Czar Gregovivk

I light a cigarette and step out onto the hotel balcony, watching Sebastian hurry across the street after leaving the hotel. He glances up once, as if he knows my eyes are on him. I slowly draw on my cigarette, nodding at him, and see him quickly enter a taxi that pulls up in front of him.
“I don’t know if it was very smart to let him know you need to talk to your submissive, my Russian friend,” Ramsés’ voice is low as he stealthily enters the room like a cat burglar.
“Are they monitoring him?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the car as it pulls away.
“Every step, since the second he left the room.”
“Did they tap his phone?” I turn to look at the man in the white suit, smoking his cigar and walking over to the chair by the drinks table.
“I told you my men are the best. Raja mirrored him, using recent technology from a program some acquaintances of mine acquired, which lets us access the phones of anyone in the same room.” Ramsés smiles at me. “Don’t worry, we didn’t do it to yours, but you already know that, don’t you?!”
“You can bet I do,” I reply briefly, not bothering to explain to Ramsés that I was the one who created that program and sold it to a group of rebels in Syria.
“Raja, how are we doing?”
His head stretches as he looks toward the bathroom door. Soon, it swings open, revealing the silent man with a shaved head, whose eyes are fixed on me as he holds a notebook, quickly shifting his attention to the screen.
“He just sent a message to the kid: Go to the hill, wait for me there. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t take anything.”
The man raises his face and looks at me as he finishes reading the message Sebastian just sent from his phone to his protégé.
“The taxi that picked him up is driven by one of our men. What’s the order, boss?” Raja asks, staring at Ramsés.
“They won’t meet up if you don’t want them to,” Ramsés says to me, standing up and staring at the bar, running his fingers over the bottles, looking at them with boredom before turning his face back to me. “I can send one of my men to intercept the kid and bring him to you.”
“No, Sebastian did exactly what I wanted.” I take a drag from my cigarette and let the air out slowly. “Let them hide; we’ll just keep an eye on them, watching their every step so we don’t lose them.”
“You wanted him to take the kid away, that’s why you told him you were after the boy…” Ramsés, always astute, doesn’t take long to understand what I desired. “You manipulated him into getting the informant Morgana away from your discovery.”
I take a deep breath, keeping my eyes locked on his without answering.
“You still haven’t told me how you found out the kid is a submissive alpha of Sebastian…”
“The representation of your codename. The second name on the code list, the last sheet of your dossier, was the only one marked as delivered to the owner,” I reply seriously.
“Dalila…” Ramsés grows serious, not understanding why.
“Biblical name, like the others. The codes for the alpha submissives that became Elite gifts are names of sinful women from the Bible. Dalila was sent to Samson to discover his secrets, a spy. Sebastian was the only advisor who didn’t take submissives; he never kept one more than once, and few know why.”
“Because he prefers to play with boys, not girls…” Ramsés gives me a mischievous smile. “But that’s no secret to anyone.”
“But him being a religious man is,” I reply, walking closer to the bar, leaning against it. “Sebastian is one of the most discreet advisors I know, but he’s also the most susceptible to being manipulated and blackmailed due to his ecclesiastical position. Morgana offered something too tempting for Sebastian to refuse, and after tasting it, he fell into her hands. And in exchange for being with the boy, she had a way to maneuver Mabel’s arrival here. Macro was the only safe bridge she had to recover her little project because Mabel trusts the boy.”
“Jezebel is your girl,” Ramsés responds, slowly waving his cigar in his hand. “The codename of the sinner number 5.”
“Jezebel Reis 21:23.” I take a deep breath and press my lips together. “'And concerning Jezebel, the Lord says: The dogs shall eat Jezebel by the wall of Jezreel.'”
“Elijah prophesied against Jezebel for the evil she did to Naboth. He warned that Jezebel would have a bloody death and that dogs would eat her corpse,” Ramsés speaks quietly, becoming thoughtful. “But why did they use Jezebel for her…”
“Not for her, but for him, Naboth.”
“Nate!” Ramsés lifts his face to me, uncovering the play between the names.
“Yes.” I confirm with a nod. “Mabel was delivered to that Nate even before being adopted by the Shot family, as if her fate was already prophesied.”
“Christ, they inverted the stories!” Ramsés crushes his fist and lightly punches the arm of the chair. “How didn’t I see that?! Then the other names are also…”
“Herodias, codename 4, is in Mark 17:29. Dalila, Old Testament.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Mical, codename 3…”
“Samuel 15:23,” I murmur, opening my eyes and staring at Ramsés. “And Salome.”
“New Testament.” Ramsés raises his eyebrows as they furrow in thought. “The first codename on the list… Five codenames of Elite gifts, five sinners from the Bible.”
“Yes, which, in my view, fits with order, since the empress Messalina wasn’t known for her modesty.” Morgana was smart to use biblical references, satirizing Sodom, but she was foolish to leave Macro in Moscow, in Sebastian’s hands. “Two are in Moscow. One in my house, the other Sebastian will hide.”
“We need to find the other three that have already been sold.” Ramsés shakes the ash off his cigar into the ashtray beside the small table near his chair.
“The list of the children who were adopted and those going through the adoption process from the orphanage, along with the names of the families, will be ready tonight. I’ll send it to you.” I push off the drinks cabinet and walk to the center of the room. “The other three are already in adulthood, which is why we didn’t find traces, but I’m researching to find their locations. I’ve done my part of the deal, as you wanted; I delivered an alpha submissive to you. Now I need your word that you’ll do yours.”
“You don’t need to be suspicious of me, my friend.” Ramsés’ calm voice is as dangerous and treacherous as his black gaze. “I won’t hurt your gift, and I certainly won’t condemn her before the council.”
“She’s not my gift,” I reply with my lips pressed together, bringing my fingers to my jacket pocket and crushing them. “Mabel should never have been tainted with something like this.”