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CHAPTER 48
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BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 49
They walked towards the museum, which was a few kilometers away. The whole structure itself, which used to belong to Fred Davison (now owned by Maximiliano Bastidas), used to be known as "The Castle", which—apart from being so—was nothing more than an exhibition of local, a place where works by renowned artists, but mostly from Great Britain, were supposed to be exhibited. However, Maximiliano didn't know important facts. One of the things he did not know, of which he was not informed before that visit, was that there were still objects inside that place, which was supposed to be empty. The businessman was notified of something very different, and Carla, being the owner of the percentage share of the foundation, was living in the structure. He was surprised that she was simply not notified at all, something that Maximiliano was just now corroborating: his wife never received the same document or folio as him and he was anxious to find out what was going on.As they walked, crossing gr
BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 50
Maximiliano was silent for a brief moment, analyzing the information."Why are you telling me all this?""Because it's most likely that all those things were taken from there.""Who would take that stuff out of there?" Brandon didn't answer immediately. "Who?"The roar of a vehicle interrupted the diatribe between them. They all looked towards the path; they were closer to the museum than Max remembered. They only had to go around the previous building, and they would enter the last stretch of road where no vehicles were supposed to enter. That morning, almost noon, they realized (at least the newcomers) that this was not the case: vehicles could enter the museum, and how way."Watch out!" Max's shout went off, cut through the roads, and filled the other two men with alarm.Guard, businessman, and journalist immediately moved aside, almost falling to the ground on both sides, when an old white van full of mud sped off through the sea of grass and mud, sparking everyone to flee at full
BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 51
"I deserve an explanation, where are you taking me?""Where do you think I'm taking you? Aren't you hurt? To the hospital," Max explained and took advantage of that answer to tell the driver where he needed to go.She snorted, but a headache shot through her skull. Max shook his head in exasperation. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Peter's number, who answered in less than three rings."I'm sick of this shit!" Max snapped into the phone, no longer caring if his driver heard everything. "There's too much misinformation here and Carla is bleeding! Yeah, Carla's hurt, yeah! Fuck! Some assholes stealing stuff from the museum that I didn't even know we had. They did everything like vile criminals and that Brandon..." He looked at Carla. "Investigate, do your own thing. That idiot told me what was going on already when we were about to find out."He heard Peter say that he feared the reporter tried to duck the issue by wanting to confess, but he knew about the robbery, so he was in
BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 52
Daniel Glint lived in an apartment the size of a large house. The place had a terrace adorned with flowers and even a concept space to the left, with lawn chairs set up there, giving the feeling of not being high up, but flush to the ground. Of course, he owned much more, but he adored that apartment. He always embraced the idea of being close to the original GLINT bar, his office, and his workplace. Owning vehicles of various sizes and colors, and a staff to work around the clock, people who could bring him to and from wherever he wanted, was not important to him as long as he could walk to the nightclub, as long as he could enjoy the scenery of the city he loved.Daniel was the epitome of simplicity and opulence, of hard work and relentless leisure, of having a pleasant yet pedantic attitude, a compendium of everything, he was a very curious character. Daniel laughed out loud, made jokes, cracked the best jokes, and had outlandish and crazy ideas for almost every aspect of his life,
BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 53
Maximiliano left the restaurant escorted by a couple of his bodyguards. The exit was made from the back.The protocol changed, since inside that place, which he knew very well, casually met an old friend. He had dinner with her and shared a couple of drinks but could not shake off the uneasiness of the argument with his wife.Max was not a guy who liked to argue, and it seemed strange that he did it constantly with her, who, it seemed, didn't much like conflict either. But together they were explosive, seeming not to put up with each other most of the time. Getting married for a commitment very different from love was the worst decision made. "Imposition," he corrected himself when he thought about it. And the worst was knowing that they liked each other. He couldn't obviate or forget all the kisses (for him, too few), that touch of her hands on his body, her gasping words, her resigned face understanding that they might as well move on, but her being truly mature in stopping, knowing
BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 54
Carla left the underwear tucked between Max's pants on the floor. She grunted, turned around, and went back the way she had come, walking hurriedly towards the elevator area, passing in front of the bellboy, who raised his eyebrows when he noticed the tenant's enervation.Maximiliano set about picking up the rest of the things, still laughing his head off, trying to calm down and moving on. When he was about to cross to the right, he saw B.J., who was getting up from one of the gym benches."Sir, good evening again, sorry for the interruption."Maximiliano wondered how long the bodyguard had been there. Had he heard everything? Had he been as amused as was by the silly discussion?"What is that?" Max asked when he saw a box in the bodyguard's hands, wrapped in brown paper with gold details.The bodyguard cleared his throat before explaining."This package has arrived from Spain, sir. We've scanned it and discovered that it's a couple of bottles.""Liquor? Okay, so what's the big deal
BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 55
Carla looked curiously at the contents of the box: a bottle of darkened glass, red wine, presented with the name of a well-known company in the international wine industry. The logo of the liquor itself on one side, and the other, the shield that appeared on the box.He proceeded to uncork one of the bottles with the corkscrew, using great skill, without causing havoc or spillage. He took the two glasses, first one, then the other, and poured the liquid—just a little—into one glass.He swirled, sniffed, and drank. Satisfied with the spicy taste of the wine, he finished filling that same glass and passed it to his wife."Try this one.""Are you serious? You weren't arguing with me because I have to take antibiotics and that I can't drink...?""Taste."Carla was about to refute him, drinking wine when they had to talk, but she was tired of arguing that night, so she agreed to take a sip of the wine her husband had just offered her.The incredible taste not only touched her tongue but al
BOUND TO THE ENEMY CHAPTER 56
"I witnessed a rape."Total silence."Eh?" Maximiliano's voice came out after a couple of seconds of hearing that confession.Carla inhaled air and exhaled, with her eyes on him, however, she didn't see him, her mind was no longer there, she was transported to that night in the gym, to that place she did not forget, the same place she visited from time to time, although not so much since the whole thing with her father started."Your friend Peter is a good researcher; I like swimming and I do it well. I learned from a very young age, my mother taught me. I learned in this city, and when I grew up, I began to enroll in gyms that had swimming pools so as not to lose the habit or practice. I stopped attending my usual gym shortly after what happened at the consortium. Remember, I traveled to the mountains to visit my aunt taking advantage of those days off at the company because I had time without seeing her, but as soon as I returned to The City, a few days later, more or less, the trut
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