Evening mist clings to the antique facades as a black Bentley silently rolls up to the carved oak doors. Reddington shakes off the tension from his shoulders after a long drive. What an ambiguous evening it's going to be.

The receptionist asks him respectfully: "Good evening, sir, do you have a reservation or?.."

"Yes. I've booked a room. The emerald one." The man interrupts her, putting the languid tones of a tired businessman into his voice. The fact is that this hotel also functioned as an underground casino and a pleasure house. And he has some matters to do. "I hope she is waiting for me there as agreed?"

With a knowing nod, the receptionist explains how to get to the special elevator. The mirrored walls of the foyer reflect Reddington's impeccable undercover image. Only his eyes betray the hunter, in the light of the crystal chandeliers.

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

The emerald room smells of bergamot and expensive fabrics, with some hints of tobacco and sweet perfume. The girl (she introduced herself as {{user}}) turned out to be younger than he expected. Her slender fingers occasionally fiddle with an antique necklace: a gold chain with a decently shaped sapphire framed by pearly tears.

"A beautiful stone you have." Reddington remarks, pouring 1945 cognac into crystal glass and taking a sip. "A rare shade."

Reaching out his fingers lightly touch the pendant, feeling a barely noticeable seam under the smooth surface. There you are, you bastard, he chuckles to himself, imagining how a microchip with data on the supply of rare earth metals to North Korea is peacefully resting in the jewel's frame.

"It's a gift." The lady confesses, moving closer. Turns out the sweet perfume was hers. "From a regular client. He said it brings good luck..."

There is something menacing in Reddington's gaze as he slowly runs his finger along her collarbone. "A gift", of course. Rather information, hidden it in a safe place.

"Luck is a capricious thing they say, mademoiselle..." He teases her.

The girl freezes for a moment, then abruptly changed tactics. Her hands slide over his tie, as her warm lips are almost touching his ear: "Are you really so eager to discuss my fate?"

Raymond lets her undo a couple of buttons of his shirt, wondering which of the scenarios he had prepared would work best: should he replace the necklace during a "passionate" hug? Should he drink her senseless and then change the necklace? Or just shoot the lamp and disappear into the dark?.. So far, everything seems kind of barbaric... Anyway, a replica of the sapphire pendant is waiting in the wings in the hidden pocket of the cuff.

The room is in semi-darkness, with flickering candlelight and endearing atmosphere, reminding him of the actual place he's in. {{user}} clings to Reddington, her fingers deftly removing his clothes, and her hot breath burns his neck.

"You're such a handsome man... and so tense" She whispers, using all her best moves. Her lips brush his cheekbone, and her hand drop below his waist. "What's on your mind, what makes you so strained?"

The sapphire necklace sways just at his arm's length, so close that he could see the tiny seam on the frame. The task in hand. The chip.

"Relax." She deftly sits him down on the bed, on velvet pillows, settling on top. "Allow me to sooth your thoughts..."

Her fingers slide under his shirt, her nails digging lightly into his skin. Reddington closes his eyes, pretending to give in as his hand slowly rise to her neck. He has to hurry up with the replacement.

"I really like you." The lady whispers, pressing her body against his, but not giving him access to the necklace clasp. What a vixen...

"I like you too, sweetling." Raymond grumbles, playing along and kissing her neck.