| Hawaaon Ke Paighaam | Messages Of The Wind

| Billionaires Bay: Lounge One |

But now Malik had pissed him off, and pissed him off enough for Murtasim to let the man know exactly who he was dealing with.

"Aap kisaano ko dekhiye, woh theek honay chahiyein. Jis jis ko chot lagi hai uska poora ilaaj karwaein aur logon ko tassali dein. Baaki mera kaam hai."

Finishing the call, Murtasim got up and walked over the side of the lounge facing the coast. He hadn't gone home in a while. He usually visited frequently, but then there were certain things keeping him here which hadn't been present before. He'd go in the few days. There were things requiring his attention and he whilst there, he could kill two birds with one stone.

There was a conversation he needed to have with his mother; a loose-end he needed to take care of. He couldn't allow it go unaddressed; not when his relationship with his wife hung precariously in the balance. And because if there was anything a technically-trained man was weary of, it was loose-ends; he was wired to believe that loose-ends clung to nearby weaknesses and almost always caused catastrophes down the line. It was like playing Russian roulette, and Murtasim didn't leave things to chance. Calculated strikes were his thing; control of the situation and influence on the outcome was paramount.

His mother was not going to like it, but he also hadn't liked it when the innocent girl he'd married had stood in front him in his living room, and looked at him the same way a plaintiff looked at a defendant. Actions had reactions, and his mother was now going to be on the receiving end of his.

Murtasim looked out of the glass panel and let out a deep breath, blinking to dissipate his thoughts. The sun had risen and the crystal-blue water glistened as waves lapped up to the shore. The view from here was second only to the view from his penthouse terrace, and both were things he loved to start his mornings with. He hadn't planned on using Lounge One for his daily schedule when he'd started conducting business here, but over the years it had become a comfortable routine.

The concept of the lounges had started as a joke between him, Omar and an interior designer friend of theirs; Omar had just bought the plot of land the Mandarin was built upon and they'd called Ramiz to survey the land and give estimates about the size of the prospective hotel.

In a fortuitous turn of events, both Murtasim and Omar had been standing in the very spot Murtasim was now when they'd received the news of their latest venture succeeding. The investment had made them both billionaires, and Ramiz had since joked about knowing exactly what to design for the area.

The result had been spectacular; the Billionaires Bay Lounges were exclusive to the Mandarin and Murtasim's favourite spot in the hotel, excluding his own penthouse.

The door opening had him turn around to reveal a tired-looking Omar. Murtasim raised an eyebrow as his friend sauntered in and fell back on the sofa, groaning out loud. It seemed everyone had had a late night, and the reason for his own seemed to still be asleep.

"Good morning to you too." Murtasim's voice was wry as he walked over the sofa and sat back.

A disgruntled hmph was the only response he received just as the door opened again and his morning coffee was wheeled in. Both men leaned back and crossed their legs as their drinks were placed in front of them; Murtasim's espresso and an Arabic coffee for Omar.

Omar looked up at Murtasim and spoke as the server left.

"Had the best sushi in Dubai last night."

Murtasim smirked; it wasn't uncommon for them to fly the short distance to Dubai for dinner, but something in his friend's demeanour told him he wasn't the only one who'd been on a date last night.

"Training underway?"

"Hmm." Murtasim nodded, taking a sip.

"There's been silence from the Latvians for too long. It doesn't follow the pattern they've had so far. Baba is anxious. The sooner the staff are trained, the better."