Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
I knew something was up with that Italian son of a bitch. I just didn't know it was going to be to this extent. Bombing at the winery!? Now that's apocalyptic stuff.
My phone rings again. As expected, it's Bianca, my new assistant. I never thought I would say this, but it seems Chester wasn't the very best at his job as I thought. Bianca? She is a whole new level of assistant. I mean, the bombing is said to have happened only five minutes ago and she already had intel about it—only after visiting the branch once last week during a meeting.
I accept the call. Her voice comes from the other end, hurried and chipped. "The jet is ready for launch sir. We are waiting for your arrival. Also, I have already booked a resort for you to stay in case you need to stay for the night, I already sent the details to you via email."
What did I say? Super assistant she is.
"Thanks, Bianca. I owe you one," I reply, already getting in my car.
