02-02-2026, 05:19 PM
Zizi’s little gathering didn’t turn out to be terrible, though it had been filled mostly with old men. But much like her brother, Jia Xin was effortlessly adaptable, and whatever she might have truly thought of the company she was all grace and laughter for the duration. The Covenant and its clubs did not immediately interest her – the Kaos already ran numerous entertainment venues across East Asia, and Moscow was a cold and grim city. Aside from the business she was decidedly coy about, she had little intention of staying longer than necessary. At least until Zixin let slip a particular name, and Jia Xin’s brow arched coolly. A look between siblings if ever there was one. Her opinion changed after that, and she made her intention clear to him immediately. If Ozy was involved, Jia Xin wanted one of the clubs for her own. Zixin rarely denied her anything; he never had. The moment his amusement at her demands was both magnanimous and indulgent, her tact changed to suit. She was a sly creature, and she realised immediately that it was not him she must convince, but this Covenant itself.
It wasn’t hard, of course. A little healthy wagering and boasting: that a club under the Kao’s design and purview would be the most successful of the lot. Not that Jia Xin actually intended to do anything so base as run it herself. Before the conversation had even gotten cold her diamond tipped nails had tapped a message to Connie on her wallet. He’d not refuse. And by the time she called him directly, in the early hours after the party had finally wound down, she knew he’d be on the first flight to Moscow. Jia Xin’s own plans adjusted seamlessly. Perhaps the city would be more tolerable with Constantine’s company.
The next day she met the security arranged through Pervaya Liniya: a bespectacled British man Jia Xin did little more than glance at for now. He was formal, polite, and he fit into her schedule without fuss. She was not interested in making conversation.
After some quick deliberation over a lavish breakfast in her suite, she called home and asked Liyana to arrange a realtor to shortlist suitable properties. Her cousin exclaimed aghast down the phone, but Jia Xin only laughed and told her Moscow was not so bad as all that. Zixin might be content to slum it in a hotel, but Jia Xin was not so easily satisfied. Not that it wasn’t as beautiful as the man who owned it, but Zizi ought to be sending the message that he intended to stay – and that included a suitably impressive home for a Kao. Fortunately he had a dutiful sister to take care of such things. Afterwards she called her Yeye to ask his forgiveness – always an easier conversation than begging for permission. By the time Connie arrived, Jia Xin’s visit here would no longer be secret: the socials would be abuzz with rumour and speculation once they were within one another’s orbit. Better to tell her grandfather now that she intended to stay.
To fill her time she explored the city a little that day, and found the experience entirely novel. No one recognised her, which was in equal measures refreshing and disconcerting. Though she had to share the space with other tourists, something she decided she was less enamoured of. Navigating transport was unfamiliar too, but she found a use for Edwin Dean then, and to his credit he did not complain. Later, after a dinner dined alone in Radiance’s exquisite restaurant, Jia Xin dressed and readied herself for the business which had brought her to Moscow in the first place. A quiet thrill hummed in her stomach, a smile on the edge of her lips.
The sun set early this time of year, and the industrial district was not busy – or the part she had the car directed to, anyway. Jia Xin’s clothes were dark and serviceable, and she wore no jewellery or adornment, but somehow she still looked rich. She let Edwin open the car door, but did not pause to wait for him when she stepped out into the cold. A man stood by a warehouse door, tall, long hair smoothed back from his temples. He was not watching for her arrival; rather, he seemed to be thinking quietly, and yet his eyes found her anyway, swiped quickly to Edwin Dean, and then returned to her.
“Ms Kao?” he said. His voice was smooth, accented.
It wasn’t hard, of course. A little healthy wagering and boasting: that a club under the Kao’s design and purview would be the most successful of the lot. Not that Jia Xin actually intended to do anything so base as run it herself. Before the conversation had even gotten cold her diamond tipped nails had tapped a message to Connie on her wallet. He’d not refuse. And by the time she called him directly, in the early hours after the party had finally wound down, she knew he’d be on the first flight to Moscow. Jia Xin’s own plans adjusted seamlessly. Perhaps the city would be more tolerable with Constantine’s company.
The next day she met the security arranged through Pervaya Liniya: a bespectacled British man Jia Xin did little more than glance at for now. He was formal, polite, and he fit into her schedule without fuss. She was not interested in making conversation.
After some quick deliberation over a lavish breakfast in her suite, she called home and asked Liyana to arrange a realtor to shortlist suitable properties. Her cousin exclaimed aghast down the phone, but Jia Xin only laughed and told her Moscow was not so bad as all that. Zixin might be content to slum it in a hotel, but Jia Xin was not so easily satisfied. Not that it wasn’t as beautiful as the man who owned it, but Zizi ought to be sending the message that he intended to stay – and that included a suitably impressive home for a Kao. Fortunately he had a dutiful sister to take care of such things. Afterwards she called her Yeye to ask his forgiveness – always an easier conversation than begging for permission. By the time Connie arrived, Jia Xin’s visit here would no longer be secret: the socials would be abuzz with rumour and speculation once they were within one another’s orbit. Better to tell her grandfather now that she intended to stay.
To fill her time she explored the city a little that day, and found the experience entirely novel. No one recognised her, which was in equal measures refreshing and disconcerting. Though she had to share the space with other tourists, something she decided she was less enamoured of. Navigating transport was unfamiliar too, but she found a use for Edwin Dean then, and to his credit he did not complain. Later, after a dinner dined alone in Radiance’s exquisite restaurant, Jia Xin dressed and readied herself for the business which had brought her to Moscow in the first place. A quiet thrill hummed in her stomach, a smile on the edge of her lips.
The sun set early this time of year, and the industrial district was not busy – or the part she had the car directed to, anyway. Jia Xin’s clothes were dark and serviceable, and she wore no jewellery or adornment, but somehow she still looked rich. She let Edwin open the car door, but did not pause to wait for him when she stepped out into the cold. A man stood by a warehouse door, tall, long hair smoothed back from his temples. He was not watching for her arrival; rather, he seemed to be thinking quietly, and yet his eyes found her anyway, swiped quickly to Edwin Dean, and then returned to her.
“Ms Kao?” he said. His voice was smooth, accented.