American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 23 Sophia

Beta sat on the sofa in the suite's living room, her wet hair still dripping with water.

He casually threw on a loose shirt, and a few faint red hickeys were visible below the collar—the marks Ashley had left before she left. The blue light from his laptop illuminated his slightly tired face, and encrypted messages on the screen flashed incessantly.

Matilda's door clicked open. The little girl sat on the sofa, clutching Paddington Bear, clearly unhappy: "You should keep it down."

Beta typed on the keyboard, replying to the second message from @123.

The message from @123 was very concise: France, 300 million euros, order accepted.

Beta replied: Timeframe, target, half deposit and half balance.

Just then, Matilda's voice came from behind: "Shouldn't we have dinner? It's already seven o'clock, and I've only eaten some biscuits in the room to stave off hunger."

Beta, her eyes still glued to the screen, pointed without turning her head to the phone on the table: "Let's order by phone."

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

"Ding!"

A new message pops up on the screen. The sender is @123, and the message is brief: See attachment for details.

Beta opened the file.

The screen flashed, and a detailed file popped up. The photo was of an Indian businessman, and the information included everything from his height and weight to his personal background, even his precise travel time and a series of action details.

Beta stroked his chin, pondering the order.

"Ding!"

A notification popped up: The deposit has been received. The order will be completed on the 25th of next month, and the balance will be paid.

Beta replied: Received.

Beta took out his phone and logged into the offshore bank's online platform.

Through a network of agent banks, the funds were split and transferred to three shell companies in different jurisdictions. The front-end company account operated through a series of small, split payment instructions, transferring the funds to several related accounts. The €150 million deposit was laundered within seconds and safely deposited into the accounts.

Meanwhile, Matilda turned on the TV out of boredom, changing channels as she waited for the delivery person to arrive.

Beta lay back on the sofa, his brow slightly furrowed.

He had another matter to deal with: how did Ashley know he was in Casablanca? Hopefully, it wasn't some kind of phone tracking app; otherwise, he'd have a serious talk with Ashley. Two people shouldn't be in a relationship that involves mutual surveillance.

With that in mind, he picked up the phone in the room and dialed the front desk: "I need to schedule an appointment to meet with your manager."

The receptionist on the other end of the phone asked politely but mechanically, "What is your identification code? The third, tenth, or eleventh digit?"

Beta answered: "3, 67, 01".

"Yes, sir," the receptionist confirmed. "You have been scheduled to meet with the manager at 8 p.m.

Beta put down the phone, changed into a well-tailored gray suit, and casually tucked his sidearm into its holster.

He turned to Matilda: "I'm going to see the hotel manager. She's a very capable and powerful woman. Would you like to come and meet her?"

Matilda turned off the TV, then hesitated slightly: "What about our dinner?"

Beta said, "Just call to cancel, they won't charge you."

He straightened his collar and said confidently, "When that manager sees me, he'll probably be happy to treat us to a lavish dinner."
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Beta, accompanied by Matilda, knocked precisely on the walnut door of the Casablanca Hotel manager's office at eight o'clock sharp.

"Please come in." The woman behind the desk slowly raised her head, revealing a face with typical Arab and European features, where deep-set eyes and soft facial lines blended perfectly.

She was around thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, with short, jet-black hair neatly cascading down to her ears. She wore a black, semi-transparent gauze dress over a black, low-cut, fitted long dress, the fabric revealing ivory-like skin. A necklace of gold coins hung perfectly at her chest, subtly accentuating her curves while maintaining a graceful and appropriate demeanor.

When Sophia saw Beta enter, the professional seriousness on her face vanished. She relaxed and sank back in her leather chair, raising an eyebrow: "What brings you here?"

His gaze swept over Matilda: "Is this your daughter?"

He then scoffed, "Where's that bastard John Wick? Wasn't he with you?"

Beta sat down opposite her, casually crossing his legs: "Just passing by and taking a break."

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

His tone turned somber when he mentioned John: "That guy had enough to keep him busy at Helen's funeral in New York."

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

Beta nodded slightly, her gaze dimming somewhat. "Thank you. But... this is for the best."

He paused, his voice low and calm: "At least Helen won't have to suffer anymore. Those days, cancer tormented her so much."

Sofia leaned forward slightly: "So, what exactly did you want to say by secretly checking into my hotel and specifically requesting to meet with me?"

Beta looked at her: "Are you familiar with Antonio's female bodyguard?"

“That woman?” Sofia raised an eyebrow. “Of course I know her. Why?”

She was completely unaware of the special relationship between Ashley and Beta, which remained a secret.

“How did she know I lived here?” Beta asked.

Sofia chuckled softly. "Antonio is at the hotel. As a core member of the Round Table Council, he's completely transparent about everything happening in the hotel; it's perfectly normal for his bodyguards to know."

Beta nodded thoughtfully. "I understand."

Then, changing the subject, he asked, "Where are your two beloved dogs?"

“She’s sleeping in the lounge,” Sofia replied.

Sofia picked up her coffee cup and turned to Ashley: "Aren't you going to introduce this young lady?"

Beta tapped his fingers lightly on his knee, then hesitated slightly before continuing, "Since Antonio is here, is Gianna here too?"

Sophia put down her cup and looked at Beta meaningfully: "You want to see her?" Her voice rose slightly at the end, carrying a hint of inquiry.

Beta met her gaze and nodded frankly: "If she were here."

Sofia sighed softly, her fingertips tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "Sitting in the seat of a member of the Round Table Council, she can't afford to let anyone find any weakness. And you, precisely, are her greatest weakness."

The coffee in her cup swirled slightly. Sofia said, "Her insistence on not seeing you, in the end, is just to protect you."

“But we can’t just completely avoid seeing her, can we? Is she at the hotel now?” Beta pressed.

Sofia nodded slightly: "Yes. As members of the roundtable, any branch of the Continental Hotel will have all the information available to them. She specifically requested to take a different flight from Antonio, perhaps..."

Sofia paused. "She's waiting to see you too."

(End of this chapter)