Bab 19: Chapter 19. Private Jet

Timothy sent a text to Medusa at 10 a.m., asking if he and the others could enter her suite room to bring the few boxes of pictures, books, and other items belonging to Aleysia and her family. Timothy had already arranged for people to clean the items, so they would be presented to Medusa in a pristine state.

"You can come in and put the boxes on the sofa. I'm still in the bathroom," Medusa replied via text.

After placing all the boxes inside the suite room and setting them in front of the sofa, Timothy let the other people leave, and he remained, waiting for Medusa's instructions and standing by.

The hotel was part of a chain owned by one of the Johnson family's business partners, Madelyn Castillo-MacKenzie. They knew that if the Johnsons were in the hotel with the mysterious woman who held power over their conglomerate, they were not to be disturbed.

Many of the Johnson conglomerate's enemies and business rivals had tried to uncover the identity of the woman behind the family's strength and success, but to no avail. Whoever attempted to find out was never heard from again.

The Johnson conglomerate had been thriving since the 1700s, with operations spanning Europe, Africa, and the United States. Some business magnates, feeling jealous of the success of a thriving black-owned legitimate business, had tried to undermine the Johnsons, but they knew very little about the woman who had been protected by the family for centuries.

People tried to get the woman's family but always failed to do so. Because none of them are coming back after uncovering the truth behind the woman.

"Timo! Don't forget my wine!" Medusa shouted from the bathroom. "And you can leave the room too."

"Already served, madam!" Timothy replied, raising his voice slightly before leaving the room.

Emerging from the bathroom, Medusa found the boxes in the guest room. She turned on the television to watch the news while eyeing the three bottles of 2019 Concannon Clone 7 Cabernet Sauvignon, a wine she had never tried before.

She opened the wine with ease and sat on the sofa, wearing only a robe and allowing the snakes on her head to hiss freely. Medusa swirled the deep ruby liquid in her glass, the dancing light catching the wine's viscous nature as she brought it to her nose. The captivating aromas of dark, ripe cherries immediately enveloped her senses, evoking memories of cherries freshly plucked from the tree.

As she took a sip, the wine caressed her palate with a silky, velvety texture, the flavors unfolding in layers. The dark cherry notes took center stage, bursting with juicy, sun-ripened intensity, perfectly balanced by the wine's firm, gripping tannins.

"Oh, I don't know why all those gods and goddesses stuck with one kind of wine," Medusa mused, inhaling the wine and glancing at the boxes.

She picked up one of the photographs, showing Aleysia as a toddler with a big, beaming smile and holding a small dog. Medusa could see many pictures of Aleysia and her loving parents, and she noticed Aleysia's eyes, which were like peering into the depths of the ocean itself.

They sparkled with an enchanting oceanic azure, the vibrant blue hues swirling and shifting like the ebb and flow of the tides. Flecks of turquoise and indigo danced within the irises, creating a mesmerizing and almost otherworldly quality. The blue was so pure and clear, it seemed to reflect the very essence of the sea—tranquil and serene on the surface, yet hinting at the vast, mysterious depths that lay beneath.

"She has a beautiful pair of eyes," Medusa said, smiling as she gazed at the pictures.

She paused on a photograph that seemed to be the last one before Aleysia went blind due to a fever. In the image, Aleysia was with the Owens siblings, who were already losing their teenage features. But Aleysia remained as beautiful as she was now.

"I should have tortured them first," Medusa sighed, pouring herself another glass of wine.

Her phone chimed, and she had two messages—one from Aleysia and one from Timothy. "I think I'll go to San Francisco this week. Can we meet?" She read Aleysia's message first.

"Oh," Medusa said, deciding to call Aleysia in response.

"Hi, I thought you were busy," Aleysia answered the phone quickly, already knowing who was calling her.

"I read your message and just wanted to hear your voice," Medusa replied.

Aleysia chuckled, "Can we meet in San Francisco? Even if it's just for a day? I know you're busy."

"Yes, we can, Aleysia. When are you going to go to San Francisco?" Medusa asked, gently cutting off Aleysia's words.

"I don't know; I'll ask Zoey about it." Medusa recognized the name, and she was happy that Zoey was working quickly and true to her word.

"Tell me when, and I'll send my private jet for you. Just prepare your passport," Medusa said.

"Wait, Zoey will send me tickets to go to San Francisco," Aleysia said, sounding nervous.

"No need; just get on my private jet. I'll tell Timo to arrange it. Just tell him when you're going to San Francisco. You're not going alone, are you?" Medusa didn't want Aleysia to use a commercial plane.

"Is it okay? I won't be bothering you?" Aleysia asked softly.

"Nonsense, I have plenty of private jets. Who's going to use them?" Medusa said nonchalantly, talking as if everyone on earth had a private jet.

"But it's a private jet..." Aleysia couldn't believe it.

"And it's mine. Just use it. I didn't offer you; I'm telling you to do it," Medusa said.

"Okay," Aleysia relented and smiled. "Have you had breakfast or lunch? It's almost noon."

"I'll have my lunch after this. I'm currently reviewing some old documents," Medusa said, staring at the pictures of young Aleysia.

"Okay, I'll go tell Aunt Yolanda after this. And I'll tell Zoey," Aleysia said.

Not long after they hung up the phone, Medusa quickly called Timothy, "Timo! Go call Zoey and tell her to say yes to everything Aleysia said, but never let Zoey tell her about me! Ariadne!"

"Oh, o-okay. But, what about?" Timothy was confused.

"Zoey told Aleysia to go to San Francisco to deal with the house and everything, and she wanted to give her a plane ticket. And I told her to just use my jet."

"Oh, I got it," Timothy understood the bigger picture.

"Send her the Bombardier," Medusa said, and quickly hung up the phone.

Timothy stared at Bernard. "You're right, this time, I think Madam will have a partner."

"At least she'll no longer be alone," Bernard said, smiling.