I followed Operator Liliana down the narrow, dim corridor of the yacht. The laughter and music from the deck faded behind us, leaving only the soft hum of the waves and our footsteps on polished wood. Liliana wore her emerald-green gown, its silky folds whispering as she moved.
Her hair, usually pinned back, fell in loose waves over her shoulders. It seemed like she didn't ware any make-up.
'Does she usually put on make-up to look worse?'
She stopped at a heavy mahogany door and pressed a finger to her lips.
"Don't ask questions," she whispered. "Just listen. It is great grace that he grants you this meeting."
I nodded. Liliana rapped on the door in three quick taps. A deep voice answered, and the door swung open. I stepped inside.
