AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ah! There it is. Everyone is fucking concerned about the island.
He brings a glass of water and makes me swallow several pills.
I close my eyes for a moment, willing the pain to go away. “Tell the security guy to give you directions to where Kai Droga is staying. Check on him. Even if he says he is fine. He is from the Eastside. They think they are tough shit. But infection is no joke. I need him alive.”
He leaves, and my phone lights up.
Chase Bishop, the Rambo of this island.
I don’t answer.
He probably wants to let me know the Eastsiders crossed his property at the Divide yesterday. I do need to talk to him at some point. He said there was a hurricane coming. The Eastsiders don’t know it yet, but they might be in deep shit soon.
Margot comes, swinging her wristlet, and gives me a smirk, studying my swollen face. “You are not in the office.”
No shit. “Anything they need me for in the lab?”
“You’ve been gone for several days, but we manage. You know. The world doesn’t rotate around you.”
“No, occasionally it doesn’t.”
“The board members from Canada called. They want to fly here for a meeting.”
“We’ll do it remotely.”
“They insist.”
“Who gives a shit.”
“Looks like you don’t. About anything. Including yourself.”
Margot sashays closer and stretches her hand to touch the side of my face, but I turn away. “I’m fine.”
She leaves without a word, the clacking of her heels faster as soon as she closes the door. She is angry.
I pick up the phone and dial Amir, the only person who can take over pretty much the entire operation on Zion if I go MIA.
Amir’s voice is low and monotonous. “Everything is good?”
He is always making sure I am fine. Understandable. After all, a lot of what’s happening in Gen-Alpha Project depends on my wellbeing. Ironic, considering that lately, I want it all to go to hell.
“Yes,” I say, wanting a stiff drink but trying not to move, because it hurts. “Everything is going fine. I know I’ve been missing for several days. Just need to sort some stuff out.”
“No worries. I got it.”
Amir never worries. “My dad had an interesting conversation the other day,” he says, without any speck of interest in his voice. “With Aleksei Tsariuk, of all people.”
I stiffen at the name. “Rings a bell. Yeah. I told him his daughter is not here.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t believe that.”
I frown. “What is that supposed to mean? We checked our records.”
“He asked my dad about Zion. Quite a bit, in fact. Strange questions, and not about Gen-Alpha. Says he needs his own investigation.”
“So he didn’t find her.”
That means two things. One, his daughter might really be here, and I didn’t look close enough. If the biggest mob boss in Europe is not convinced, I didn’t do a good job. Fuck. It rubs me the wrong way—I don’t like missing things.
