Mars realized where he'd tripped up and quickly set things straight. "Listen up, kiddo. Here's the main thing: if her name is Milka, you call her godmother. Everybody else, you call 'Auntie.' Got it?"

Henry just sighed to himself. Honestly, life seemed way tougher these days. He missed being a little baby-back when he didn't have to do anything but be cute, always getting picked up, cuddled, fed when he was hungry, and soothed if he fussed. Those were the days.

At 6:10 p.m., Milka came out of the office building.

She was surrounded by a few coworkers, including Mr. Grant, who happened to be Mars's least favorite manager. "Milka," Grant called out, "I've noticed you driving to work lately. Did you get a new car?"

He'd seen the car in the lot and tried to do a little digging. He was sure, with the make, model, and the license plate number, he'd be able to find out who it belonged to. But nothing turned up. Not a single lead. That just made Mr. Grant even more convinced: if the car's details were locked down that tight, then the owner had to be someone with serious pull probably military.

Whenever Mr. Grant looked at Milka, his expression was nothing but flattery. Milka had, in fact, been using Mars's car to get to work lately.

Mars's car wasn't some over-the-top sports car, but it was still a luxury sedan, easily worth a small fortune. And the license plate? The kind you couldn't buy even if you had the money-one of those coveted, exclusive numbers.

It got people talking. "Milka, that car of yours must've cost a fortune! Where'd you even get a plate like that? Did you win the lottery or something?"

laugh, never bothering to

was, she'd moved into the military compound. Taxis couldn't even get in-if the driver didn't have a pass, they were stopped at the

she couldn't keep asking his aide to chauffeur her

in the compound system, so she could come and go without a hitch. She'd just borrowed

expected her coworkers to

and teased, "Mr. Grant, for someone as shrewd as you, your

She could tell who was genuinely friendly and who was just trying to cozy

to size up their coworkers. Mr. Grant had poked around about her family and the compound before, even hinting

dodge those conversations. She knew exactly what

on. I'd never try to

letting the moment slide. Some things didn't need to be spelled out. They were coworkers, after all—a vague answer was

then, Mars showed up, carrying

late today," Mars called as he

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