
Lucian gave a final nod. “Talk soon.”
The screen went dark.
Minutes later, Kristina stood near the window, half-lit by the Zurich sun. The hushed hum of the city filtered in through the glass, but her thoughts had already shifted elsewhere.
Eli moved about quietly behind her—tidying up their notes from the call, straightening a jacket that had been draped over a chair. He wasn’t trying to listen, but he didn’t leave either.
She stared at her phone for a moment. Then tapped the contact.
Lucian answered on the third ring. His voice was low, warm.
Kristina exhaled softly. “Hey. Did we catch you before your day started?”
“Just about,” Lucian murmured. “Still upstairs. Everyone else just left the briefing room.”
She smiled faintly, settling her weight against the window frame. “What’s on your schedule today?”
“A few strategy calls. A transport reroute through Turkey. Ash is probably going to try and sneak another round of tests past me before lunch.” His tone was casual, but fond. “What about you two?”
Glancing toward the clock, Kristina said, “Reviewing some materials. Some of it might be legit. Then dinner later—Eli mentioned a place earlier, somewhere he went the first time he dealt with the Kesslers.”
Lucian hummed thoughtfully. “Sounds like a good idea. Familiar ground.”
A pause, then softer, “You deserve a real meal anyway. Something quiet.”
Kristina nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Lucian made a gentle sound in his throat, amused but skeptical. “Just don’t let them get too comfortable.”
“Not planning to,” she said—and then her voice gentled. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
Lucian’s reply came without hesitation. “I miss having you around.”
Kristina’s breath hitched slightly, and she didn’t bother to hide it. Eli was still moving quietly behind her, flipping through briefing papers now, but she didn’t lower her voice. She didn’t need to.
Lucian continued, his voice even softer now. “The house feels empty. Mornings feel slower. I keep expecting to hear your footsteps. Or your laugh.”
Kristina closed her eyes. “I miss you too.”
There was silence—not awkward, just full.
“I miss having you beside me when I wake up,” Lucian said gently. “And at breakfast. You made the house feel like it started right.”
She smiled faintly. “That’s because I always have the warm chair.”
Lucian’s laugh was low and warm. “It wasn’t the chair I missed.”
Kristina turned slightly, her shoulder resting against the glass. “What else do you miss?”
He didn’t rush the answer.
“Your presence,” he said finally. “You grounding me in the mornings. You taking up space in the bed. You being the last thing I see before I sleep.” A pause. “All of it.”
Her voice cracked, just slightly. “I miss being there. With you. Just… near you.”
Lucian must have heard Eli shuffling in the background—papers moving, a drawer being closed.
He didn’t comment. Didn’t ask. Just said, with quiet understanding, “Tell him I said thanks. For taking care of you.”
Kristina’s eyes glistened. “He knows.”
“I’m glad,” Lucian said warmly. “I’m glad you’re not alone.”
Kristina’s voice dropped. “Neither are you.”
Lucian smiled. She could hear it, even if she couldn’t see it.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” she said. “To hold you. Just… to be with you.”
“I’ll be here,” he said.
And in the stillness that followed, the distance between them didn’t seem so far.
Kristina stood still by the window for a long moment after the call ended, her phone still in hand, eyes gentle but distant.
She wasn’t thinking about the briefing anymore.
She was thinking about home.
Eli had paused what he was doing when he heard the tone of her voice change. He set the papers down on the table quietly and crossed the room toward her, not rushing.
“You miss him so much,” he said gently.
Kristina nodded once, the movement small but sure. “Yeah.”
Eli didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her from behind—steady, quiet, warm. She let out a breath, not shaky, but weighted. And leaned back into him without a word.
His voice was low beside her ear. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon. We’ll be back before you know it.”
She turned slightly, just enough to look at him, to meet his eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For understanding. For… putting up with me.”
Eli’s brow furrowed, faint but firm. “Hey. I’m not putting up with anything.”
Kristina’s mouth twitched into a faint smile. But Eli wasn’t done.
“I want to be here,” he said. “Even when it’s complicated. Especially when it is.”
That hit something in her. Not because she doubted it—but because it was still rare to be held so clearly, so steadily, even in the middle of her conflict.
She didn’t look away. “You’re good to me.”
Eli shook his head slightly. “I just love you.”
The words weren’t loud. Weren’t dramatic.
But they were true.
Kristina blinked slowly. And this time, when she leaned forward to rest her head against his chest, it wasn’t because she was trying to hold herself together.
It was because, with him, she didn’t have to.
Zurich | Café Wilderblick
Evening (CET)
The sign above the door read Café Wilderblick, its letters faded but warm. Nestled just off a subdued cobbled street in Zurich’s Old Town, the place didn’t scream elegance. It smelled like slow-cooked sauces and candle wax—the kind of restaurant people found by accident and never forgot.
Inside, the lighting was dim and amber, the air filled with quiet conversation and the clink of glassware. Small tables hugged the tall windows that looked out onto rooftops and a distant glimmer of the lake. The waitress moved like she belonged to the rhythm of the place—unhurried, invisible but attentive.
Kristina stepped in first, holding the door open briefly for Eli.
She wore black—a long-sleeved knit dress that hit just below the knee, clean-lined and effortless. No accessories. Just dark boots and hair tucked behind one ear. There was something steady about her. Unshakable, even when she wasn’t trying to be.
Eli followed, in a dark slate-blue shirt and black slacks, his sleeves rolled once. No jacket, no fuss. His hair was still a little wind-tousled from the walk over, but he didn’t bother to fix it. He never did.
The host led them to a corner table near the window.
“This okay?” Eli asked once they sat.
Kristina glanced around, her gaze taking in the faint light, the simple decor, the old wood table between them. Then she looked at him.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
Eli smiled. Not a big grin—just the kind that softened his entire face.
They ordered a bottle of red Eli remembered from years ago. The kind that lingered long after the glass was empty.
Dinner was calm at first. Not silent—just easy. They talked about the day, about Zurich, about how Sebastian probably had a stopwatch tracking every second they were off the grid.
Then Eli glanced sideways at a couple sitting nearby, one of them drawing on a paper napkin with a pen.
“Okay, don’t laugh,” he said, lowering his voice. “But did I ever tell you I used to do jigsaw puzzles upside down?”
Kristina raised a brow. “Upside down?”
“Yeah. Like—blank side up. Just the shapes. No picture.”
She blinked at him. “Why would you do that to yourself?”
He sipped his wine with mock seriousness. “For the challenge. And because I was a weird kid.”
Kristina huffed a quiet laugh. “You still are.”
Eli grinned. “Thank you. I work hard to maintain my standards.”
She shook her head, still smiling. “So what kind of person does that? Solves a puzzle without even knowing what the final picture is?”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Someone who doesn't need to know the outcome to believe it’s worth finishing.”
That made her pause. The smile stayed—but gentled.
“You always talk like that?”
“Only when I’m trying to impress someone,” he said, eyes twinkling.
Kristina looked down at her wine, then back at him. “It’s working.”
For a moment, there was just the clink of their silverware. A shared breath. A stillness.
“Thanks for today,” she said.
Eli looked at her. “You carried just as much of it.”
“But you steadied the room,” she said. “You walked in like you had nothing left to prove. Like you didn’t owe them a single inch.”
His voice was quieter now. “Because I don’t.”
A beat passed.
“And because you were there,” he added, more softly.
Kristina didn’t reach across the table. But something about the way she looked at him said I see you.
And in that glow of candlelight and wine, with a worn-out puzzle story still hanging in the air, Eli Voss made her laugh and think at the same time.
It was the best kind of dinner.
Not fine dining. Not grand gestures.
Just something that stayed.
Some chapters don’t end with answers. Just the feeling that you’re exactly where you need to be.
—To be continued.
