American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 178 Everyone is under pressure
Beta stood beside the large desk, her fingertips lightly touching the delicate straps of her sandals.

The crystal-studded shoes swayed slightly with his movements. His palms faced upwards, supporting the heels, the cool crystals against his skin, his gaze lingering on Katalia's bare toes.

Her toes were painted with deep red nail polish, a color reminiscent of ripe cherries.

Her toes were moving restlessly, sometimes curling, sometimes stretching. The sunlight rimmed her toes, illuminating the pale blue veins on the instep and the slightly protruding ankle bones.

“No one has ever sat in this seat before.” Beta’s voice was laced with amusement as his gaze moved from her toes to her eyes, his thumb tracing the crystals embedded in her heel.

Katalia tilted her head, a curl falling to her cheek. Her gaze swept across the entire office: heavy oak bookshelves, leather sofas, nautical charts on the wall, and a desk large enough for two people to lie down on.

"It's so hard, not comfortable at all," she commented. Her bare feet lightly brushed against the smooth tabletop, feeling the wood grain beneath her soles.

She sighed: "The first thing I have to think about every day when I wake up is how to steer this big ship of Antonio steadily without making the slightest mistake."

As she spoke, her feet stopped moving, and her toes curled up again. Sunlight shone on the slightly tense instep, outlining the contours of her bones.

Beta's gaze returned to her feet, watching her heels press against the table and her toes, painted with deep red nail polish, tremble slightly.

Beta sat sideways on the edge of the table, the fabric of his suit trousers rubbing against the smooth wooden surface. His palms were warm and dry, encircling Katalia's ankles, whose bones were delicate yet strong, and whose fine tendons could be felt sliding beneath the skin.

He placed her legs on his thighs, revealing her shapely calves.

Beta's fingertips began massaging the back of her calves, where the muscles were clearly defined by exercise. As he applied pressure, his fingertips could clearly feel the texture of the muscles, their resilience as they slightly deformed and bounced back under pressure, like kneading a stress-relieving toy.

“You always understood me.” Beta’s voice was much lower as he found the tightest spot on her leg muscles with his thumb and slowly pressed in circles. Under his massage, the skin on Katalia’s calves gradually turned a pale pink, and the muscles slowly relaxed.

Katalia's toes curled quietly in his palm. Beta could clearly feel the arch of her foot and the protrusion of her joints as her toes curled slightly.

Her heels were pressed against the fabric of his suit, and a slight warmth from her body wafted through the fabric.

Beta's fingertips slowly traced the curve of her calf, his fingertips caressing the skin. In the sunlight, the fine downy hairs could be seen trembling gently with his movements.

“Ashley understands my situation,” he said in a low voice, “but she always shows it through her actions.”

My fingertip rested on a faint scar on her calf, a mark left from her childhood: "She silently took care of everything and shared my burdens. She never complained, yet she did everything impeccably."

Katalia's fingers twirled a strand of curl, the hair twisting and unwinding between her fingers. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in her hair, casting dappled patterns of light on the bridge of her nose. "And what about me? Am I useless?" she asked.

Beta gently shook his head.

His palm enveloped her ankle, his thumb pressing on the most prominent part of her ankle bone, where he could feel the subtle pulse throbbing beneath her skin.

"Seeing you every day." His thumb began to move slowly, massaging along the tendon lines on the back of her foot: "Being able to laugh and play with you like when we were kids is the best way for me to relax."

His fingertips traced the back of her slightly arched foot, where pale blue veins were faintly visible beneath the thin skin.

“You are just as important as Ashley.” His voice softened. “Just in a different way.”

The temperature from his palm was just right, neither too hot nor too cold, just like the emotion he expressed in his words—any more would be excessive, and any less would be insufficient.

Three restrained knocks came from outside the door.

Beta lifted Katalia's ankle, his palm enveloping her slender bones. He picked up the sandal with one hand, carefully slipping her foot into it, the strap wrapping around her ankle, his fingertips brushing against the delicate skin of her heel.

Beta picked up the other sandal.

He cradled her slightly cool heel in his palm, meticulously adjusting each shoelace to its perfect position. The shoelaces wrapped around her ankle, the crystal buckles clicking crisply between his fingers.

He gently placed her feet on the carpet.

"Come in."

The subordinate pushed open the door and entered, respectfully handing Beta a document: "This is information just sent by Mr. Sterling. Our people have also verified the information, and it is basically consistent with what the Frank family said."

Beta glanced at the document briefly before handing it back to his subordinate: "Notify Sterling that there's a new order. Have Fulton and Fordy stand by in the shadows, and McCree will drive me."

The subordinate nodded crisply: "Understood."

Beta turned to Katalia: "You can go wherever you want, but you must bring enough people with you."

Katalia rose from her chair and walked over to Beta. She carefully straightened his tie and gently patted his shoulder: "Don't worry, I won't cause you any trouble."
-
Wearing sunglasses, McCree opened the car door for Beta.

Because the four of them are wanted by the FBI, many of their original plans and actions have to be interrupted, but it is impossible for them to turn over a new leaf and become obedient office workers.

So, on Blue's advice, they chose to stay in New York and play for Beta.

Beta used his family connections to provide them with protection, and in return, they used Beta's funds to work for Beta.

A reasonable employment relationship where both parties get what they need.

Beta got into the car, McCree drove, and one of Antonio's security guards sat in the passenger seat.

"Where to?" McCree's gaze briefly met Beta's in the rearview mirror.

“Crown Hotel.” Beta’s answer was concise and clear. He adjusted his posture and looked out the window at the flowing street scene.

McCree nodded, and the engine hummed softly. The car smoothly merged into the traffic on Fifth Avenue, the setting sun casting golden reflections on the glass facades of the skyscrapers.

After about two blocks, McCree broke the silence again: "The mute has come to New York."

Beta looked at McCree: "What are your plans, Dumb Guy?"

McCree glanced at Beta in the rearview mirror: "They said they came here for vacation."

He paused briefly: "I want to rest for a while."

Beta said, "Since she's free now, why doesn't she come and do some work for me?"

McCree tapped his fingertips lightly on the steering wheel twice, his gaze sweeping across the rearview mirror behind his sunglasses: "I'll tell her."

(End of this chapter)