11-24-2021, 02:49 PM
He chuckled as the car pulled into traffic.
“We just left somewhere fashionable, and fresh air and fashion are never found in the same place. You’ll need to make up your mind which it is you want,” he said with the hint of a tease.
Accustomed to the leisure of riding backseat, Adrian lounged comfortably as familiar sights blurred by. Although the longer he sat idle without a task on hand to occupy his attention, the more his eyes roamed. A crane loomed a block to the south. Its flickering lights signaling its towering strength. Although out of sight, he knew the parcel of buildings beneath were under extensive construction. Practically a rebuild, according to the project plans. He wasn’t so involved in the mighty Moscow real estate world to own the block. Nor did he own the construction company. Nor rent the equipment, steel, labor, or scaffolds. Nothing so glamorous and cutthroat as that.
Their chat was soon shadowed by Natalie’s anecdote. A poor review of the city was not the kind of thing to publicize. Olympus did not deign to acknowledge the existence of an underworld when one most definitely existed. They banished their undesirables to darkness and despair and pretended that out of sight equated to no threat. But Adrian knew better. He knew the foundation of any great city was built upon the backs of those preferred to be kept out of sight. The trash bins and portable toilets his forgotten, lonely company provided that construction site kept the work ongoing, but when shit piles up (literal and figurative), progress grinds to an expensive halt.
His gaze fell upon the dark-haired driver about then. Another forgotten soul. He wondered who she was. How she came into the work of a chauffeur, and if she moonlit as any other profession.
But Adrian’s internal monologue was interrupted by the kind of name that piqued the ear of anyone dallying in the dance of power. He smiled with his answer, although he wasn’t sure why until he examined the expression with which Natalie asked. She was straight to the point, and he had to assume the plainness of her question was to demonstrate her closer proximity to power than his.
“I have seen him from afar but have not had the pleasure to meet our Ascendancy in person,” he answered without hesitation, although the rote way with which he spoke of the most powerful man on earth may or may not have been for the benefit of the ears of the presumed driver.
“Why do you ask? You’re not taking me to some secret country estate to make the introduction, are you?”
“We just left somewhere fashionable, and fresh air and fashion are never found in the same place. You’ll need to make up your mind which it is you want,” he said with the hint of a tease.
Accustomed to the leisure of riding backseat, Adrian lounged comfortably as familiar sights blurred by. Although the longer he sat idle without a task on hand to occupy his attention, the more his eyes roamed. A crane loomed a block to the south. Its flickering lights signaling its towering strength. Although out of sight, he knew the parcel of buildings beneath were under extensive construction. Practically a rebuild, according to the project plans. He wasn’t so involved in the mighty Moscow real estate world to own the block. Nor did he own the construction company. Nor rent the equipment, steel, labor, or scaffolds. Nothing so glamorous and cutthroat as that.
Their chat was soon shadowed by Natalie’s anecdote. A poor review of the city was not the kind of thing to publicize. Olympus did not deign to acknowledge the existence of an underworld when one most definitely existed. They banished their undesirables to darkness and despair and pretended that out of sight equated to no threat. But Adrian knew better. He knew the foundation of any great city was built upon the backs of those preferred to be kept out of sight. The trash bins and portable toilets his forgotten, lonely company provided that construction site kept the work ongoing, but when shit piles up (literal and figurative), progress grinds to an expensive halt.
His gaze fell upon the dark-haired driver about then. Another forgotten soul. He wondered who she was. How she came into the work of a chauffeur, and if she moonlit as any other profession.
But Adrian’s internal monologue was interrupted by the kind of name that piqued the ear of anyone dallying in the dance of power. He smiled with his answer, although he wasn’t sure why until he examined the expression with which Natalie asked. She was straight to the point, and he had to assume the plainness of her question was to demonstrate her closer proximity to power than his.
“I have seen him from afar but have not had the pleasure to meet our Ascendancy in person,” he answered without hesitation, although the rote way with which he spoke of the most powerful man on earth may or may not have been for the benefit of the ears of the presumed driver.
“Why do you ask? You’re not taking me to some secret country estate to make the introduction, are you?”