Chapter 95: Chapter 95

THE WHITE...

I like logical and rational explanations. I don't believe in attitudes coming from the soul or from the heart. This kind of shit just doesn't make sense to me. That said, I would like to understand what is happening to me.

What is this feeling that I break down when Angelic is next to me? As if I were full, overflowing, then collapsing.

A weakness?

A medical photo?

I close my eyes and let the shower wash that feeling down the drain as I shower. I try to get rid of her smell, the feel of her skin, the sight of her smile. Anything that makes me weak. However, it was a difficult task. Angelic has my perfume, my quirks and my clothes. She has become a part of me. I see myself in it, so much so that I feel it even when I am alone.

I turn off the shower and grab the towel that's wet from Angelic's shower. I use it anyway because I'm determined to have a peaceful day. When I walk in front of the mirror, I make a point not to look at the reflection. I don't want to feel like I'm failing my self-control. I don't want to feel like I threw years of work in the trash just because a pair of blue eyes landed on me.

I have nothing to do. I don't want to face reality.

Before going into the closet, I stop in front of the bed. Angelique is lying exactly in the middle of the bed, as I placed her yesterday after watching the same movie three times. I stand still, looking at her and wondering when I allowed her into my life.

When did it cease to be a service?

What makes her special?

And finally, why does she sleep so much?

I walk to the closet. I don't want to get rid of the feeling that I have angelic, but I have to get rid of the pressure it brings. Before, I was so miserable that my enemies didn't even see the point of hitting me. I had nothing to lose. Everything I owned was material. Now...

Now I have it.

I walk almost mechanically towards the shirts hanging on the hangers, but to my surprise, it's not my clothes on the hangers. I put away the dresses, which certainly don't belong to me.

Women. Of the. Hells.

I turn away, only to see the rest of Angelic's clothes. I have no doubt that she threw my clothes in the nearest trash can, however, I really don't want to believe that assumption. I spot the bags her clothes came in, so I go and open the first one. I find white shirts, and the pain I feel at the sight of crumpled laundry is almost physical.

I mean, would a man be respected wearing that?

No, it wouldn't.

I open the next few bags, seeing most of my clothes inside. I take a deep breath, however, one is not enough. Even if I breathed in all the oxygen in the world, it wouldn't be enough.

His attitude isn't the worst. My helplessness is.

Would someone else who really knows me do this to me? Nope! So I never had to think about the consequences.

I can't torture Angelic. I can't punish her. I can't hurt her. And if I gave her a few slaps, she would like that, so the proposed punishment wouldn't make sense, because I would like that too.

I separate the less crumpled pieces and dress them. I'm not even wearing a tie, because they're so ironed they'd look out of place.

Curse. This woman does not let me have peace.

I hear knocking on the bedroom door, and that distracts me from my indignation. As I walk, I finally glance at Angelic, reassuring myself that she hasn't woken up. Funny, isn't it? I care about her, and she's not shy about being a tomboy.

I open the door, first finding a forest of flowers in front of me. Right behind the flowers is Gabe.

- Have a nice day sir.

- Gabe - greeting.

"These flowers just arrived," she informs.

I remember asking for these flowers first thing in the day. At that time, I still didn't know that my clothes were in a bag. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching Angelic as she slept like a rock. And I'm not really the romantic type, but a girl like Angelic probably had high expectations for sex. I thought flowers would be the bare minimum.

- Thanks.

I pick up the flower arrangement and close the door. I look at the elegant and well-designed combination of orchids and lilac leaves, unlike the Angelic mess called an arrangement and placed in the middle of my living room. And worse, the arrangement that I don't have the courage to come out with.

I place the flowers on the side table, along with the card that says, "I hope there's still time to send flowers." That's a lot more than she's getting right now.

Before heading back to the closet, looking for a shoe that I pray isn't in one of those bags, I find myself in front of the bed for maybe the third or fourth time.

Her hair is spread on the pillow. Red lips parted. Chest rising and falling calmly. And under the sheets, nothing but my underwear on her body.

A part of me is at peace. While the recent feeling that Angelic is a part of my life has been overwhelming, knowing that she is safe reassures me. The other part of me is troubled, pleading for when she wakes up. Maybe that's why I choose how long she sleeps. I appreciate the moments that I can only have when this creature is awake. The smile, the spades, the jokes, the challenges. All.

I find myself in a trance until my cell phone starts vibrating on the table. I stare at the unknown number flashing on the screen, then I recognize it without much effort. This is the same number that called me the day the car Angelic was driving was shot. I grab the phone and answer it, hearing silence on the other end of the line within seconds.

I walk to the balcony of the apartment, closing the door behind me. I'm working on it, I know how to recognize a dodgy phone call when I get one.

- You have to remember me – said the man, calm as if talking to a friend – Last time I was still far – he continues – But now I'm so close that I can hear breathe.

I look through the glass doors to the balcony. Angelic is still sleeping and no one is in the room. For now, he's still bluffing, but I'm not going to underestimate my opponent.

"Keep hiding your identity for as long as you can," I said.

- Will I be dead when you know who I am? - he asks. Either I'm very wrong, or he's very brave, because I sense a certain irony in his tone – Like my father?

Adrenaline runs through my veins. Finally someone to rock my days. This time, it looks like I have an almost equal enemy. He prepared himself, and may God be with him, because that made me want to surpass myself.

- You thought you would spend your whole life executing people as if they were rats and that no one would revolt? – continues the Briton – I'm going to tell you a little story, so that you remember before going to bed.

I watch New York City unfold on the horizon. Today's morning is gray, so it doesn't seem like day has dawned. I listen carefully. The line is filled only by the man's voice, so he is in a closed, reserved room.

"I'm listening to you," I point out.

- I'm Daniel Campbell's son, from his first marriage, the one he preferred to pretend doesn't exist – he starts – He was in Italy to visit me, you know? He went to meet his only grandson, my son.

“Congratulations,” I say.

The fact that I executed Daniel a few months ago doesn't change the fact that I'm glad he got to meet his grandson.

- Don't congratulate me. Not yet – the man asks, followed by a bitter chuckle – Daniel was paying for my son's leukemia treatment, and when he died my brother refused to continue paying – he stops, assuring himself I'm following – I didn't have a lot of money, so… well, my son died a few weeks later.

I remain silent. I understand the outrage, but honestly, I don't understand the reason for the call. Did I by any chance kill your son? Did I implant cancer cells in your child?

"You took everything from me," he says, so softly that I suspect he's not talking to me. “And I'm not hiding my identity. I'm Valentino Campbell. For so many years, Daniel was everything to me, and you killed him like he was nothing.” His voice rises.

- It wasn't personal – I assure you.

- For my brother, it was personal. But I took care of it too.

Christian Campbell.

I already knew that this little piece of human being would be killed at the first opportunity. Stupidity and greed do not coexist. However, knowing that he was killed by his own brother takes the game to the next level. It's even more exciting to follow the unfolding of the soap opera.

- If you took care of it, why are you bothering me? – I know the answer, but I want to have the pleasure of hearing it.

Valentine smiles.

- I looked at you, you know? I have watched your steps. You were so miserable it wasn't worth killing yourself. It wouldn't be revenge if it didn't hurt you like it hurts me – he stops, sighing with obvious satisfaction – But now I know it exists.

I look around the room again. My Donneli is sleeping. And then a quick thought crosses my mind. Angelique didn't wake up to take a shower, but the towel was wet when I got out of the shower.

I don't know how or when, but Valentino was there. He knew that nothing goes unnoticed for me.

- What makes you think she's important to me? I ask.

In response, I hear another chuckle, and then Valentino ends the call.

Bastard.

Excellent. Before, it was just motivation for a little prank. Now Valentino has made things too personal. I take advantage of the cell phone in hand to call Yolanda. There's only one place in all of New York that I control: the Bronx.

- Need me so soon? - she answers.

- Where are you?

- At home – this time, his answer is serious. Yolanda doesn't play when she can't.

- I need a fully secure and guarded house.

- Mine - she said - All my men are here.

- I'll be there in twenty minutes – that said, I hang up.

Not that I'm running away. On the contrary, I want Valentino to find me exactly where he wants. However, Angelic is out of the question. I go to great lengths to keep him away from that part of my life.

I put my cell phone in my pocket and walk into the bedroom. I could say that I have a brief heart attack when I fall on the empty bed. However, I find Angelique in the bathroom, turning the knob to fill the tub. I walk to the bathroom door.

- Get ready to spend a few days away - I inform.

"Hello to you too," she said without turning to me.

tomboy.

- Angelique... - I growl.

- I'm going to get ready – she turns to me – But why?

This is the moment I spent most of the morning looking forward to. Big blue eyes fixed on mine. Angelic is effortlessly beautiful, but other than that, she's confident. She knows she is the most attractive creature my eyes have ever met.

- I'll explain to you on the way.

I walk towards the exit of the room, and, at this moment, Angélique says:

- Thank you for the flowers.

I stop halfway. My goals for today didn't involve running away from my own apartment. I was the hunter, not the prey. I turn to her, remembering why I'm slowly panicking. I come back to Angelic, then take his face in my hands.

She is beautiful this morning. This ridiculous, scientifically inexplicable feeling comes back to me, because she's naked in the middle of my bathroom, and I still want her out of the apartment, because she's not safe enough.

I lean my forehead against yours. She's been a headache most of the time, however, I handle her petulance better than her lack of petulance. It's okay for Angelic to throw all my clothes into bags, as long as they stay safe in my line of sight.

- Everything is fine? - she asks.

- Will stay.

ANGELIC...

A big wheel. Right now, I feel like I'm on a big wheel.

I experienced in five months what I had never experienced in twenty years. It was good, it was an adventure. However, I can't deny that it was also terrifying.

Aaron shakes my hand and leads me to an iron door. We are at the end of the Bronx, in the most isolated part of the neighborhood. He taps the back of his fingers against the door.

- What's new? I ask in a whisper.

- You weren't quite sure.

I look around me at one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the country.

Am I safer here?

- Because? – I ask.

My question dies between us, because soon after, the door begins to lift. I approach LeBlanc, perhaps out of a ridiculous instinct that tells me I'm safer with him.

A man appears on the other side. Nothing to worry about so far, but then I notice the gun in his hands. I clearly don't understand handguns, but the size of this particular one tells me it can do a lot of damage. The man and LeBlanc exchange a wave, then the former makes room for us.

Aaron pulls me into the house. My curious eyes look around the garage, finding three cars lined up, all of which seem more expensive than the standard of living in the Bronx allows.

He runs up the stairs, pulling me close. The man who opened the door remains in the same place, acting as a kind of guardian. At this point, I'm starting to worry. Why do we need it now if we didn't need it then? What changed?

At the bottom of the stairs, LeBlanc opens the door, and we find a room full of people waiting for us. Armed people, by the way. The room is a large room, with windows and curtains closed and lights on, which is odd for the time of day. I feel all the curious eyes on me, and it makes my skin tingle.

And among the men, a woman arises. She's dark and petite, but looks as dangerous as any of the men. And, if I remember correctly, it was the woman who was with LeBlanc at the warehouse, the same one I had a gun on.

"I did what I could," she said.

- Thank you, Yolanda – LeBlanc keeps me behind her, however, Yolanda's eyes reach me.

- Maybe the Bronx isn't the safest place. Two cars exploded during yesterday's race – she informs.

- Do you have any suspicions?