A Baby for the Billionaire

35

KEREM

Me: Is he bothering you?

Her: Good evening, Mr. Deniz. Who are you referring to?

Me: Ian. He can be really tiresome at times... I noticed that he was distracting you while you were trying to work at the restaurant.

Her: Ooh! You were there then.

Me: I was just passing by and saw something.

Her: It's ok, I'm already in the room.

She is alone.

Her: I mean, I didn't come into the room with him.

Me: Don't worry, you don't have to explain to me. Good night Juliet.

Her: Good evening, Mr. Deniz.

As I put down my phone, I keep thinking about her and about what happened today, when we barely crossed paths. Exchanging some messages with Juliet relieves me a bit, but to tell the truth, a part of me would have been okay with seeing her one more time. So I write her a new message: "Tomorrow I would like you to tell me about your work. See you at 7.30am in meeting room B for breakfast, the rooms are in the basement."

And I send it.

My heart is beating hard. I don't want those horrible palpitations to come again or whatever is happening to me due to the closeness with Juliet.

I can't shake the image of her with Ian.

He was never a very good friend, only Elijah was. But I always disliked that when we met Zara, they seemed too nice like great friends, but before me they didn't know each other.

I'm not a big fan of social networks, but I opted for an idea that I see as the only alternative now and that is to review Juliet's social media profile. She has something on Instagram, but her account is private. I check the website for language educators and I see a post that highlights its good score and reception from other subscribers. Everyone sees the same potential that I see in her, but I'm proud of myself for noticing that I was the first to discover her true and immense potential.

I still don't feel completely calm, I get to the hotel and go to my room and keep checking the instagram profiles. I do something that I hadn't done up to now, which is look at Zara's profile. Her photos bring back to me times of happiness: our spiritual trip to Indonesia that was a true experience of depth of the soul, proposed by my wife. The day Ali was born, the one who gave me the news of her pregnancy and uploaded it on social networks, the photographs of our trip to Florence, Milan and Rome, in which she was half pregnant and spent all the flights vomiting. Then I continue with the photos of her events, of her exhibitions, of her successful working life that she intended to recover and I was so stubborn that I didn't know how to notice that she should have taken her own reins back a long time ago.

There's another photo from about a year before she was pregnant with Ali. There's one at the Canadian fashion studio where she was notified about her merit award in her field, which made me happy for her, but I didn't like that the day she went to receive the award coincided with an urgent trip that I had in Brazil. I wasn't there for her when she needed me, she always was for me.

In the Instagram photo, she can be seen very happy with other entrepreneurs and businesswomen, also with Yaman, who is a colleague with whom she had a nice friendship. He is gay and the closeness of both was mutually supportive every time. But I also see a photo of her next to Ian. He lives in Canada and it was an excellent opportunity that he was able to go to support her in receiving her award.

If it had been done when it was the initial date, I could have gone. But no, they had to move it and I was already left out of those plans.

Now she was going to go back to Canada and never made it.

But...what about the stopover to Madrid? I asked them not to tell me anything about it from the airline, although my lawyer who was at work with the cause, surely he could talk to them.

I consider talking to him, still resting my thumb on Zara's post until I am distracted by a comment from Ian.

"Congratulations Zara. I always said that you are a fascinating woman, more awards and recognitions will come because you deserve it."

And some hearts.

Why do I feel like that comment suddenly bothers me, added to the fact that Ian could have been there that day?

I stay thinking for a few moments until I go to her other posts. Ian puts hearts on it and likes all of them.

No.

I don't like...anything about this.

I scroll through and go to Ian's profile. In this he is shown as a millionaire, young, successful and renowned businessman, with hundreds of girls in his comments dripping with drool over him. Zara isn't in these posts, so he was probably after her.

I go back to Zara's profile.

In her publication where she looked very cheerful next to him, but my intuition speaks and if something characterizes me it is that I know well when to follow what she dictates.

I search my contact list and dial the chief systems operator at the investment firm to which I belong.

I haven't talked to him in a long time, but I have always been very curious about his work. I consider that the markets that are worked in digital are crucial for our performance.

Answer after several rings.

"Mr. Deniz?" he asks.

"Emmett. I did not want to wake you up."

"Don't worry, I was on the computer. What's going on?"

"Of course, you're always there... But today it's very useful for me."

"Why?"

"I need you to do me a favor. Do you know of any hacker who is professional, confidential and would do a job for me?"

"Hmm, what kind of job do you need?"

"When a cell phone is destroyed and is lost...among...a pile of ashes and rubble...does its information remain in the cloud?"

"What kind of information?"

"Messages from WhatsApp, Instagram, calls, everything that is private."

"Yes. Chats are not destroyed. It's not complex at all, I know how to do it, but what are you trying to do Mr Deniz?"

"Emmet, I need to access my wife's personal information. In particular, all her correspondence with a single person."

"Sir, that information..."

"It's urgent." I need to know now or I won't be able to live in peace. I want to know if my wife expected to meet a man other than me on her trip to Canada, where she died.