“Nhụy Kiều, raise window tint to fifty percent and open the sheer curtains,” Askatla kept her hand trained on the still closed window as the room dimmed and the curtains opened to reveal a silhouette waving genially at her. The way his hand stopped mid-wave the moment she rested the fingertips of her left hand to her forehead in disbelief gave her the disturbing impression he could see her despite the tinting. “Open the windows.”

“Buenas noches, Señorita,”2 came a familiar sensual bass. The cavaliero had returned, making her wonder which was closer to his real voice. “I apologise for…