For weeks now, someone had been running their mouth online.
A blog; anonymous, slick, persistent, had been publishing image-tarnishing articles about Lucas Benetti. Not the usual fluffs either. These were polished, researched, and laced with just enough truth to make people wonder.
Drug smuggling. Arms deals. Bribed officials. A cleaner way of calling him a criminal. And it was getting increased views. Even the big media outlets had started sniffing around.
Lucas sat in his office, a cigar half-lit in one hand. "It's not the stories I care about," he said. "It's the nerve."
Across from him, Matteo, his tech guy, tapped away on a laptop. Mid-thirties, always in a hoodie, always smelled faintly of marijuana and coffee. Genius type. Lucas kept him around because Matteo could make a satellite orbit your kitchen if he wanted.
"I ran traces on six devices," Matteo said. "Five were ghosted—spoofed IPs, VPNs, random café routers in Ghana, London, hell, even one bounced off an Amazon server in Seattle. But this last one… slipped."
Lucas turned his head slowly. "Slipped?"
Matteo cracked a smile. "Yeah. Rookie move. One post went out from a home Wi-Fi in California. Didn't go through a VPN. Probably forgot to turn it on."
Lucas leaned forward. "Whose house?"
Matteo flipped the screen. "Craig Wilson. Some director. Small-time. Lives in Sherman Oaks."
Lucas paused. Then repeated, low: "Craig Wilson?"
"Yup," Matteo replied, watching him carefully now.
Lucas's eyes narrowed, not with anger—yet—but with calculation.
Craig Wilson. That was Claire's director. He leaned back again, exhaled smoke, and let the silence settle.
"Hmm, I guess he never really approved," Lucas muttered.
"What was that?" Matteo asked curiously.
"Nothing," Lucas said. "Get me everything you can on him."
Matteo nodded once and left.
Lucas crushed the cigar in the ashtray, fingers steady. He couldn't make a move on Craig. Not yet. That would just push Claire away.
No, this had to be clean. Quiet. Strategic. This was a real test of his patience, and for Claire, he'd do everything to pass.
***
"Ahlan (Hello)."
"Ahlan (Hello)."
"Very good! Let's try the last one. Shukran (Thank you)."
"Shukran (Thank you)."
"Excellent! Oh my, you're a natural." Natalia remarked with a proud grin.
Claire blushed softly at the compliment. "Thank you," she replied contentedly.
"You gotta understand, it's not just about the words, it's about embodying the essence of Arabian culture," Natalia said instructively.
Natalia's lecture was interrupted the arrival of Janan, a stern looking lady with a kind smile. "Time for etiquette training, ladies," she announced, leading them to a large ballroom.
There was a flurry of activities in the beautiful adorned hall. The walls were covered with gold patterns that shimmered like a genie's treasure trove, while the chandeliers sparkled like diamonds in a Sultan's crown.
The floor was polished to a shine, reflecting Claire's awestruck face like a mirror.
She looked like a kid in a candy store, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the grandeur.
'How big is this event?' She thought in disbelief, wondering why Lucas had set this whole thing up just to put her through some training.
Claire tried not to let the pressure get to her. She was a professional, used to adapting to new situations. She drew on her experience and took in a deep breath.
'It's just another movie. I got this,' she reassured herself. She pulled out her phone to check the time.
6:15 P.M.
Claire was led to a new area, where she met experts in Arabian style and culture. There was Zarah, a makeup and dressing specialist, and Amir, a historian who shared stories and customs from the past.
Zarah stepped forward, her hands covered with detailed henna patterns. "Alright! Let's make you up pretty," she said in a soft, melodic Middle Eastern accent. "Arabian makeup is all about enhancing natural beauty with a touch of drama. Natural beauty, check!" She declared with a rich laugh. Zarah's aura was so infectious; Claire, Natalia and Amir couldn't help but join laughing.
"Let's begin with the eyes," she said, after the laughter had fallen. Claire sat down in front of a large mirror as Zarah carefully applied kohl to her eyes, explaining the significance of each step.
"Kohl has been used for like… centuries, not just for beauty, but also for protection against the evil eye. Crazy."
"Really crazy," Claire muttered, trying to keep track of all she was being taught.
As Zarah worked, Amir began his storytelling. "While Zarah works her magic, let me tell you about Scheherazade."
'Oh boy, another train of information,' Claire thought in agony.
Nevertheless, she listened intently. The stories were mesmerizing, adding a rich layer of context to her training.
Next, it was time for dressing. Zarah brought out a selection of traditional Arabian garments—flowing abayas, delicately embroidered kaftans, and graceful scarves. Each piece was more stunning than the last.
"This, my gorgeous, is an abaya," Zarah explained, placing the black, flowing garment over Claire's shoulders. "Elegant as ever, though very simple."
"And this," she continued, placing a gold-embroidered scarf around Claire's head, "is a hijab. It's worn to maintain modesty and respect."
Natalia watched with satisfaction as Claire transformed before their eyes. "You're doing great, Claire," she would say every now and then.
The finishing touches were added with exquisite jewelry - gold bangles, dainty earrings, and a show-stopping necklace that shimmered in the light. Claire gazed at her reflection, feeling a sense of majesty and gracious humility wash over her.
As they approached the end of the session, Natalia handed Claire a beautifully bound book. "This contains more stories and customs. Study it well. You need to immerse yourself completely in this role."
Claire nodded, feeling a surge of determination despite being overwhelmed. The passion and dedication of the team inspired her to fully embrace her transformation.
She was no longer just learning a role, but immerging herself in a new identity, one that would enable her to confidently navigate this complex and captivating world.
"Alright everyone! Chop chop!" Natalia announced loudly, as she led Claire by hand, to the center of the room. "We saved the best training tonight for last: slow couples dancing."
The room dimmed slightly, and the soft strains of slow, traditional Arabian music filled the air. Everyone in the room partnered up, waiting for the instructor.
Claire felt a rush of excitement. She walked up to Natalia. "Who will be my partner for this?" she asked, glancing around the room.
Natalia only smiled craftily, as she pointed to the large door at the far end of the room.
As Claire turned, her heart did a little flip as she saw Lucas standing there, immediately changing the entire tone of the room.
'Help me god,' Claire thought, gulping hard.