The days passed slowly for Maximiliano and extremely slowly for Carla.Max tried to get his wife to leave the room. He would involve her in topics of interest concerning her late father's company, showing her plans and important data, as well as communicating his ideas about the new season for the consortium based on the Protocol area. The only thing the CEO got out of her was that she complained about being in charge of the department. Carla threatened to call Bobby Clarence to tell him the truth about what was going on.Very upset at being subjected to such blackmail, Max reminded her that the management position she would not hold, that it was just a well-articulated lie for the press. Carla then shared with him data that was mentioned in group chats created by coworkers and mentioned that they congratulated her on the new job.The CEO was aware of the existence of those chat groups but didn't tell her. What she was able to do was to come up with a plan for herself to announce to e
Max smiled, scrubbing his eyelids again, and then said goodbye, hanging up the call.He looked at the time on his wristwatch: 20:00 hours. He'd agreed to call George and Lenis, his mother and Peter as well, to congratulate them, maybe make a video call with them, but he'd still let them enjoy themselves; it was early there, and besides, he didn't feel like feeling sorry for himself.He downed the contents of the glass in one gulp and set it down on the wall ledge that enclosed the air-conditioned place, which, besides being gigantic and very modern, full of top quality furnishings and current designs all gray, light blue, black, and white, was surrounded by walls half wall, half glass, with giant square panels that gave the sensation of being outdoors, counting the roof of pergola, iron and glass that allowed to see the sun in the middle of the day, the falling snow, the rain and the stars, being hail and humidity proof.The elevator came to a full stop and opened its doors. Maximili
In a London restaurant not far from the hotel, a thin guy, about 35 years old, with many lines, a wild look, and gray in his abundant hair, although well cut, was sharing a very colorful and hot drink with a woman who seemed to be quite young, much younger than him, who wore black hair with red and purple locks.The music was raucous, a mixture of rock and electronic, and Christmas decorations were placed everywhere. Taking advantage of the warmth of the place, wearing a red and green checkered shirt, beige dress pants, and earth-colored shoes, good brand, very expensive, the party man, who was waiting (like everyone else) for the end of the year, noticed how his cell phone turned on its screen and vibrated on the table.He picked it up and read the text carefully. The information was a bit long, but a good summary of what he asked his friend, the waiter, to send him.He apologized to the colorful-haired girl by leaving a kiss on her cheek and got up, heading for a quieter place where
"Will you kiss me whenever you want?" asked a heated Carla touching her lips, lips that still hurt from Maximiliano's fierce outburst."Couples kiss, Carla, do you want me to remind you that I'm your husband?"Paralyzed for two seconds, she burst out laughing."This is crazy." She was still laughing, more and more amazed at how things were going, placing her gaze on no specific place, touching her face, shaking her head."In a few hours, this year will be over. Are we going to celebrate by arguing?""That's not my fault," she said."All right, it's all mine." He raised his palms in surrender. "Still, it's not worth it to be like this all the time. It's tiring and annoying. Besides," he put his hands in his pockets and smiled, "I can think of more ways to celebrate this important date."Carla raised her eyebrows, again stunned by what she had just heard."I remind you that this is not a day to celebrate, Maximiliano.""I know," he said softly and sincerely. He straightened up, erasing
Max opened his eyes, finding it hard to focus.His phone was vibrating, placed on a nightstand, and the buzzing annoyed him.He considered that he'd had too much to drink last night, but at the same time, he knew he could have had a lot more. If the circumstances had been otherwise, he wouldn't be alone in that bed.He reached for his cell phone and spotted the date and time: January 1, 11:15 a.m. His eyes fell on the date and time. Then, his gaze was fixed on the center of the screen, several notifications were concentrated there.Max opened the notification box; Peter wrote: "We must talk. Wake up!" He didn't open the message; he could skim-read it, and that was just one of the many texts sent by him; he discarded the rest.B.J. warned in another box, "Sir, we're listening to what you tell us." It was that caught his attention. Max frowned and rubbed his hand over his face, waking up.Also, he found a message from Carla and that was the one he preferred to open. It had a link attach
"Sir?" B.J. got up from his seat when he saw his boss coming out of the main bedroom, the same one where Carla Davison de Bastidas was staying. "B.J., Carla asked to do this alone. She doesn't want anyone to interrupt her, and I couldn't convince her otherwise. I'll take care of this; maybe you can keep watch downstairs." "Sir, a group of reporters has landed at the entrance of the hotel." "Fuck." He sighed and rubbed her eyelids with renewed exhaustion. "What did you have in mind?" "To leave in the wee hours. We've already coordinated with hotel security to collaborate and guard all the exits, including the emergency exit, access to the kitchen, laundry, and fire escape." "All right, good job. Thank you for keeping me informed. Write to me. This will be quick, but then..." Max grimaced with resignation and regret. The guard nodded, understanding very well what his boss was talking about. "Don't worry, sir, I manage it." Max nodded and turned to look at the suite door. He want
The finished dial tone almost pierced Daniel's eardrums, who, amid his rage, perceived the sound as if it were emitted at a very high volume. He held back, held back as long as he could, staring at the cell phone, imagining exploding it with a squeeze of his hand. The screen was returning to normal, showing her cousin's number with the notification the chat app usually leaves and its call section. Exhaling for the third time, wrinkling his face from his stomach ache, serious, he placed the cell phone on the low table delicately, as if he didn't want the simple touch to make the slightest noise. He looked straight ahead. A series of images began to project around him, starting from the front, like a slideshow turned video, like an infinite reel of all the things that were going to happen to him the moment Maximilian and his people realized that the journalist was related to him. He knew Peter Embert would dig deep; he would start to break it down; distrust of everyone was ingrained
"Daniel, I appreciate you calling to tell me about all this. I know it must be upsetting for you to have to accuse your flesh and blood, but I have to ask you a question." "Of course you do, I'll answer whatever you want." "Is there money involved? Do you think your cousin was paid to publish? I mean, the press in The City... They're the ones who have been following our wedding from the beginning. The truth is that I didn't expect them to come to this country and be capable of something like this." "It's most likely affirmative, my friend, that is also possible. There is likely money involved, yes." Max scrubbed his eyelids, feeling sorry that someone in the Glint family wanted to focus on always being the black sheep. "I'm sorry he's like that, Daniel, and I appreciate you bringing it to my attention." "Imagine what I'm feeling right now, Max. I'm about to kill him." Maximiliano smiled. Daniel was always exaggerating in the way he spoke and his opinions about everything. "Wel