Bethany accompanied her parents to the airport as their flight was announced ready to be boarded. She had insisted too much on them extending their stay for a while longer in Italy, still feeling like an unknown person in their life. Work responsibilities were her best excuses. Neither of them had left the United States for a long time, and they were terrible at the language.
His daughter told them, with some contained relief, what until now Ciro had dared to tell her about his life.
-Did he mention anything to you about the woman you hinted at? - Caitlin asked.
-No. I didn't want to talk about it either. I think if it was important, he would have told me. Maybe it's Brahim who wants to fill my head with ideas.
-What I think is that you can't keep anything hidden. You must force Ciro to tell you. He can't take advantage of your accident to clean up his image, if he really did deceive you. - Her father suggested protecting his daughter. If he could, he wou
Ciro walked from one end to the other in front of a horizontal line of people, including employees of one of his drug manufacturing companies. The harmful material was hidden in cans of baby formula.-To those who have the vague thought that they can hand me and my brother over to the federals, I say that these are suicidal thoughts. - He said, stopping in the middle of his walk, looking at each of his employees, almost sixty in number. Ciro inspired more authority than fear. The real fear was produced by Brahim, who was not with him that day.The employees continued manufacturing, with Ciro inspecting each area. Walking slowly between the aisles formed by the tables. Some of the employees were in charge of producing the cans, others of manufacturing the drugs, and the third group packed the cans in a specific order, for every three cans of milk, one was adulterated. On a fruitful day, a maximum of one thousand kilos were made and distributed to several countries in Eu
As she reached ecstasy, Bethany raised her gaze to the stars, silent witnesses of the passion that overflowed from their bodies. The engaged couple were in the backyard of the house, deep in the pool, giving themselves over to the desires of the flesh. Ciro had his beloved against the curb making love to her. In his mind there was no room for anyone but Bethany. He could not smell any other perfume than the lavender that oozed from her skin, he could not taste anything other than the cherry flavor of her lipstick and his touch was beginning to recover what was once his. Bethany was all he had, he felt everything. His world revolved around her.Bethany, on the other hand, was not reciprocating her feelings. Her mind was playing dirty with her and, instead of allowing her to enjoy her fiancé, it was giving her other memories that confused her. They were attached to Brahim: his scent, his touch, his voice... She felt him more familiar than her fiancé. She tried hard to live the
Sitting in the chair behind her desk, Bethany once again wrote in her journal."I'm Bethany Carter, a real estate agent who can't find passion for her job. The days at my firm are long and tedious as I try to find my calling, or whatever it is that motivated me to choose this profession.I am a bold woman, bold enough to approach a stranger in a bar and offer him a drink. I am a shameless woman, so much so that I became my brother-in-law's lover.I had a son who did not survive the first week after birth. Although I can remember living a longer and happier life with him."He marked the end point and reread it, then recapitulated everything in his diary. From the first entry to this last one, he had managed to fill in several gaps that made sense of some of his memories, although it was still confusing.They knocked on her door, she allowed them to enter.-A prospect is interested in acquiring our services, however he has insisted on speaking
Lost in a remote natural setting, the happy couple of future spouses lay aboard the mustard-colored Mustang Shelby in which Ciro was teaching Bethany to drive, under an incandescent weekend sun. The land they were driving on was approximately five thousand hectares, all of it had been owned by Sandro Tonali, and now by his children.Driving lessons were fruitful. Bethany was not so much learning to drive as refreshing her memory. She had vague memories of learning to drive at the age of sixteen. She remembered learning from a woman whose face she couldn't quite see, and her deep-rooted need to feel in control of her life made her believe it was Caitlin.-Very good! - Ciro congratulated, ecstatic with adrenaline as he parked the car. His fiancée had the accelerator at full throttle and at no time lost control of the steering wheel.-I love it. I don't know how I spent so much time having a private driver. - The woman exclaimed.-Don't get carried aw
Before the sun had even risen on the horizon, Ciro had risen from the bed he shared with his fiancée and left the house without her noticing. He headed south of Florence where he was guarded for three hours, without being allowed to make any stops.His destination was one of his companies, the one with the lowest production that functioned more like a loading and unloading warehouse. His brother was waiting there, and he had been waiting for hours. They greeted each other and entered a small, ragged and unused parking lot. There was a truck stopped and about ten guards protecting it. After the Tonali brothers arrived, they opened the rear doors of the vehicle, revealing more than fifty well-sealed cardboard boxes.In one swift movement, Ciro climbed onto the platform and walked the long distance to the boxes. He bent down and tore off the packing tape that sealed it, and before his eyes fell a large quantity of bundles of banknotes. The rest of the boxes would h
The plane arrived at the airport in the American capital as the sun was setting. Stepping onto American soil gave Bethany a breath of fresh air. Italy, although beautiful and sublime, still felt like a foreign land. Meanwhile, the small and insignificant piece of the United States that she had barely traveled through (the airport) forged in her a longing for nostalgia. Naïvely, she created an innocent illusion that her home, or her parents' home, would reinforce that feeling.She found her parents easily in the crowd and embraced them warmly. They left the airport with Red helpfully carrying his daughter's bags. He then offered her the passenger seat. The driver seemed to be clinging to Caitlin, who didn't even allow herself to debate it.The drive home didn't seem familiar to Bethany, who didn't miss a thing. Her parents lived in a picturesque, expensive neighborhood. In a one-story house, but it was spacious.-Is this where I grew up?"Yes." Was Ca
The next day, with the sun already warming the streets, Bethany left her house with her father, who offered to take her to the Washington DC academy. It was not far from her house, so they walked quietly, through a seemingly pleasant neighborhood."Didn't Mom have an appointment at the hospital today?" he asked. Caitlin had stayed home, tidying up after getting up very late.-He asked for some days off so he could spend as much time with you as possible. - Red clarified.They walked without hurrying, not wanting to be chased. Her dad, very attentive, pointed out places he used to frequent, like a computer rental shop where he spent long hours. Or a candy store where he shopped every day after school. Bethany didn't remember it, but she could imagine it.She didn't talk much about people. She mentioned that, during her teenage years, she wasn't very sociable. Her closest friends could be counted on the fingers of one hand, and none of them were in the city
The midnight in Washington DC was more refreshing than in Italy, even whipped by a cold breeze. Bethany was lying in her bed, completely lucid . On the verge of tears. So far, her trip had been fruitless, with only American food making her most homesick. At home she felt no different than at Ciro's house. There, too, she was a guest. The academy, instead of recovering details from her memory, confused those she had already had.He got up from his bed and went to one of his suitcases where he took out his personal diary. He looked for the first blank page and, pen in hand, began to write new compilations."I'm Bethany Carter, a stranger in my own life. I'm not passionate about my job, and I don't know the people who claim to love me. My future husband is an Italian lawyer and businessman. He's extremely sweet, but I find his brother rather unpleasant, despite having been my lover.My fiancé knew my brother long before he met me, but no one notices that fac
Once again, Bethany woke up in a bland, cold hospital bed, but this time it wasn't in Florence, and her name wasn't Bethany either, but Anne. As soon as she arrived on American soil, she felt immense relief; she would finally stop fighting for her life. She was taken to a hospital that offered exclusive services to law enforcement officers, veterans, and their families. They subjected her to different tests, from blood tests to a psychological study. Finally, she was alone, lying on her back looking out the window at a moon that was a couple of nights away from being full; it was just as beautiful as in Italy. She thought about Brahim, if she had gotten to a hospital in time or if he would have died in the helicopter. And she also thought about Ciro, about that last promise he had made her. She didn't want to obsess, but it was almost impossible. If she had learned anything from Ciro Tonali, it was that he was stubborn; he would do everything possible to keep his word. "Bethany"
The vastness of the forest was reduced to Ciro's feet, he knew it like the back of his hand, and that was no exaggeration. He had grown up there, he had played hide and seek with Brahim many times, he had also walked there with his father looking for wildlife to hunt. He would never have imagined that in the future he would hunt his wife. It was when he understood that he was not the master of his destiny, which was what scared him the most.- Where are you taking me? - Anne asked, finally calming her tears. She walked ahead of Ciro, one of his hands holding her thin neck, while in her free hand she held the gun in the area of her lower back.-Brahim is waiting for us. – was all he said. He felt his heart squeezing, resisting this act of cruelty towards his wife, the woman of his life. He had found her hiding behind the rock long before the agent did and he stood frozen, watching her in ter
Anne found herself facing a wooded area of more than fourteen thousand two hundred hectares, she had already crossed them on her own foot, although this time it was different, because she had a pair of criminal brothers following her. She couldn't go down the main road, the only path free of weeds and leaves, where the vehicles moved, it would be too obvious. She advanced along the right furrow, clearing her path of branches and leaves, watching the ground carefully to jump over puddles or stones that she could trip over. She wasn't sure if there were snakes or spiders hiding in the undergrowth, she had no room to think about it, the real danger was the Tonali brothers. Her heart leapt into her chest when she became aware of the echoing footsteps following hers. She quickly hid behind the thick trunk of a tree, hoping not to be seen. She heard the static typical of radio communicators, followed by the booming
It was 2:13 in Italy. Ciro's sleepless nights had already become a habit, as had his taste for liquor. He was in the cellar of his house drinking Sicilian anise, the bitter taste of which was accompanied by equally bitter memories that revived the moment when his own brother, blood of his blood, told him that he had impregnated his wife, the woman of his life. If he got drunk it was not to forget, he never understood people who drank to forget their sorrows, he kept them fresh in his mind, he did it to be able to fall asleep. He used liquor as a soporific substance. The silence of his solitude was broken by the ringing of his cell phone. He took the device with his free hand, without letting go of the glass of anise, and glanced at the caller ID, noticing a call from one of his lackeys. He pressed the green button and brought the cell phone to his ear, while bringing the glass to his mouth.-Sir, I have
Around nine o'clock at night, Michael, handcuffed and guarded as if he were a high-ranking leader of some South American Carter gang, returned to his native country, the United States. The autumn breeze that blew, carrying with it the smell of hot dogs, hamburgers and tacos, the English accent resonating on every corner and the delirious people walking the streets talking to nothing, welcomed him to a land to which he never thought he would return. SWAT convoy he was transported from the helipad to the operations headquarters. Once there, lower-ranking officers processed him, offered him a more comfortable coat, and fed him. Michael was not averse to any deal, and when he had to be cooperative, he was. However, he did not ignore the failure to read his rights. He was not wrong in assuming that this was no small oversight. The feds were running roughshod over legislation. They called law only
With two hundred thousand euros in his pocket, Michael had lived the last few months like a celebrity: traveling, going to and from parties, drinking alcohol in abundance and consuming other substances, and in addition to all this he had the pleasant female company of some women who would do anything in exchange for money. But he was not stupid, he knew that in the shadow of his gloating there were consequences. He had sold valuable information to the Italian mafia with an FBI agent in danger. That is why he was not surprised when he saw a BND patrol. (Federal Intelligence Service in German) parking outside the five-star hotel where he was staying for more than seven days. He swore and quickly packed a couple of wads of cash and some gold and silver items, anything of considerable value, into a small gym bag. His days of jubilation were over, and he now had to answer to higher-ups. Although i
They left the mansion aboard the already familiar Mustang bound for Florence. The city was invaded by the artificial lights of billboards, street lamps and shops stealing the spotlight from the moon that shone in its maximum splendor. Anne watched her through the window, following her as if she were trying to protect her from the man who was driving beside her. Ciro had not said a single word since they left the mansion. Not even when he saw her back wearing the dress he himself had chosen for her. He had only made sure that she was wearing the wedding ring on the right finger.“Where are we going?” Anne asked, choking on the silence. She was ignored. Ciro ignored her question as if she hadn’t said anything. The journey had seemed long for Anne, perhaps it was the distance from one point to the other or the silence. But they finally arrived. The restaurant was familiar to Anne, she had
A second ultrasound revealed healthy fetal development, in harmony with the mother who had followed Dr. Lamberti's instructions to the letter. The pregnancy was already beginning to be an external reflection, her flat abdomen was growing, forming a small, though noticeable, belly. They left the consulting room (or rather, Lamberti's house). Anne had an inconceivable feeling. A second look at her son left her strangely moved. She couldn't say if it was like this the first time, with her firstborn, or if it was a new sensation, either way it wasn't right, the situation she was in didn't allow her to think of sleeping teddy bears or color palettes. As much as it hurt her, the fate of that child was still in doubt.-Hey Anne… - Brahim suddenly said, staying a couple of steps behind, she had already opened the door of the Roll Royce - I feel like I owe you an apology for everything I've said
Although he would have liked to say nothing to James about the letter, Jonas saw no other alternative, so he traveled to the journalist's house and explained the situation SWAT was in, that blind spot from which it was not moving forward, and the solution he had approved as effective.-The private detective you hired would probably have found the house of these two criminals. - Jonas said. - If you give me the information he collected, maybe we can find an address.-That damn detective turned out to be a con man.-That!-As you hear. He was asking for more, much more than what was agreed in exchange for what he had discovered. I lost track of him weeks ago, I haven't heard from him again. - Jonas listened attentively, thoughtfully. It was not an option that was ruled out.-Give me his details and everything you know, or think you know about him, we will find it somehow. -And so James did. Michael was not a hidden or mysterious character, on the con