Chapter 87: Chapter 87

THE WHITE...

There are smart men. Those who build airplanes, who move a piece of sheet metal and call it a car. Men who make the world prosper, because they always take something out of their mind and put it in the ground.

On the other hand, there are the muscular men. They rarely use their brain more than their arms. They are the executors. The evil one can even build the plane, but who will fly it?

But still, there is a third category, and I dare say it is the best of all. Clever men and doers. Those who don't use their brains to do something, but pay someone to do it. They are the infamous bosses, the ones who pay the salaries of smart people and executors, and don't even have to get out of bed.

It's interesting, because right now I see two men working. One is an airline pilot; executor man. The other is an advisor; the smart man. They argue over refueling the plane for the past month, and they each have a point of view. The thing is, whatever the discussion, they're both on my payroll.

I don't need to say that last month's fuel consumption was very high, my adviser does.

- This is unacceptable, Plake. Even if you flew to China every day, this consumption would be explainable! Daniel said.

- The plane has been consuming a lot of fuel since last year. Saving on maintenance is never really a saving - Plake defends himself.

They don't hate each other, on the contrary. They are friends who drink beer together on Sundays. But they want me to see how effective each one is, so they got into this little fight between high consumption and low maintenance.

- You should... - Daniel starts, but I cut him off.

- All right, girls. The conversation is over. Send the plane for overhaul, Plake – I say, pointing to the fifty-year-old in front of me – And you, Daniel – I look at my adviser – Follow the consumption after maintenance.

So ! Problem solved.

The men look at each other like children who have just been scolded, then nod their heads in approval.

- Perfectly. Excuse me - Plake is the first to leave the room, good and wise man that he is. Daniel does not take long to follow suit.

And alone, finally, I collapse on the chair behind me. I stretch my legs out on the table, which is littered with probably important papers. But again, smart men should worry about the paperwork, not their boss.

The environment around me is not very organized, but it is clean. An accountant's common room, full of paper boxes that smell of dust. To anyone walking in here, it looks like a low traffic accounting office with a few busy employees. And honestly, for money laundering, it's fine.

There's a knock on the door, then David enters. The money laundering guy; something between the boss and the smart man.

- Do you have a lot of free time?

"All the time in the world for you," I replied.

David is the reason women should stay away from overly nice men. He has his office, his hair is neat, his suit is neat, he drives a nice car and, out of curiosity, he is more corrupt than a mouse.

- Why are you so early in America? he asks as he walks over to the table.

David is my accountant. And while I'm not the most politically correct man in the world, I love filing my corporate tax returns every year.

"I..." I trailed off when I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pants pocket. I pull out the phone and look at the caller ID. It's a call from the Palazzo, my building, so I pick up.

- Sir... – stammers the receptionist – Hello.

- Carter - hi.

- Sir, your girlfriend left a message.

I look at David, who is now putting the papers away on the table. If I had only been focused on work, and hadn't had the brilliant idea of buying Angelic, I certainly wouldn't have had this conversation with the receptionist.

- My girlfriend?

- Yes – he clears his throat – She said she would come back for dinner.

I think about what I just heard. She returns ?

- She left? I ask while getting up already. I show the papers - Take care of that - I instruct David. He nods.

- Yes sir. She has just taken a taxi in front of the building.

Woman from Hell.

Sure enough, Angelic hasn't said where he's going, which means I'll have to look all over New York. Still.

- Which direction did the taxi go?

Air ducts.

She just came out through the fucking vents in the ceiling.

I fix the living room ceiling of the apartment, now with a hole where the duct grille should be. I imagine Angelique on the sofa, unscrewing screws with a kitchen knife. My mistake was to underestimate his ability to provoke me.

- How long has she been out? I ask.

Carter is next to me, staring at the floor railing in amazement, her mouth hanging open. He doesn't know me, but he knows that no one with half a brain could vandalize my apartment and run away without me knowing.

- Twenty minutes on the clock.

Angelic could go to Skyla, but I know he didn't. It would be the most obvious place, and the first place I would look for you. She wants to play a little game. Unfortunately for you, I'm the worst opponent in the world.

"Let me know if she comes back," I say, even though I know she won't come back on her own.

- Of course sir.

I step into the elevator and enter the code – which I think was enough to keep Angelic locked in. When in a thousand years can I imagine it coming out the ceiling?

I'm used to managing high risk. It doesn't surprise me that someone had the idea to open the conduits. It is also a classic among prison escapees. It surprises me that someone is Angelic Donneli. But, I must confess, I am now inspired. She raised the bar of the game.

Arrived at the ground floor, I leave the building. The valet hands me the keys to the car I left parked on the side of the sidewalk. I think of different destinations as I get in the car. I can't even track your phone since I threw it in the office trash the other night.

I don't want to involve other people this time. No matter what hole she's in, I'll be the one to find her, go there and bring her back.

Angelic wanted to piss me off as much as I pissed her off by buying it. She wants me to repent. Think about this; what would she do to piss me off?

If she wanted to tease me, she would go to a random party and dance half-naked on a stranger's lap. But if she really wanted to fuck with my head, she would go to Vicenzo Mares' apartment - like she said she wanted.

Damn. The second option, no doubt.

I speed down New York's main thoroughfare, doing ten traffic laws a minute. I hope I'm wrong, arrive at Mares' apartment to find it empty. But when it comes to Angelic, I know I'm right.

My mind works two actions. First, find this Donneli. Second, what to do when I get my hands on her.

I don't come from a good place. I'm not a good person. I live in the sewer of life. I live in the dark. I live inside the wall of people's fears. When Angelic teases me, she has no idea what I can do to fight back.

One day she will find out that I don't hunt. I take, I buy, I abuse, I devour. Well, this day will be tragic.

I arrive at the Mares building, in the center of the city. The building was bought after the election of the senator, and no one suspected that he was filling his pockets with public money. I get out of the car, barely bothering to close the door.

Adrenaline flows through my veins faster than blood. I could have been cold, I could have sent someone to get her. I could just beef up the building's security so she'll never leave without my permission again. I could act calmly and patiently, as I always have.

But that's not the person Angelic summons.

I bathe my destiny in blood. I succeed with the loss of others. Your mistake, Angelic Donneli, was thinking it would be different with you.

A couple walks through the revolving doors of the building. Being a building of the late senator, this place has become very busy in recent days. I enter the building, heading towards reception.

- Hello. My name is ... - I won't allow the young woman on the other side of the bench to continue.

- Apartment 112. I need keys urgently. The code is 1206.

The receptionist stares at me for a brief second. His eyes are wide, probably because he hasn't dealt with an impatient person yet.

- Of course, of course - she fumbles, trying to open a drawer.

I look at her blond hair tied in a bun, her mid-length uniform and her tolerable makeup for this time of day. Her name is Karen, after her badge.

Could you exit the building through the air ducts, Karen? I bet not, because Karen is not a tomboy.

- Here they are, sir...

- Seas – complete.

She places the pair of keys in my hand. One for the front door, one for the emergency door of the apartment.

I head for the elevator, taking the first one available.

I didn't need to know the security codes for all the Mares family properties, but I do. Since the first time, Vicenzo and I were in the same room. Since the first time, his mischievous eyes have been on the wrong girl. I knew from that time that I needed an ace up my sleeve.

Whore. I don't need to say that I'm better than him. None of us are the good guys in the story. So if we decide to be the bad guys, let's at least be good at what we do.

The elevator doors open again on the fifth floor. There are two apartments, one on each side, and the decor leaves something to be desired, in my opinion. The chandelier on the ceiling does not match the wallpaper, nor the door frames.

I stop in front of Vicenzo's apartment, the very one where he had an orgy with his high school classmates. Since that time, he was already counting on Angelic Donneli to be his future wife.

I unlock the door and push it open. At first, I'm almost relieved to find that all the lights are out and the curtains drawn. But then I see a light on the left. I enter the apartment. The light comes from the kitchen.

I look around. I expected more from the senator's son. The apartment is not big, but it has enough space for a mouse like him. The first room is the living room, followed by a hallway leading to the bedrooms.

I turn on the living room light and the next second, Angelic appears in the kitchen doorway. She's holding a glass of water and staring at me with the cynicism of someone waiting for me.

"Hi," she said, seductive and treacherous as a snake.

I slide my eyes over her body. She exchanged her dress for my clothes; sweatpants, twice your size, and a white T-shirt. Angelic is an extremely feminine and delicate figure, however, she looks great in men's clothes.

Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't think so if it was another man's clothes.

I was ready to put a leash on her and drag her to my apartment, where she wouldn't leave until she redeemed herself. However, now, looking at Angelic, I wonder what his real intention was. Besides pissing me off, why would she want me to kick her out?

- Is this Mares' apartment? I ask, even though I already know the answer. I want to know if she knows.

- Yes – she said – He will be here in a few minutes, I think. You better go.

Kiss my ass.

I raise my eyebrows. I crossed the city in ten minutes. I broke into this fucking apartment. I fight not to put it on my shoulder for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. I bypassed building security. What world does Angelic think I'm going to leave just because Mares are about to arrive?

"Fuck you," I said.

Advance. Don't follow Donneli's rules anymore. I grab Angelic's wrist and pull him away. She drops the glass of water on the floor, breaking the glass and spilling the water. Angelique protests, but doesn't have enough strength to fight back. She follows me, practically dragged.

I know I'm breaking my own rules. I know that I act in a way that even I don't approve of. All because of this woman. However, responding to his provocations becomes a habit, an addiction, a necessity.

Obsession kills. Lust kills. Greed kills. But if it hurts, it makes me attached.

I walk down the hallway, looking for the master bedroom. Room of Vicenzo Mares.

ANGELIC...

I jump over the shards of glass – the glass I just knocked over. LeBlanc drags me effortlessly down the hall. I look at the apartment's front door, which he hasn't even locked.

LeBlanc opens the door to the first bedroom, but doesn't seem satisfied. He heads for the second, which is a bathroom. I only realize his intentions when he opens the door to the master bedroom and then steps inside.

I've never been in Vicenzo's apartment. I've never been in a man's apartment, at least not alone. Of course, I would never say that to LeBlanc. If he asks, I'll say I frequented this apartment every day.

Aaron stops, stares at the bed made of sheets and white duvet. He looks at me over his shoulder.

- Is that the bed where he thinks he's going to eat you?

Not.

The Mares family likes to have all their close relatives. In that case, I bet Vicenzo would take me to live with his mother and siblings in the Hamptons.

- He thinks? I raise an eyebrow.

Right now, I don't feel attractive. The clothes on my body hold me together. But when Aaron looks me in the eye, I feel like I've never looked better. Your green eyes, sometimes more yellowish, see everything I've tried to hide. They see my dark side.

He lets go of my wrist, then takes a step towards me. LeBlanc takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He keeps walking, forcing me back. I jump when I lean against the wall.

The closer he gets, the more he takes my breath away. The more I smell your perfume, the less I like other smells.

- What are you doing to me? - he whispers.