Tristan shook his head the moment Lysander’s suggestion finished forming in his mind.
No.
He was not going to throw himself on top of Talia like some desperate man. There had to be a smarter way to apply pressure without completely discarding his own standards. He concluded.
Then his eyes moved back toward where Talia was still laying, she had gone back to whatever she was checking on her phone.
A short, calculated idea quickly formed in his head. He could walk over, using his hands to cover his bulge, that would be obvious while still not completely obvious, stand in front of her and say;
"I have unfinished business with Nadia. If I can’t find her soon... I might have to ask you to help me deal with it instead."
"You keep impressing me, my intelligent host with the standards." Lysander’s amused voice rolled into his head.
Tristan blinked, trying to stay humble while accepting the compliment. Then he sprung into action but before he could take a step closer to Talia, Cora walked out of her room.
Tristan stopped and turned toward her instead. He quickly made sure the remaining tightness in his trousers was less noticeable, then spoke to her;
"Cora. I need Nadia’s address. It’s urgent, please."
Cora paused mid-step and looked at him, surprise and curiosity dancing in her eyes.
"Why?" she asked.
"I need to see her for something important and absolutely urgent." Tristan said.
She studied his face for a moment. Whatever urgency she read there made her decide not to press further. She gave a short nod.
"It’s not too far from this neighborhood, but you’ll need a taxi." She recited the address for him then added;
"Don’t get lost." She sounded like she meant to add more but didn’t, anyway.
By the time she finished speaking, the uncomfortable heat in his lower body had finally begun to fade. Tristan gave a brief nod of thanks and headed straight for the door.
~~~~~~~~~~
The taxi ride to the location was short and quiet.
When Tristan stepped out, he found himself standing in front of a busy wine and alcohol shop. The place had a steady flow of customers. People entered and left with bags and bottles, and the inside was filled with low sound of customers’ conversation.
The System chimed softly, bringing a notification in his vision;
[Progress recorded. Host has reached the target’s location.]
Tristan glanced once at the entrance, then walked inside.
The interior was larger than it appeared from the street. There were lots of wooden shelves, along the walls, arranged with bottles stretched and several tables were occupied by small groups. Behind the main counter, Nadia stood with her head slightly lowered, focused on mixing drinks.
Tristan raised a hand in a simple, restrained greeting when their eyes briefly met.
Nadia’s brows furrowed the moment she saw him. She looked away immediately and returned to what she was doing.
[Warning: Remain alert if you wish to complete the mission.] The system chimed again.
Tristan heaved an understanding sigh then moved closer to the counter, keeping his attention on her. Her hands worked quickly and efficiently, pouring and mixing without wasted movement. She looked fully concentrated, as if the rest of the shop did not exist.
He stopped a short distance away and spoke in a calm voice.
"Hey, Nadia."
No response.
He continued anyway, keeping his tone friendly.
"How is work going? Managing fine today?"
"Is everything okay?"
Still nothing. Nadia did not even glance up.
After another short attempt at conversation, she finally stopped. She set the bottle in her hand down and lifted her head. Her red eyes fixed on him with open irritation.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she gritted out.
Tristan met her gaze and held it without flinching.
"I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything you shouldn’t do." he maintained firmly.
Nadia stared at him for a long second, her nostrils scrunching up in irritation. Then her eyes shifted briefly ahead. Tristan, not wanting to miss anything, quickly followed her gaze.
Not too far from the counter, a group of about ten men occupied two tables, waiting for their orders and talking among themselves. Her gaze landed on them and something that read only as mischief moved behind her expression, her lips curving slightly.
After a split second, she looked at Tristan. Without warning, she picked up a shot glass, leaned forward slightly, and poured the entire contents onto Tristan’s face without any drama, slowly as if performing an experiment she didn’t want people’s attention to get drawn to.
The liquid ran down Tristan’s face and stung his eyes.
"Shit!" Tristan growled.
"Was that wrong? Or was it right? Since you’re here to supervise me." she spat out in almost a whisper.
Tristan heaved an exasperated sigh. He had anticipated she would act up, so it wasn’t too shocking. He raised a hand and began wiping at his face. The alcohol burned more than he expected. However, through the discomfort, he caught a small, quick movement from the corner of his eye.
Nadia’s hand slipped into her handbag which was on the counter. When it came back out, she held a small bottle between her fingers. With a smooth movement, she began adding it to each of the drinks she had prepared, moving from glass to glass without hesitation. A notorious little smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth as she did it.
She finished quickly, grabbed the loaded tray with both hands, and turned toward the table of ten men.
Tristan’s wiping motion stopped. The residual liquid still irritated his eyes, but he forced them open wider and took a step forward.
"Nadia... stop."
She was already walking toward the table, with the tray balanced in her hands and she didn’t even act like she heard him.