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SOLD TO THE CEO 38
thomasI look at the clock from time to time to see if I can go to the altar now. I still can't believe I'm getting married, and to a woman I still love. I always pictured myself walking down the aisle with some rich, high-society woman in a purely show marriage to keep up appearances. Rich marries rich, as they say. And they are not wrong. Now being here, nervous and anxious to see Cecilia dressed in a wedding dress was not in my plans.I arrange my blue tie in front of the mirror, arranging what I have nothing else to arrange. I hear a light knock on the door of the room where I am. - In between.'Mr Thomas, I have a problem. His fiancée is nervous and even threatened to give up on the wedding — one of the ceremonialists speaks after putting her head in the door.- What? Why? Where is she?The woman guides me with an expression of regret and I accompany her through the halls of the castle. Oh yes, my wedding couldn't be anything less than grand. Cecília tried to convince me that we
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EPILOGUECecíliaFIVE YEARS LATERI haven't been here for many years. Since I finished college and went to Brazil with Thomas, I haven't been back to New York. And it's been that long since I've seen Kelly, even though we talk almost every day, so I don't even try to hold back the tears when she hugs me.Time passed for her too. Kelly is now a newlywed woman and the belly is huge with the pregnancy already hitting six months. Thomas and her husband disappeared as soon as we got to their house and I bet they're discussing business. In the end, Kelly ended up marrying her college sweetheart after fighting with her father about not having an arranged marriage."I can't believe you're having a baby!" - I say and stroke her big belly. My friend gives me a huge, goofy smile.— I'm so happy, Cecilia — she says and rubs her belly too. - It's your fault.- My? I ask with raised eyebrows. She nods.— You kept honking that prince charming thing in my ear, and you married a man who treats you lik
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THE WHITE... The consumer of souls. There is a myth that says the devil in ancient times bestowed favors. It was like a kind of creditor, and people got into debt of their own free will. A few times later, when the devil came back to collect his share, people refused to pay. He, because he did not like to be deceived, burned their houses, their children and their fortunes. I look through the windows. It's a beautiful day, as far as New York is concerned. I'm sitting at one of the tables in the three-story cafeteria right in midtown Manhattan, one of the best in town, by the way. - Sir? – the attendant calls, with her soft, low voice, because she doesn't want to sound rude. I look at the lady in front of my desk. Charlotte. Every day, she gets up early, takes a train from the station closest to her home and arrives at the service even before sunrise. Charlotte opens the cafeteria, cleans the tables and puts on her impeccable uniform. She smiles at every tycoon who enters the establ
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ANGELIC...When you wake up and fall asleep with literally everyone's attention, it's hard to have a personality. Smile, be kind and reserved, don't talk, don't walk away... the rules become the only sure thing. Having friends, an ordinary teenage life or a free childhood are not on the priority list. Nothing but the protocols between.There is a golden cage and everything outside is forbidden fruit. You wonder what's out there and want to live as much as you can, but there's a clear limit. This limit, for me, is my father.The president of the country, and one of the richest men in it. The kind of person who loves his social status, and possibly his only daughter. There are those who say that he would have preferred to have a son, but he was content to have a daughter and be able to mold her according to his will.- How's the perimeter? – Marcos, my personal security, asks pressing the tip of his ear. He hears the answer – We'll be there in a minute.We're in the White House's second
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THE WHITE...Money moves the world, and I'm not superficial when I say that. Even the churches are full of millionaire paintings and corrupt priests. I mean, how far can we go in terms of purchasing power? Because everything has a price, some are just higher.I especially like waterfront mansions and sports cars. My character is highly questionable if you have a million dollars to offer me. But don't tell me the word with less than that.However, the money is not in the first place. Respect is.I park my latest purchase in front of the Campbell mansion, owned by one of Italy's wealthiest families. After getting out of the car, I straighten the black suit, even though I'm sure it's perfect.I walk to the front door of the house and, meanwhile, return to the previous thought. Money is everything. My last service was to Daniel Campbell's only son. He wanted his father to sleep the sleep of the just to put his devilish little hands on the family fortune.If you ask me, I'll say I don't ag
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THE WHITE...The first date is always a milestone in a man's life, and in my case, it means my first contact with the targets. I need to do some reading work: How many security guards? What places are you going to? Who could be blamed?Killing is easy, hiding evidence is a work of art.I treat my victims like a packer treats packages. It's never personal. If I get caught up in the details and sensitized, I get lost. I don't see anyone, I see a job.I park the bike on the side of the street and take off my helmet. On the other side, there is a small artisan café, run by Maria, mother of two small children. The store was renovated last year after vandals set it on fire. And why do I know all this? Because that's where Angelic buys his favorite coffee; coffee with almond milk, whipped cream and essence of mint.I lower the support foot of the motorcycle and I wait. After a few minutes, Angelic's personal security, Marcos, comes out of the store with a bag. He is a former MMA fighter who
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THE WHITE...I probably shouldn't see her. It's simple. Hit the target and get the job done, never look back unless you forgot the socket on the ground. But Angelic does a different job. She held my attention longer than necessary.I never see a face. I don't memorize details unless I dream of them later. I don't know his hair color or height. These are just targets, it's just a job. But I saw her. I now know the color of your hair, your height and shape, the color of your eyes and the structure of your nose. I know all its characteristics.I am an observant man. I never forget something if I spend more than five seconds looking at it, which is why I didn't have to look away a second time to make sure I captured an image of her in my spirit.The hair is light blonde, almost white, but some strands are darker than others. The nose is fine, small and slightly projecting upwards. The eyes are blue, no different from those of other blondes. But the lips… fuck, the lips. A woman with the r
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THE WHITE...I park the Tesla in front of the house of God. At least, that's what they say. The place where the corrupt politician kneels and asks forgiveness for leaving half a million people below the poverty line.I close my jacket and slowly enter the church. I admire the building, three times bigger than the last time I saw it. The building is old, but not old. The colors, the Renaissance style, the shapes. Everything gives the impression that the church has never been renovated, but the truth is that less than a million dollars would hardly be enough to raise the pillars.I look up at the cloudy sky. The instability of the climate in the big cities is what makes me miss an isolated island in southern Europe.I enter the holy temple, looking around out of habit. It is empty because it is still on Monday afternoon.It's been two days since the White House dinner, and I'm theoretically late. This service should be finished now. However, with Detective Pierce hot on my trail, I'm go
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- "What happens now?" Lora questioned.- "Steve will listen to the whole recording countless times" Colton replied, nonchalantly.Both walked side by side to the end of the hall, where the training room was located. The soundproofed room was empty that morning when Colton opened the door, then waited for the redhead to enter.Deep down, that militarized man didn't like what he was doing. Teaching Lora to be an agent, when she hadn't even mentioned that she enjoyed the profession, felt wrong.- "Today is your lucky day. Let's practice some shooting" he commented.Target shooting was an activity that involved testing proficiency and accuracy, foresight and speed. It didn't matter if the shot was short-range or long-range.- "Where do we start?" The redhead questioned.There was a demarcation on the floor of the room, which indicated the place where people should stand, so they could aim at the target and shoot. The distance between the mark and the target was ten meters. Lora positioned
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When she returned to her desk, Lora realized that the reason she left was no longer an issue. Her fame would be irrelevant if she was busy lusting after the one man she shouldn't. The redhead felt her knees weak; the fallen angel's touch was as vivid on her skin as her cells. Drake rose to pull out the chair for her, elegantly and gracefully. For strangers, thinking of them as a pair was automatic. - "I said you would be my key ring at events, but I think the key ring is me" he commented as he sat down with his friend, who held back a laugh. They both focused on stage as the musicians finished a classical melody, giving space to the master of ceremonies. - "Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you are having a pleasant evening. The starters will be served now, then we will have a greeting from the host" and, after an elegant gesture, the music reverberated through the environment, along with the murmur of voices in conversation private. - "You're a little flushed, but you don't seem to b
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Home to the most acclaimed films in the cinematographic world, the city of angels was more an environment of pretense and performance than of pleasure. The venues, as luxurious and elegant as they were, didn't exude money like Vegas. And neither should they. For Los Angeles, Hollywood's legacy was enough. The events were also an appropriate time to reaffirm ties of influence and show the world that, in addition to money, guests had contacts. It was a confidential agreement between the American stars; be at the top and help those who were at the top to stay. In the backseat of the limousine, Jean, Drake, and Lora waited outside the Roosevelt. One of the most famous hotels among the stars of the red carpet. At first, it would just be a dinner among the cast that made up the film, but it ended up becoming the reason for a small gathering of photographers. - "You're quite famous" Drake smiled at Jean. - "It seems so" the older man looked out, seeing all those people worshiping his name
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The city lights of Los Angeles were what lit up the world in dark times. The future was in the skyscrapers and in their grandeur. Every building on the outskirts of the city that never slept had a purpose; show your power. The Roosevelt Hotel was an interesting setting. With its white facade and large rounded supporting pillars, the building had a modern look. Its interior was no different, boasting an abundance of elegance. The chandeliers in the various rooms, the pure marble floors and the superior suites with indoor pools were signs of a fortune. In the master bedroom bathroom, in one of the city's most sought-after hotels, Evans Donovan was finishing lining up his bow tie in a millimeter way on his tuxedo. He surveyed his reflection, looking for flaws that anyone else wouldn't notice. But that man was obsessed with perfection in the details. His attire, as usual, was entirely dark. The only glow on her figure came from the silver rings on her fingers. When there was a knock on
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ANGELIC...The sun's rays hit my face, making me wake up. For the last few days, we've slept with the balcony doors open, listening to the sound of waves crashing against the ocean's horizon. This has been my paradise; sleep and wake up on this island.I open my eyes, looking around the room for Aaron. He's always the first thing I look for, the first thing on my mind from the first minute of the day. He's not here, but he's left an arrangement of lilies on the bedside table instead.I get up, pluck a flower from the arrangement, and spin it around, studying the white petals. I'm invaded by an old memory, which used to hurt a lot. I was twelve years old, and right after my mother's wake, I was in the garden at home. I was devastated after losing her, not only to her death but knowing that it meant I would be alone. And for a twelve-year-old girl, being alone in such a big house was really cruel.I thought I loved my family. I was so loyal to each one of them that I believed I loved th
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LEBLANC...Technology always amazes me. The way the world evolves, even if people don't follow the same path. And with that said, I'd like to point out one technology in particular: the Ferris wheel.Yes, the ferris wheel. Let's talk about her then.A large hoop of reinforced iron, with booths hanging from it, revolving endlessly to the right. Fast enough to entertain people, slow enough not to make you queasy. Simply fascinating, especially considering the colorful light show around.'I thought it was charming too,' Angelic says, interrupting my thoughts about George Ferris, the creator of the Ferris wheel.- What? I ask.- The ferris wheel. I was fascinated by her as a child.I look at Angelic, who is in front of me. I can visualize her child version, maybe with a bow in her hair. I can almost see her, tiny, staring at the ferris wheel, marveling at everything the curious eyes of a normal child can reach.However, on the other hand, I don't think she can have the same vision of me.
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LEBLANC...She's looking at me, her big blue eyes expectant, making me feel like the worst person in the world. Hope glimmers in every blink, and I, like the asshole that I am, am about to lie to Angelic.- And then? she asks as she holds me transfixed with her disgracefully beautiful eyes.Being a good liar doesn't mean I enjoy lying, and more, it doesn't mean I enjoy lying to her. However, I have no options left. I nod my head, because I believe false gestures are less cruel than false words."Just be honest," she pleads.No. No way.I'm leaning against the kitchen jamb, meanwhile, Angelic is behind the counter, in front of the stove. In my right hand is something she just cooked. Angelic said they were chocolate chip cookies. She said they were Christmas cookies. But honestly, I still haven't found the taste of chocolate, just burnt dough and sadness. This is really bad. In fact, bad is an understatement. It's a disgrace.- It is very bad? She frowns.Right now, Angelic is the most
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ANGELIC...When we got off the helicopter, the entrance doors to the house were already open. LeBlanc carries me in his arms, because I fell asleep at some point on the trip. This is explainable, as we took a short drive and then simply traveled to an island. He told me something about being a private person, but I couldn't imagine how much.I still feel half my brain asleep, so I don't even flinch at being held. I'm tired of tonight. In fact, in addition to being tired, I am resentful.I do my best to capture the details of the house. It appears to be an old building, with details reminiscent of castles. This suits LeBlanc as he appears to have king syndrome.'You live on an island,' I say. My words sound drunk with sleep."I don't like neighbors," he argues, making me smile.- Sounds arrogant.- Looks? – He looks at me – Make no mistake, I am.I snuggle into his chest as he heads upstairs. The place is so silent that it seems to be beyond the world. It looks like a bubble, where onl
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THE WHITE...I don't knock on the door, I just turn and push the handle. The Bellagio is famous for representing elite scum, and this room represents that taxation well. There are black leather couches on either side, a bar to the right, and a bottle of tequila on every square foot.I find Benjamin sitting on one of the sofas. First his eyes fall on me casually, then they stare at me. He is part of this little group that would dance on my grave.- Where are the good manners? – he asks, puffing out the smoke from his cigarette – I think old LeBlanc will remember that I don't change my face to kill a bastard.Nothing like old friends.- We can skip the threat part. I know them all.I close the door behind me and step forward. I sit down on the sofa across from him. The contrast between us is interesting. His excessive alcohol consumption, the clothes that make him look like he's just been in prison, the numerous tattoos and the cigarette. I'm very surprised Benjamin didn't already die i
