chsdbacks Chapter 698: Shadows of Sponsorship & Endorsement (Part 2)
Chapter 698: Shadows of Sponsorship & Endorsement (Part 2)
Midnight arrived with the estate wrapped in stillness.Don stepped into the study wearing a simple black pajama set edged with red accents that hugged his frame comfortably.
Miss Claire was already seated at the desk, her nightgown of fine silk falling softly around her, the hem revealing the smooth, milky expanse of her legs up to her lower thighs.
The sight drew his gaze for a brief moment before he reined it in. She gestured to the chair opposite her, the laptop open between them once more.
They settled in. The room held the lingering scent of aged wood and faint traces of an earlier fire, the only light coming from the desk lamp and the screen's glow.
"There is an interesting potential job I wished to bring to your attention," Miss Claire began, her voice low and clear as she turned the laptop slightly toward him.
The screen displayed a detailed profile of three pieces.
A crown stood prominent—crafted from what appeared to be white gold interwoven with filigree that formed detailed patterns of interlocking leaves and blooming flowers, each petal edged with tiny sapphires that caught the light like captured stars.
A central ruby the size of a quail's egg anchored the front, surrounded by diamonds cut in antique rose shapes. A necklace complemented it perfectly: a heavy chain of matched gold links supporting a pendant that mirrored the crown's central motif, layered with emeralds and pearls arranged in cascading tiers that looked of royal opulence.
Beside them lay matching earrings and a bracelet, each bearing the same masterful handiwork—engraved crests too fine for modern replication, stones chosen for both beauty and symbolic weight.
Miss Claire leaned forward slightly, one hand resting near the laptop.
"These are the Crown Jewels of the Kingdom of Huisenraad, taken during its fall to the neighboring realm of Veldtmark in 1847. The conqueror's king later presented them as a bridal gift to a princess of the House of Zahiri from the Persianate monarchy of Al'Shirin. She was assassinated mere days before the wedding, yet it has long been believed she was interred with the full set."
Her tone remained smooth, almost melodic, as she continued. "As of two days ago, a reliable source indicates the location of her resting place has been uncovered in the contested border region between Iran and Iraq. That territory, however, falls under the control of a terrorist faction convinced both nations have strayed from the true path. They have already begun excavating. Reports confirm they recovered the symbol of House Zahiri."
Don listened, surprise settling in his chest despite the calm elegance of her delivery.
Infiltrating an enemy-controlled zone in that part of the world carried obvious dangers—local superhumans, armed militants, uncertain terrain.
His mind mapped the risks even as excitement flickered beneath them. A real operation. High stakes. Tangible rewards.
Miss Claire met his eyes. "Your mission would be to infiltrate their camp as you deem fit. Confirm whether it is truly the tomb. And if it is… retrieve one piece, or the entire set."
He absorbed the words, fingers tapping once against the arm of his chair. The room felt smaller with the weight of it.
Yet the challenge pulled at him. "Yes, I am interested. When do I need to be ready?"
"Tomorrow."
The single word hung between them. Don held her gaze a moment longer, the laptop screen still casting its glow across her features and the silk of her nightgown.
'Tomorrow,' he thought, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The quiet days had ended.
The following morning dawned clear over Miss Claire's estate.
Samantha, Summer, and Sylvia stood just outside the grand rear doors that opened onto the manicured garden grounds, their attention fixed on the helicopter waiting on the landing pad.
The rotors turned slowly in idle preparation.
Don walked toward the aircraft beside Miss Claire.
He wore a brown long-sleeved turtleneck that fit snug across his shoulders, paired with black khaki pants and sturdy black boots. Aviators shielded his eyes from the morning glare.
Miss Claire moved with her characteristic poise in loose brown pants, a crisp white top beneath an elegant light jacket, sunglasses perched on her nose, and a wide-brimmed hat that cast a soft shadow across her features.
Winter followed a few steps behind, carrying their suitcases with effortless efficiency.
Summer watched the procession with a deep frown, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "How come Don is the only one allowed to leave whenever he wants?"
Samantha placed a gentle hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Oh, don't be like that. You know it's dangerous out there right now. Miss Claire has some important business to handle and hired Don as a bodyguard. It's a good way for him to earn some money at the moment."
The story had been carefully crafted to avoid questions. Samantha had been skeptical at first, but the assurance of no real danger and decent pay had eased her concerns.
She had still pulled Don aside earlier though, insisting he call frequently.
Summer offered no further protest, though her expression remained doubtful.
Sylvia, standing slightly apart, watched with a pronounced pout. "I wanted to go too," she muttered under her breath. 'I could have stayed with Don while Mom meets with clients.'
Don and Miss Claire reached the chopper. Its interior present with luxury—plush leather seats, polished wood accents, and tinted windows that muted the outside light.
Two pilots sat upfront, focused on their pre-flight checks. Winter loaded the suitcases into the designated compartment, then turned to Don. "I will coordinate as best as I can with you from here. Travel safe."
"Thanks," Don replied simply. The door sealed with a solid **~THUNK~**, and the rotors picked up speed. The helicopter lifted smoothly, the estate grounds shrinking below.
Don glanced down through the window. Samantha waved vigorously, her figure growing smaller.
Summer spun on her heel, whipping her hair as she stalked back inside. Sylvia offered a smaller wave, her pout lingering even at a distance.
Miss Claire settled into her seat across from him. "Are you worried about your family?"
Don leaned back, the engine's steady vibration thrumming through the cabin. "Yes. But I trust they'll be okay. I just don't like lying to them."
Miss Claire nodded, her gaze steady. "I feel the same about Sylvia. But sometimes lies are necessary. Don't you agree?"
He met her eyes and gave a slow nod. They both reclined deeper into the seats as the helicopter drifted higher into the skies, the estate vanishing behind them.
---
A day later, they sat in business class aboard a commercial airliner, their appearances transformed.
Miss Claire wore a black and gold accented hijab that framed her face with elegant folds, paired with a smart casual Arabic-style dress in deep navy fabric that flowed modestly yet accentuated her figure with subtle tailoring.
Don had donned a traditional white thobe that reached his ankles, complemented by a silver watch on his wrist and simple white runners.
An air hostess approached their row and collected the serving tray. "Anything else, Mr. Karimi?"
"No, thank you," Don replied evenly. She offered a polite smile and moved on.
Miss Claire kept her attention on a religious text open in her lap, turning pages with silent focus.
Where she appeared cool and collected, Don absorbed the unfamiliar sensations.
Leaving the United Provinces. Traveling under a fake passport and identity. Entering a country that, in his old world, operated as an Islamic Republic, but here stood as a kingdom governed by eight great families under the Shahanshah.
The weight of it pressed on him, yet he kept his expression neutral and focused on the mission ahead.
The plane touched down without incident. They cleared checks smoothly and transferred to a prearranged vehicle that carried them to the Hotel Persepolis Royale in the city of Kermanshah.
Don had never heard the name in his former life, but here it thrived as a well-developed hub drawing tourists to its intact palaces and ancient ruins near the border.
The hotel rose grandly, its architecture echoing classical Persian design—domed roofs, intricate tilework in blues and golds, towering arches, and fountains that flowed in the courtyard.
Inside, the lobby bustled with travelers from many cultures: flowing robes, modern suits, headscarves in vibrant patterns, and conversations blending Farsi, Arabic, English, and other tongues.
Don took the lead at reception, as custom dictated. "We have a reservation under Darius Karimi."
The clerk nodded efficiently and handed over the keycard after confirming details. "Welcome, Mr. Karimi and Mrs. Karimi."
Their suite proved spacious when they reached it , blending Persian grandeur with hidden modern comforts.
Ornate carpets covered marble floors, carved wooden panels lined the walls, and a large bed dominated the sleeping area beneath a ceiling painted with delicate floral motifs.
Subtle touches like a entertainment system and climate controls nestled seamlessly behind the traditional aesthetic.
Once inside, Miss Claire removed her hijab, letting her hair fall free as she drew the heavy curtains closed.
Don set the luggage down with a soft **~THUMP~** while she retrieved her laptop and a small encrypted phone from her belongings.
She typed a brief message, and waited. The device buzzed moments later. She read it, then looked at Don.
"I've confirmed our arrival. Your handler will retrieve you for the mission at 10 PM. Everything you should need has already been provided." She checked the time. "Use these hours to rest."
Don nodded. "What will you be doing?"
"I'll enjoy the sights as a tourist," she replied lightly, "far removed from what you will be doing."
He had expected her to play a larger role, perhaps something that might draw them closer. The realization settled with mild disappointment, though he kept it from his face. "Understood."
Miss Claire offered a small, knowing smile before turning back to her preparations.
The suite fell into silence, the distant sounds of the city filtering faintly through the windows as evening approached.
Don settled onto the edge of the bed, mind already turning toward the night ahead.
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A/N: I'm slowly trying to be a bit more fast paced in this volume because there is so much to unpack that I'm not too sure what to provide in summary and what to provide in detail. Let me know what you think so far.