(A day before the will reading).
Maximiliano Bastidas' body had not only been training for hours. The muscular and athletic body of the CEO of one of the largest, most controversial, and important corporations in the city had been working out for years.
And did the results pay off?
He worked out every morning if business allowed. It is the end of December, a week before Christmas, it was one of those days where his office took a back seat with the sole intention of exercising.
He needed it, he needed to drain urgently, and he needed exercise as much as he needed water or oxygen. Maximiliano longed to be able to free himself from the strong tensions generated in a year full of challenges. The past few months had been complicated, every single one, without exception.
The grass in his huge courtyard, almost flooded by the rain, made his steps more difficult to execute and with the spacious ceramic floors he encountered from time to time, he had to be careful not to fall.
"Sir! Sir!"
He stopped his trot immediately and turned around. His breathing was labored and had to squint his eyes to get a better look.
"Gladis?!" he asked, his voice raised to be heard above the waterfall. "What are you doing out here, Mrs. Gladis, for heaven's sake, you might get sick."
"No, young man, it's not a problem for me," the housekeeper answered, a woman in her sixties, with short, close-cropped hair full of gray, covered, at that moment, by a thick yellow raincoat. "You have an urgent call from Miss Evans, I didn't want to wait for you to come in to notify you."
He sighed, exhaling almost an entire cloud of mist. For Maximiliano, peace was not lasting, he thought so. It was his secretary who reminded him of that phone call.
"All right, thank you very much, but let's go in now. Don't go out like that again, Mrs. Gladis, you might get sick."
"Don't worry about me, sir." She thought about telling him that he could get sick too, but she understood many years ago that her boss was risky in many aspects of his life. "You can answer in your office, sir, I forwarded the call there," she said, as they walked into the house.
The man nodded and walked with his housekeeper to the back door of the house. A huge home, with impressive and majestic architecture, which he shared only with employees: his gardener, Mrs. Gladis, a cook, and some maids, all of them residing in a house next to the parking lot. The rest of the staff that lived in the house worked under a schedule and shift schedule.
Max and Gladis finally stepped through the thick wooden door, and the temperature provided by the house's heater hit them. The contrast with the weather outside was evident through the fogged glass of the windows and in every pore of their bodies.
After she asked permission to leave, Maximiliano, energetic, still standing on the pristine marble floor, shook his muddy shoes, wet and with some leaves stuck to them, on a carpet that welcomed whoever entered from there.
He pulled down the hood of his waterproof jacket and also the hood of his sweater, uncovering his auburn hair, and stirring it with his fingers to remove any residue the dew had left behind.
He walked through the great hall of his mansion, squeaking his sneakers on the beautiful material of the floor. There was no furniture in the place. With a living room to the east, the grand staircase to the west, and a doorway leading to a wide hallway that would lead to his office, he continued walking until crossed the threshold. Tossed the thick black wool gloves on the desk, seconds after entering and closing the door behind him. He picked up the speaker of the cordless phone, activating the speakerphone before placing it on top of the pack.
"Don't give me bad news, Lenis, please," he teased his secretary.
"And that's the way my esteemed boss says good morning to me," Lenis Evans's soft voice said from the other end of the line.
Max slumped back in his large dark brown leather chair before speaking.
"I imagine you called me on my cell phone?"
"That is correct."
"And when I didn't answer, you called here. You only do that in an emergency. Also, it's still early. What happened now?"
"Excuse me for calling you at home and this hour, but this can't wait."
Maximiliano went into tension when he heard those words. Things in his life and the lives of everyone around him had already calmed down a bit. The last thing he wanted was to add a new problem to the already calm waters.
"Tell me, what is it about?" he asked, voice tight.
"A communiqué has arrived via email informing us of the unfortunate death of businessman Fred Davison. Of course, I assumed you would want to be aware of this news as soon as possible."
The man was speechless for a couple of seconds.
"Max?"
"Fred Davison is dead?" he whispered almost to himself intending to be able to believe it.
"I have already arranged a floral arrangement with an agency in his country that I took from a list of contacts that the Protocol department handles, but I need your authorization to send them and... do you wish to place a special note?"
Lenis' boss wrinkled his eyebrows at the last question.
«A farewell message? Condolences? For that guy? What could I possibly say in that note?»
"No notes. Just send the flowers or whatever you have prepared. Nothing ostentatious, please. And find out when the funeral is."
"Ok. Are you planning to travel to England? I can schedule your ticket, just give me the green light."
Max thought for a moment about his answer.
"I must talk to your husband about this first," he almost whispered the words, thanks to the speed of his thoughts. "Is he in the firm?"
"Yes. I've sent you the email that came to us with the notice of Mr. Davison's passing, so you can see for yourself."
"Perfect, I'll check it out, thank you."
"Ah... Speaking of the Protocol department." Max paid special attention. "Their director, Bobby Clarence, has sent a request for a replacement for one of his assistants."
Max was surprised to hear that.
"The head of the protocol department called the President's office for that? It has to be something important. Who does he want to replace and why?" Lenis was silent. "Lenis?"
"Mr. Clarence wants to replace Carla Davis," the secretary said in a measured tone of voice.
Maximiliano straightened up in his seat after that second piece of information. The morning came with more surprises.
"Will you put me in context, please?" he asked with absolute seriousness.
"Miss Davis has a health problem. A bit particular problem." He furrowed deeply. "Mr. Clarence has sent us, in addition, the medical permission she gave him."
"What's wrong with her?"
Lenis took a short pause before answering.
"Her medical note was signed by a mental health specialist..."
"What does the doctor's note stipulate, Lenis?" he interrupted.
She cleared her throat softly.
"Post-traumatic stress."
Max clenched his jaw. He inhaled and exhaled through his nose, leaning his back against the chair.
"For Clarence," she continued," it was important to announce it to the Presidency. He talked about the dates we are going through and that the Protocol department is in charge of organizing the Christmas party. To be without one of his four assistants is a delicate matter. According to him, he needs a replacement immediately."
Maximiliano took the time to think about all the information.
"Post-traumatic stress," he whispered, "It's normal for her to experience something like this, or am I wrong? Although after everything that has happened, it's the first time I've heard of her requesting a leave of absence for health reasons."
"Yes, it's something that could happen to her, but you can't blame yourself for that. All the things that happened in the company this year were too stressful for any of us. May I have a little more say about that? A little... more personal?"
"Please."
"This is a medical misconduct like any other and what I think is that Mr. Clarence wants to magnify the facts behind such a medical report. I'm sure he wants us to see what's going on with her..."
"With bad intentions?"
"You said so."
"But that's what you mean, isn't it?" Max didn't like detours.
And she knew it, so she sighed, resigned.
Yes, that's right. That's what I mean."
"So, one of my managers wants to replace one of my employees just because of a medical lapse? That's what all the fuss is about?"
Somehow Max understood that she was smiling.
"Yes, that's right. That's right. Although "replacement" might be a better word."
"Wow, my goodness. Not only does he want to replace her, he's asking for a stand-in for her." He shook his head, "We don't do subs in my company, Lenis, you know that. Look, I'm tired of these people who think they own the consortium because they have a high position and always want to give their opinion about things that happen to me personally. I'd like to know how Clarence found out that Carla and I..." He cleared his throat and sighed, "It's unfortunate that the guy is good at what he does," he whispered to himself. "Please, tell Clarence to go to the Human Resources department and ask for loan assistance there, not the President's office. Remind him that we don't handle that. Let him understand that we don't consider that medical report to be aberrant or embarrassing and not to talk to us about replacements again, especially not today."
"Understood."
If Max could hear thoughts, especially over the phone, he could have heard Lenis say, "And less so if it's about Carla Davis, right?"
Chief and secretary chatted about a couple of other things and the call ended, with a thoughtful, very thoughtful Max.
Rain, exercise, and stress drained in the morning, but it only took one phone call for everything to change overnight.
A very important man in his life had just passed away and a lady, also important, was ill and would miss work at a very important time for the company.Fred Davison, a business enemy from his past had died. Carla Davis, one of the four assistants in the Protocol department, which was equal to Press within the consortium, was ill due to stress and he sensed that the blame for this condition was born after events that had occurred months before between both of them.
Maximiliano got up from his chair and left his office, heading upstairs. Upon entering his bedroom, the largest in the house, he walked straight to his cell phone.Dialed the number of his lawyer, who answered in less than three rings."Bastidas calling me early, this is weird," the lawyer joked. "What happened now?""Fred Davison is dead," Max reported. He could almost hear the gears of his legal advocate kicking in."When did it happen?""Lenis just called me and confirmed it.""Mmm..." There was silence between the lines. "I'll get up to speed on his company's situation right away."Max wanted to say, "Yes, please," or "Perfect," but chose to remain silent. He didn't like the deceased, but he was a human being after all, and it seemed cruel and disrespectful to confirm to his lawyer that the interest in calling him was only to investigate the status of the deceased's shares and assets. In other circumstances, he might not have minded being this painless with business, much less wit
"Carla, what are you doing here? Weren't you sick?" Bobby Clarence asked when he saw her enter the Protocol department.The director of that area, a tall, thin man, with a lined face and black hair combed back with gel, wearing a lead-gray two-piece suit that seemed a little big for him, stood up from his seat behind the desk as a courtesy, surprised to see one of his four assistants on a day's leave."Bobby," she greeted, standing very close to the door, "can you explain to me what a girl from human resources is sitting in my cubicle? She tells me that the department has sent her to... to replace me.""Sit down, please." Clarence pointed to one of the two chairs in front of the table.Carla agreed, avoiding letting out a sigh."Replace is not the word. Supply. And only while you're on leave..." He interrupted his words abruptly. "You were on leave, weren't you?"Carla, at times, had to deal with the strange decisions and attitudes of her most direct superior: the annoying Bobby, as so
Carla closed the door and headed into the living room.She sat down in the largest armchair, placing the box on top of the low table in front of her.She inhaled deeply and opened the box. Took out a thick folder. It was wrapped in a giant plastic envelope with the logo of an international delivery company on it.The folder bore the logo of Davison & Associates. She opened and read the headlines on the document."Accounting records?" she whispered to herself.The number-filled spreadsheets showed accounts for the last five years of his father's company."Partnership? Board of Directors?"After the pile of accounting sheets, there was a file of each associate of the company, showing the entire structure."Why am I reading all this?"The answer came as she turned one of the last pages. The headline read: "International Associates".Her breath caught in the throat and the folder almost slipped from her hands.Carla had to drop it, open, onto the wooden table.Brought the hands to her mou
They reached the end of the bar, on its left side.Max sat down and ordered a whiskey, while B.J. stood close behind him, fully alert.The girl turned to leave, giving a furtive glance at the mass of bodyguards, before disappearing completely.Max almost burst out laughing under his breath. B.J. looked like a dry, emotionless rock, yet he was a guy, and the CEO understood perfectly that underneath all those clothes and professional attitudes, there existed the powerful thoughts of a man. He believed that those powers should always be guarded against.The music was not too loud and Max was grateful for that. He took advantage of that outing so he wouldn't have to think too much about the loneliness of his home or everything that had happened in his office. He was looking for a couple of drinks there to shake off his problems a bit.A slight movement to his right made him turn his head.B.J. greeted a man with a bushy beard, fluffy brown hair, tall, rather handsome, wearing a blue jean,
Carla was now facing a truth that she didn't want to be tied to, but in her fierce determination to defend herself and not accept it, she doubted everything, from the people around her, from herself.Born in the land of her late father and knowing the power that surrounded him, at least in part, she sensed that those laws would be like a thick and heavy blanket, impossible to remove, toxic, suffocating, and shocking. Her foreboding had a whispering voice telling her right in the ear: "Get ready, because you have no way out".«Exit», she thought, fighting that voice during the travel home.Carla imagined what she would do when arrived, the steps to take, the drawers would open and perhaps leave half-closed in the rush her head was lucubrating to have under an escape plan.She got off the bus at the usual stop, near the popular market used to frequent, the same one she went to not so long ago, a while ago, to buy kitchen utensils, and various ingredients from that gentleman who was her
Carla felt something in her chest, a great pressure that seemed to cover her stomach and explode right there, disconcerting."Carla!" He ran and covered her with the umbrella. "What are you doing?""No. What are you doing here?!" With that question, she ran ahead of him towards her house.He gritted his teeth, but couldn't stand to argue in the rain, which, despite the umbrella, was partially wetting him. He ran after her and they met on the roofed porch as she shook off the excess water to locate the front door, keys inside her handbag."Gimme, I'll help you...""No," she cut him off, emphasizing the movement of her hands on the purse he pretended to grab. "That's it," she announced when the door listened to her after using the key.They went into the house.She turned on the light and in front of Max's eyes, an entire wooden house unfolded. It smelled of flowers, flour, and something like sugar. Suddenly cookies bring back memories of times in his life that he had not recalled."Wh
Walk through the house, despair. All-hazards calls, unanswered calls. Carla wrote an email to her Aunt Lin, her mother's sister, to help her locate an attorney to advise her and serve as a companion in the midst of all the madness.Her distress prompted to urgently settle down in front of her computer. She needed to get in touch with her aunt as soon as possible.She was in a lot of trouble. For Carla, the choking inside her confirmed her theory: things would get worse if she didn't do something about it.Wearing her home clothes, her straight, black, long hair tied up in a high bun, this being a December night, barely illuminated by the dim light from the kitchen, she turned on her laptop, opened the email application and started typing, trying to placate the strong feeling of injustice that was sweeping over her at that hour.To: lingreat100@email.cityFrom: carladavis1986@email.city"Auntie Lin, I need urgent help! And I hope you read this email in time. I need a lawyer, maybe you
Christmas Eve arrived. It was a few hours before the beginning of the celebration.The most disconcerting thing for Carla, in all her life, was not having recognized an evildoer, an obstacle of her boss Maximiliano Bastidas, some months ago. Or collaborating with the city's justice system, or with the authorities, to have one of the most wanted men in the whole country imprisoned. Much less that those events that happened not so long ago made her and Max interact better, get to know each other a little more, just a little, and come to feel something, a kind of attraction that could be summed up physically.Nor was it finding out that her father had thought of her at a certain point in her life and left her an inheritance she did not want, much less signing a non-disclosure agreement and a prenuptial document, something she had never thought of doing, at least not under those circumstances and much less without a lawyer to back her up. What was truly disconcerting was receiving at home
Arriving at the mountains, Daniel's pick-up entered the second village, a very picturesque place that welcomed him with the decoration of the local fair, and quiet people walking here and there.From rock they went to pop, then to ballads... several songs played on the vehicle's stereo helped them to cheer up, especially the guards. Glint wanted them to feel that this was not a job, but an adventure, an outing with friends. Daniel loved empathy, he thought that this word and its precise action saved his nights and days of boredom and idleness. Sometimes, he felt people inside his hands; it was not something too pleasant when it happened all the time, but in the moments he needed it most, perfection was something that always worked for him."Turn on the GPS," Daniel commanded to the driver, who obeyed, lowering the volume of the music to open the app that would help them get to the inn.There were still a few meters to go, as the reservation was located at the end of the village. At th
She sighed; at least she got what she wanted, for him to walk away to change clothes.One of the things Max assureds her once during those long conversations on the bed, was the lack of cameras on that side of the building, functioning as an intimate area where people could be naked if they wanted, people she never saw, but Max only indicated the two of them could undress there if they wanted to; he did it constantly, didn't care because he knew very well that there were no cameras. For that reason, Carla used to always make sure she was not accompanied, to go with her bathing suit on, however, because of the recent circumstances, she went down without anything prepared and had to undress there, so she took off the gray panties with unusual details in its confection and armhole sleeve, staying in her underwear, a tight white bikini tailored, which she then took off without looking away from the gym.Carla put on the full white swimsuit, gathered her black hair in an onion-style ponyta
Daniel gave precise instructions to everyone. Leaving the original bar in charge to his assistant, he decided it was time to withdraw for a moment from all the pressure, even from the networks, promising to turn off his cell phone by the time he reached his destination.His driver was already waiting for him in one of the pick-ups destined for his trip; two guards from the new team he recently hired, all dressed in civilian clothes, were standing by, one at the door of his apartment, the other in the lobby of the building.After paying a good amount of money to each of them, especially to the heads of the yellow and pink media who were after him, he remembered the words of his lawyer, who repeated on several occasions how beneficial it was for him that the police had Hilary's sister, who was the only troublemaker who could disrupt everything with her denunciations a vox póluli, in custody and isolated.Daniel was in a hurry. Several days before that September 15, he found out who the
Carla didn't let anyone open the door for her and when the youngest bodyguard wanted to help, Maximiliano signaled him not to intervene, to leave her alone.She went up the elevator alone, Max had to resort to another one to get to the floor. She entered the apartment alone and slammed the door a few seconds before it arrived, without missing anything, neither noises nor stomping much less the enormous female annoyance.Max walked in and closed the door, wanting very much to slam it too, but restrained himself. His phone was ringing, but he didn't pay attention, didn't even take it out of his pants pocket. As soon as he took off his jacket, he threw the keys to the apartment into the glass bowl and continued walking with energetic steps in search of his wife, wherever she was.He found the door to Carla's room open, the handbag on the bed, the golden sandals on the floor, scattered as if nothing, messy. He heard water but not much. He knocked on the door."Carla, let me in."She didn'
Carla tilted her head to one side, throwing it back slightly with a smile full of doubt."What?""I imagine your husband wouldn't have wanted to bother you with such a tidbit of information, and I apologize for being the unwise one to blurt it out, but I think you should know all about it. Brandon Hial is the nephew of your father's wife, Carla. That's a reality that he knew all along."Carla didn't speak for a couple of seconds."What?"Yul exhaled quite a lot of air, stirring in the armchair. Age and so much work added to her back a perennial pain that always made her move every time she sat down."It's a fact of life, girl, sorry again to tell you. Brandon was sought out by his aunt when she found out who his girlfriend was. They didn't have any kind of closeness, but he always knew who his aunt was, of course, you wouldn't think the reporter found out about her roots late." She laughed a little at that. "What he didn't know was you, his girlfriend, were the daughter of Fred Daviso
Already upstairs, and after crossing the threshold of the hall, the couple was greeted by each member of the board directors, except, of course, the head of the press office, since there was still a vacancy to be filled after what happened with Brandon, he was expelled from the payroll.Everyone surrounded the big table. When they saw the majority shareholders arrive, they rose courteously to greet them. "Please, come in," Romina D'Marc greeted, head of publicity, who was currently in charge of filling the gap left by the journalist after what happened at the museum."Mr. Bastidas," Mr. Francisco Billabond greeted, shaking hands with both the newcomer and his wife, "let me express my most sincere congratulations on your day, on behalf of the entire team," the head of the public relations department of Davison & Associates continued. "Please take your seats."Maximiliano looked around, analyzing everyone's body language, as well as an inspection of the place in question, realizing tha
One of the things he most admired about Carla, and what Max liked the most, was that she didn't wear the clothes that he ordered to put in her closet, expensive clothes he ordered to buy, clothes he offered her as a gift. She always left everything put away, Carla didn't touch the pants, dresses, or shoes, and Max knew that the word pride didn't fit, she wasn't proud, Carla simply didn't see the need to wear anything else if she already had her closet, one that she could bring from The City and that, to his surprise, worked perfectly, everything suited her very well and looked exquisite because Carla always (proving it to him every day) had good taste.Max began to corroborate this again when he saw his wife almost parading out of the hallway of rooms in the apartment they shared wearing a sublime outfit that made her look extremely elegant and even much more so than any party dress he could have bought for her. A gray-blue panty with vertical timbered reliefs that were only noticeab
Pissed off, very upset, almost scared. Peter couldn't believe that one of the most dangerous criminals that The City had ever had the misfortune to meet was still harming, regardless of being in prison. He didn't want to say anything to anyone yet, despite the need to keep Max and George informed. He wanted to corroborate his suspicions by finding out much more about this Oswaldo Hurtado, who seemed like a ghost.In about two weeks, Oswaldo took him through a line of inquiry he didn't want to revisit, points in the capital, and contacts he had left behind.When Lenis Evans, the secretary of his friend Maximiliano, came into their lives, Peter realized that Evans' name must be false, and little by little, the very vicissitudes of destiny, a destiny that would keep them together forever, made them understand that it was indeed so. Her name was not Lenis Evans, but Lisa Diaz; she was married to the advisor of the ex-governor Jefferson Smith, currently imprisoned as well and not only for
(Fifteen days earlier).Peter was sitting in one of the office chairs that surrounded the large central table of his office, which was the interior of a shed and a large gray building nicknamed Spaceship, which was nothing more than the headquarters of his security agency, one that he created several years ago after specializing in international security and high-risk protocols.In front of large computer screens, monitors connected to several computers, surrounded by keyboards and mice, he was watching everything, still, thoughtful, after having reviewed the evidence in front of him.He was accompanied by one of his star agents, Jaya Takur, nicknamed J.T., who was an expert in communication technology and research, updated with the latest trends used by the best agencies in the world. Both of them, silent, each one immersed in their investigation, analyzed everything they ordered in front of them.The autopsy was approved by the judge and Peter had just given Maximiliano the results.