Codename lotus, p.26
Codename Lotus, page 26
Residence: Gloucestershire, U.K.
Contact Information: See attached.
Occupation: Orchestrator of international criminal activity, including high-profile assassinations and theft.
Background: Alleged architect of Manish Singh’s murder. Utilizes mercenaries and hackers to undermine entities and estates for financial gain.
Below you’ll find a series of emails between Edward Harrow and Mohan Singh, revealing significant developments following Manish Singh’s death.
Key findings:
After Manish’s death, Harrow contacted Mohan Singh to collect the funds Manish had stolen.
Harrow’s men pursued Saanya Singh, tipped that she might hold a cryptocurrency key linked to the stolen funds.
Mohan proposed paying Harrow for Manish’s theft himself and asked for time to consolidate resources.
Over the past four months, the narrative changed: Mohan informed Harrow of his family’s potential claim over GlobalLink and offered him a cut in exchange for Harrow dropping any retaliation for Manish Singh’s theft.
Four months. The exact span since Saanya left Geneva and went to Mumbai with him.
Mohan Singh.
“She’s sleeping under the enemy’s roof,” I breathed, then scrolled to the last line.
Notably, a recent exchange mentions a “target” slated for elimination. No names specified.
“Oh God.” The room tilted. “Saanya.” My fingers locked around the barstool. “What did that sick bastard get you into?”
The beeping from the security system told me someone had opened the front door. Seconds later, Allison swept in with a garment bag, keys, and a coffee cup she set on the island.
“Naomi, are you okay?” She reached for my shoulders, searching my face. “You look pale. What happened?”
I barely heard her. “Call the pilot.”
“What? Why? You have a cocktail party in an hour.”
That ridiculous party. I was already walking to my closet, undoing the robe. “I need to go to London.”
“London? But your London deal signing isn’t until next week. Naomi, what’s going on?” She followed me into my dressing room, which thankfully was spacious. I was two seconds from hyperventilating. Calm down. You can’t afford that.
“You lost me a glass of wine ago. What happened while I was gone?”
“I found him,” I said, riffling through hangers.
“What? Found who? Oh my God—what is happening?!”
I met her eyes. “Him.”
“Wait, the thugs’ boss?!”
I lowered my gaze to her pale fingers closed around my arm.
She released me at once. “Sorry. Reflex.”
…
I shed the robe and slid into a pair of slacks. Something more appropriate for what lay ahead than a socialite’s cocktail party.
“And you’re just going to show up at his door?”
“I’m not stupid, Allison. I am going to approach him as a business owner, a potential investor.” I threw on a Christian Dior jacket and fixed the collar on the back of my neck. “From what I’ve read, he likes money and power.” I crossed to the nightstand, fastening my watch. “And I happen to have both.”
Allison’s jaw dropped. “Why are you putting that on? You have a party to get to.” She was short-circuiting.
“Have you not been listening? I am going to London.”
“No offense, Naomi, but I think you’ve gone off the rails.”
She shrank under my glare.
“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
“I have no other options.”
“W-well. Then I’m coming with.”
I fixed the sleeves of my shirt, tucking them under my jacket. “No, you are not. It’s too dangerous.”
“I own a licensed gun,” Allison blurted.
“Here in the U.S., Allison. And this isn’t some episode of Charlie’s Angels.”
“But you’re dressing for one, about to go face a crime lord. What about your bodyguards—Naomi, your new U.S. detail doesn’t have overseas clearance yet. And I don’t have anyone scheduled in London until next week. Wait. Holt does. I know he’s on vacation but—” She was already pulling out her phone.
I didn’t slow as I reached for my handbag.
“No.”
She froze. “No…as in no security?”
I slipped my phone into my pocket. “Yes.”
Allison stared at me like I’d just stepped off a ledge. “That’s—”
“Not up for discussion,” I said evenly. “I won’t arrive with an entourage. I won’t alert anyone. And I won’t wait.”
“But Naomi—”
“Call the pilot. Now, Allison.”
She huffed like a petulant child.
We landed at Farnborough Airport and slid into the car Allison had arranged. George—pepper-haired, sober-eyed, and discreet—had driven me for years. At least her panic hadn’t impaired her ability to do her job. She’d been insufferable on the flight.
Not long after, the city gave way to the countryside. I made the call from the back seat.
“Mr. Harrow, I believe the fact that I’m calling you directly speaks for itself. No intermediaries, just a direct proposition. From me to you.”
Beside me, Allison typed a message, deleted it, typed again, and deleted it the moment she caught my glance. Apparently fear made her ballsy.
“My affairs in the U.K. are brief,” I continued. “Time is a commodity I value greatly.”
There were two things one had to learn to succeed in business: create the ache for what only one could provide, and deliver it so cleanly that the other thinks it was their idea.
Allison’s thumbs hovered:
In London, Naomi is trying to meet a crime lord. Has lost her mind. S.O.S.
She deleted it as soon as she caught my glare.
Every successful businessperson knew how to create a ruse, which was why people like Saanya needed protecting—and people like me probably deserved to meet Satan face-to-face.
“Isn’t it proof enough of my intentions that I’ve reached out to you? This meeting could be mutually beneficial.”
“Oh, yes, because direct confrontation with a crime lord is such a brilliant plan,” Allison murmured.
I knifed her with a glare sharp enough to cut through the scent of leather and perspiration. My nose crinkled. “Sunday it is,” I said, and Allison exhaled like she’d won a war.
Her leg kept bouncing restlessly and she started biting her nails.
“Honestly, Allison—get a hold of yourself.”
“I still think we should call Sidharth.”
“No.”
“With all due respect, Naomi. You are the most stubborn human being on the planet.”
I smirked at the window. “Who said I was human?”
“At least you waited till Sunday,” she said, checking her watch and the view. “That gives us time to prepare. You need bodyguards. Hell, I’ll go in with you, but you can’t do this alon—”
We passed a sign for Gloucestershire and more green seams of countryside. Her thumb hovered over Sidharth’s name again.
“If you so much as tap that screen, consider yourself unemployed.”
Her mouth opened, then shut. She tried to transmit common sense with her eyes. I crossed my arms and watched hedgerows blur.
“We’re almost there, Miss Smith-Chopra,” George said.
“This is…secluded,” Allison said, scanning the trees. “Where are we? This isn’t the way to Claridge’s.”
George met my eyes in the rearview mirror. I gave him the slightest nod.
“Allison,” I said flatly.
She ignored me. “We’re on a tight schedule here,” she told George.
When he stayed silent, she turned back, narrowing her eyes. “Wait. No. Naomi. Oh hell no.”
She dove into her contacts and finally tapped that damned screen. “You weren’t talking to him just now, were you? Of course not. You just did it to shut me up. Oh my God. You had already set the appointment. When? When I went to the bathroom on the jet or when you sent me to talk to the pilot?”
I rubbed my forehead, closing my eyes.
Sidharth answered on the second ring. “Hello, Allison? Everything all right?”
“You’re crazy,” she hissed at me. “I just can’t believe you did this, I—” Her jaw dropped.
“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.”
“What?” Sid said. “Help? Is Naomi there with you?”
“No.” I leaned into the phone.
“Yes, she is! And she’s about to go rogue!”
“Rogue?”
George slowed at a black iron gate where a handful of men in suits stood outside.
“George,” I said, “do as I told you. Go somewhere safe and don’t come back until I call you.”
“Of course, Miss Smith-Chopra.”
“What? No!”
I leaned forward. “Allison, you sound hysterical.”
“What’s going on? Nadee?” Sidharth’s voice cut through Allison’s meltdown and my annoyance. “Naomi, where are you?”
“In the U.K.! Somewhere in Gloucestershire about to get murdered!” Allison shouted into the phone.
I rolled my eyes, stepped out of the car, and shut the door. Her voice cut off to a muffled yell behind the glass.
A black SUV waited beyond the gate. A stocky man with a surveillance earpiece stood beside it.
I adjusted my jacket and tuned out Allison’s racket as George started to pull the car out.
She was still at the window, face pressed to the glass, her shout dampened. “Open this!” she yelled as George finally drove off. “Naomiiii—”
For God’s sake.
One of the men waved me forward once George was gone.
I slid into the SUV.
The door sealed, shutting me into a claustrophobic ride through the woods.
They took my phone at the door, after a very thorough search. Apparently Harrow left nothing to chance.
His office was all whiskey oak, ancestral portraits, and a fireplace that burned too hot. Or maybe that was my nerves. I lifted my chin and set my face neutral.
The heavy drapes behind his leather chair framed two tall windows that looked out over perfectly manicured grounds, right in the middle of nowhere. The same gnarled woods we’d driven through with The Hawk at the wheel. Those cold, unblinking eyes in the rearview mirror had followed me all the way here. They were following me now—watchdog by the door, out on bail, no doubt. A tattoo dipped from under his collar: a hawk mid-dive, talons buried in a severed human hand.
The reminder that I’d just been trapped in a closed space with a rapist and murderer who had a dismembering fetish made my stomach tighten.
Had been? You’re still trapped.
“Hope ma dogs didna scare ye much,” Harrow said, stepping in. He looked old-school Scottish and sounded it too. The air suddenly turned musty with a faint whiff of spicy, woody cologne.
Dogs. How fitting.
“I’m not easily scared,” I said, crossing my legs.
“Hm.” His voice was crushed gravel. “So. What do ye want?” He toyed with a silver letter opener, then picked up an envelope with an air of ease that bordered on insult.
“I want you to leave Saanya Hazra alone.”
He paused mid-cut. “I thought ye were here for business.”
“Saanya Hazra is my business.”
He flicked a glance at a guard, who slipped out. The room closed in around me instantly.
Harrow drifted to the window, hands in his pockets. “A storm is brewin’,” he said, almost idle. “Ground softens before a squall. Easier tae move without sound. Good for huntin’.” He turned, curiosity edged with something sinister. “Ever notice how quiet the woods get right before it? Even beasts ken when tae hide.”
I remained silent, observing as he sat again and matched my gaze.
“Have ye ever skinned a deer?” he asked lightly. “Alive?”
“Can’t—say that I have.” I aimed for steady.
His lips curled into a smile. “Of course, ye haven’t. Ye’re a lady. Well, they howl just as humans do,” he said, slicing another envelope. “Then they go quiet, shake a bit, eyes roll. Is it shock, pain—couldna tell ye which.” He smirked. “Never asked ‘em.”
A chill froze my spine. But I gave him nothing.
“That bastard Singh didna deserve even that,” he added. “Which is why he died like a rat. I’ve nothin’ against his wife. I’m sure she’s a lady like yerself.”
“Then why terrorize her? Trashing someone’s place isn’t friendly foreplay. Stalking her points of interest?”
He laughed, slow and rough. “Ye’ve got big baws, hen.”
I held his gaze.
“She has somethin’ that’s mine,” he said at last.
“Yours?”
“Aye. Like I told ye, I’ve nothin’ against her. This is only a job. Business between Mohan Singh and maself.”
“Business he wants you to finish. What—kill Saanya too, so that he can take over GlobalLink?”
His eyes sharpened, surprise flickering before his grin reset. “Oh, I ken about the lass and the bairn. She’s no’ the one runnin’ the show though, is she?”
What?
“What d’ye know about GlobalLink?”
That confirmed it. Mohan Singh, you filthy rat.
“GlobalLink is my latest venture,” I lied, steady. On the flight, Arjun had mocked up a plausible cover, Thera Corp’s disastrous financials re-skinned to look like an acquisition vehicle for GlobalLink. It was a stretch, and I’d probably become fertilizer for Harrow’s garden if this blew up in my face, but if he bought it, maybe he’d leave Saanya alone.
His brow knit. “Eh. What?”
“My deal with Vikram Hazra is nearly closed. GlobalLink will be dismantled and sold in parts,” I said. “Which is why your interest in a financially troubled company struck me as odd. Your interest in my deal.”
“GlobalLink is in the red?”
Lying to Harrow was a gamble, but I’d crossed that line long ago. Now, it was only a matter of how much further I was willing to go before I lost myself completely. It wasn’t just about saving Saanya—it was about protecting what was left of us. I needed her safe. Wherever she was and would be after this, I wanted her free and happy.
You can’t back away now.
I spread my hands on his desk. “The consumer market is changing daily. We have adults walking around in Crocs and socks, for heaven’s sake. GlobalLink refuses to adapt—either to those habits or to the demand for sustainability and ethical sourcing. In a market that prioritizes transparency and responsibility, their outdated ethos is a fatal flaw. As a businessman, how can you be surprised?” The value of good old ego stroking, especially when it came to men, never failed.
A flicker of interest lit his eyes. “A load of shite, surely. Prove it.”
“Well, if your dog would be so kind as to fetch my cell phone,” I said, sliding a look at the terrorizing little shit who’d chased after Saanya for so many months. “I could solidify my claim.”
“And what is Saanya Singh tae ye?”
“Not relevant. What matters is the opportunity I’m offering. I’ll cover what Manish stole. You forget the Hazras exist.”
“Ye’re well informed.” His brow lifted.
“And Manish did steal from you, didn’t he?”
“Aye, Manish Singh crossed me.”
“And then you killed him.”
He laughed without humor. “And ye’re willing to pay the debt? It’s no small sum.”
Admitting to murder without fear of consequence. Harrow was indeed above the law. Sidharth and I had been so far in over our heads this entire time.
“It’s why I chopped the bastard’s hands off.”
Manish was indeed a bastard, but I hoped Saanya hadn’t been informed of that gruesome detail. She didn’t have that kind of heart. She would never wish anyone a torturous death. Not even trash like Manish Singh.
“How much did he steal?”
“It wisna three quid.”
Arjun had given us a ballpark amount. I knew I could maneuver what he was after, but it was now my business wits against his. “I am sure I can offer something more substantial than what you can get by enforcing revenge. Eighty million pounds and you leave them alone.”
He laughed in my face. “Think I’m daft, do ye? You’ve still got nothin’ solid tae show me. And ye’re a couple hundred million short.”
The Hawk returned with my phone, and I pulled up the files. Thera Corp’s horrible last two quarters presented as GlobalLink’s, of course. Harrow scrolled. His curiosity soured into fury, icy blue eyes hardening like marbles.
“Singh, ye bastard,” he growled.
I plucked the phone back before it met the wall. It was my only way out of this morbid void. “As you see, Singh has been betting on a dead horse. It’s eighty million or scraps. So, do we have a deal?”
He was still for a beat, eyes boring into mine.
“Aye. But I want one forty.”
I leaned in, unblinking.
“Ninety. And you walk away looking like the man who won.”
That earned me a deliberate, sleazy once-over meant to size me up like merchandise.
A slow smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.
“Ye’re a cheeky wee devil,” he muttered. “One hundred.”
I didn’t flinch. “Fine.”
He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Christ Almighty…ye just made me take less than half o’ what the bastard stole.”
His eyes dragged over me again—slower this time, openly appraising. “Wi’ a face like that and a body tae match, if ye’d pushed a bit more, I’d have caved at seventy. Feisty one, are ye?”
For a split second something churned inside me—disgust, calculation, the familiar realization that men like him always believed desire was the only weapon women could wield in a business negotiation.
I let that flicker die and answered coolly:
“Funny, I would have given you the one forty.”
That wiped the satisfaction off his face.
