I dreamed about Como last night. And hated every bit of myself when I woke up from dreaming.

I wish I could express the amount of sadness and dread I felt when I realized I do not need to wake up before 11 am for breakfast. I wanted to cry out like a baby. But the walls of my apartments are so thin that I could hear my neighbors moaning every night. So, screaming for another trip to Como was not going to do any good to me.

It was drizzling outside and at 6 in the morning, I knew that the infamous greyish, London sun was already up. I had an evening shift today at the hospital. So, no rush whatsoever for chores.

I cleaned myself up and had an early breakfast of my sad, sad toast and scrambled eggs with some nuts and fruits. And I unzipped my luggage to unpack everything. When I was putting my clothes in the washer, a folded paper fell from their folds.

My birthday wish card from my stalker. Julia knew who he was, but she hid his identity from me.

I opened it up and brushed my fingers across the lines.

".... May All the Stars shine brighter for you,

May All the Stars wrap their beauty around you...."

Well, he had nice handwriting.

Maybe to Julia, he was a good guy. Determined to get answers, I decided to confront Julia about his identity when she visited London in May. For now, I tucked the card away in one of my suitcases' pockets, keeping it safe.

Later in the day, I made a trip to the local Aldi store for groceries, cooked both lunch and dinner and packed my dinner to take with me to the hospital, where I headed to work on my evening shift. The hospital's distinct smell made me nauseous as I changed into my scrubs, and I explained it away to concerned nurses as a PMS-related discomfort, not wanting to share the real reason for my discomfort.

We had two laparoscopies and three appendicitis surgeries today. I assisted the Professor. Some of my patients were post-operative, I had the check up on them, access their surgical wounds, and re-bandage some of them. We admitted new patients for pancreatitis, hernias, and so on.

My shift was supposed to end at 11 p.m. But I became free from all the rounds and duties at 10. I had my dinner at Doctor's Lounge. My Professor Dr. Scott came to have dinner as well. He knew I was on vacation. He asked me how it went. I didn't tell him much about my staying at Hotel Caelus, but I excitedly told him about my free Business class experiences.

He gazed at me with questions in his eyes.

"You never went to business class before?"

I shook my head; I was grinning ear to ear.

"You know business class does not provide such experience to the customers. Even first-class passengers don't get what you have. You know this, right?" he asked me with doubts in his voice.

Did the thought I was lying to him?

"I am not lying, they wanted me to upgrade to first class, but they apologized profusely! Though they gave me first class amenities kit to use." I added.

"How many times have you flown to British Airways?"

"First time," I replied.

"You asked for an upgrade?"

"No. I was too busy at Como."

Scott was confused as hell. His eyes were clear enough to tell me that he did not believe a word I told him. I sighed. I couldn't do anything if someone didn't want to believe me.

My colleague, Suzy, dropped me off at my apartment. We both lived in Camden and whenever our shifts aligned, we'd share a ride to work. Suzy was kind enough to provide transportation, while I, despite knowing how to drive, remained too timid to take the wheel. The fear of causing harm to an innocent stranger always loomed large in my mind.

As I approached my apartment building, I noticed a black BMW parked outside. What struck me as odd was that the license plate was hidden from view. Parking like that had to be illegal, I thought. It occupied a space between my building and the neighboring one, making it difficult to determine who the owner might be. The car's windows were heavily tinted, obstructing my view of anyone inside. Even the front window had a dark tint, leaving me intrigued and slightly uneasy.

What the fuck? Whose car was this? 

Isn't this illegal??

I looked all around me. Only innocent bystanders of 12 a.m. were visible.

Whatever, it was none of my business. I had always hated poking my nose on someone else's business. I went back to my place without being too curious.

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The rest of my weeks were boring and uneventful. I kept in touch with Julia over the phone and added her as a friend on Facebook, where I could see that she was living her best life.

One day, out of sheer boredom, I decided to Google the Volkners. I wasn't surprised to find that they were nearly invisible on the World Wide Web. While there was plenty of news and information about their businesses and operations, there was little to no information about the people behind these vast enterprises. The Volkners were known as the largest weapon manufacturers on Earth, exclusively supplying the US military, NATO countries, and UN missions. They also had investments in real estate, ethical gem mining, and aeronautical companies, partnering with various airplane manufacturers. At one point, they had been the world's biggest steel recycling company with 130 divisions, and though they had shut down that business almost 25 years ago, there were rumors of them planning to relaunch it. Additionally, they were Earth's biggest angel investors in various tech companies, and news of their investments in the food and supply chain business had also surfaced. It seemed like the Volkners had their hands in almost every sector, reaching every corner of the earth.

Great. 

The hotel business was so minor for them that it had rare mentions in their business profiles. Seemed like their security business was also missing from the internet.

Also, there were literary no signs, no images, and no mentions of Royce, Maria, or Rhys anywhere. They were literary ghosts on the web. A guy named Marco Alvares seemed like the spokesperson of the Volkner family.

I refused to believe they did not use social media. I was sure they had them, but they also behaved like Ghosts there.

Interesting group of people. I liked them. They seemed fun. Now I understood why Julia was so protective of them.

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Days went by, and I continued to live a life filled with books and solitude.

Then, one day, my estranged father called me. His name on my phone screen filled me with a sense of dread and anger. I knew I had to maintain a civil relationship with him for now, at least until I completed my citizenship process. He was a powerful man in my home country, and if he wanted to, he could fuck up my plans to leave everything behind. He asked me how I was doing, as if he had never been absent from my life, or he never let any of his business partners use my body whenever their hearts wished. I was sure he was going to ask me for money, perhaps claiming that my mother was sick, that my elder siblings needed my help to settle down in Europe, or he needed the money for another lawsuit to fight against.

But what he asked me completely caught me off guard.

"How many countries have you applied for citizenship?"

What? What did he mean by- "how many countries"?

"You know I only applied for UK citizenship," I answered worriedly. 

"Oh, okay. For the last whole month, foreigners have been coming to inquire about you. They went to your grandparents' places as well. To your old school, to your medical college... everywhere."

My heart became heavy and almost sank in my stomach. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"How many people were there?"

"Many."

"Were they British?"

"No, it seemed like they were from every ethnicity."

I was confused, IRL do such a thing? If they want to inquire about me, wouldn't they use Bangladeshi police instead of sending their own people?

"Hello? Hello?" his filthy voice broke my trans state.

"When are you coming home?"

I laughed in disgust,

"Home? That's no home."

"Oh, come on, Kaya, move on." He spoke. His words ignited a fire of anger in my soul.

"I'll only move on when I'll burn every single one of you to ashes." I hissed like a snake. He started to laugh at my threat, so I cut off the phone. I meant it. First, I was going to kill the remaining rapists, and then I was going to burn my parents alive for all the sins they had performed on me.

A wave of panic rose from my spine and engulfed me when I feared my British citizenship application was in danger.

I couldn't go back to that shithole; I needed to stay away from it. Frantically, I called one of my colleagues, whose husband was a solicitor. He had previously advised me on my PR processes without any payment, even when I tried to force him to take. So, I called her and asked for her husband's advice.

He called me to their place for an emergency meet-up.

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I was there when the rain poured down, marking the end of the first week of May and heralding the approaching summer heatwave. I stood soaked and shivering on their doorstep on this rainy evening.

Danny greeted me with a warm hug and handed me a towel, calling for her husband to come downstairs to the living area. He hurried down from his study on the upper floor, with a smoking pipe in his mouth, and joined us in the room. I was drenched, but Danny vigorously rubbed me with the towel, trying to warm me up.

"Put some tea on the stove, Goddammit, Steven!"

He rushed to the stove to put a kettle on. He made 3 cups of tea and handed me one of the cups.

Danny and Steven were like family to me, they listened to everything very carefully.

"IRL won't do such a thing." He concluded. The evening downpour is now drizzling outside.

"Then what it is?" Danny asked him.

"Did you commit any crime in the last 3 years that is punishable by British law?"

I stared at Steven. Of course, I have committed many crimes in my life, the biggest crime a human can commit. I did them all. I failed to realize an evil smile slightly crooked my face.

Steven read my eyes. His own eyes widened,

"What did you do?" he demanded in a low-pitched voice.

"I did nothing," of course like a perfect criminal, I denied doing anything wrong. But I didn't do anything bad in the last 3 years. I have been a good girl.

"...not in the past 3 years. I don't remember doing anything wrong." I spoke the truth.

Silence fell in the room for a few minutes. Only the pitter-patter of raindrops falling on the glass windows was audible, with occasional thunder. It was getting dark outside.

"What did you do in Italy? Where did you stay? Whom did you meet?" Steven asked me.

Well, that would indeed be a cause for concern. What if there was a criminal in the hotel that even Volkners couldn't detect? I hesitated for a moment before deciding to speak up. I knew that if I didn't act quickly, I could be in serious trouble.

So, I began recounting everything - from my visit to Dante to Luca's care, and finally, meeting the Volkner Matriarch.

But it was the last part, the very last part, that made Steve jump on his couch.

"The Volkners, do you know who they are? They run the world. They are so powerful that I dont believe that they could be a real thing." He said.

Erm, what? Even Danny was confused as well.

"Why do you think they are fake?" I asked.

"I would have believed you if you'd said you met Jesus Christ at a strip club."

"WHAT!" I yelled at him.

"Steven Jeffrey O'Connell watch your fucking mouth!" Danny yelled at him as well. Steve shrugged at her in disbelief. Then he rubbed his forehead and explained,

"The Volkners, I don't believe they are real. They are just US Military Propaganda, like the Illuminati's. It's impossible for a family to have such powers, such wealth! It is humanly impossible!"

"So, you want to say that I met an imposter who was pretending to be Maria Volkner?" I was furious.

"Don't get mad at me, but my logical brain does not tell me it could be real. Think logically, Kaya. You're a smart lady, you went on a silly vacation on Italy, why the hell you would meet Maria Fucking Volkner out of nowhere? Without a reason?" He admitted. He was kind of right though. I mean...........what if it was all Julia's elaborate prank?

"Do you know anyone who could have met Maria Volkner?" I asked them.

"My uncle was a British Navy seal; he was a naval commodore as well. Maybe he had met her?" Danny was skeptical.

"Give him a call, ask him whether he saw Maria. "I suggested, Danny was hesitant at first but then she called her uncle.

I wrote down Maria's description on a piece of paper, folded it, and passed it to Steve. Meanwhile, Danny contacted her uncle, who initially denied any knowledge about the Volkners. However, after Danny's persuasive insistence, her uncle finally relented and decided to share the truth. He described Maria in detail. He also pleaded with us not to disclose the fact that he had shared such sensitive information over the phone, given the risks involved. The phone was on speaker mode, allowing both Steve and me to hear the description, which matched the one I had written on the paper.

Steve sank down to the floor, clearly stunned by this revelation, 

"I would have shat in my pants if I met Maria Volkner. She is a legend, a myth. I never believed all these were real... They call her Baba Yaga....." He mumbled as if he were dreaming. His eyes were hazy.

Thank Lord, I hadn't told them that Maria, a.k.a Baba Yaga wiped mayo off my face when we met. Steve would have had a heart attack.

"Is IRL after me when they figured out I could have met the Volkners?" I asked him.

"Maria needs to clap once to make IRL disappear from the face of the earth." He replied.

"How are you so sure?" I demanded.

"IRL will take the help of local police, they won't send foreigners to investigate foreign land about their immigrants, it is the stupidest thing any agency can do, and certainly would not go against Volkners' demands, Maria slurped tea with Queen Elizabeth whenever she was here in London. They were friends......" Steve demanded.

"........I think whoever is investigating you wanted to make sure you knew they were looking into your life. They weren't very discreet about their investigations," Danny concluded.

Steve and I exchanged glances, both realizing the truth in her words.

"But who could it be? IRL wouldn't go to such lengths, and no intelligence agency would do this either. Whoever they are, they wanted you to be aware of their presence... They wanted you to see them. Who could it possibly be?" Steve pondered, his mind racing.

A grim realization washed over me, causing my stomach to churn in fear and the hairs on my neck to stand on end.

It could only be the Volkners, or perhaps the person who had sent me flowers right under the Volkner family's noses... or something connected to this mysterious, powerful family.........