Catching the CEO (The CEO Duet, #2), page 17
All of a sudden, I get this really weird feeling in my stomach, as if I’m being watched. I turn down the volume of my music while I keep running. From the corner of my eye, I see a black van driving right next to me, keeping up with my pace. It’s a Chevy Van. Is Cowboy following me? Are we going to have kidnap sex again? I thought he had to work! That man is unbelievable.
I stop and observe the van, letting Cowboy know I’m on to him. The van parks next to the curb in a spot where you can park temporarily for loading and unloading. I walk up to it, lean against the glass provocatively, and try to see inside. The windows are made of tinted glass and unfortunately don’t not allow me to see anything but my own reflection.
“Come out, Cowboy, I know you’re in there!” I knock on the window and wait a moment, but when there is no reaction, I take a step back. Oh boy.
Suddently I realise that it’s possible Cowboy isn’t in that van at all. I take a couple more steps back, putting more distance between me and the van. The people inside are probably wondering who that weird lady is trying to look inside, but it’s just as weird there is no reaction at all from inside. If it were me behind the wheel and some stranger knocked on my window like that, I would at least roll down the window to ask what they want. But that doesn’t happen, which gives me the creeps.
My phone rings at the exact same moment I decide to turn around and make a run for it. My display says “Cowboy.” I don’t get any time to answer because, all of a sudden, I hear the back doors of the van open and only a second later, two strong arms lift me up from behind and throw me inside. Before I can yell for help, both doors are closed. I’m locked up and staring into the eyes of a complete stranger.
CRISTINA
It’s a wonderful, sunny day. What the heck am I doing here? Playing babysitter for Nina on a Saturday afternoon, following her tracks and making sure she doesn’t get into any trouble. Not my idea of a quiet Saturday, which is exactly what I had been looking forward to. Oh well, who cares? There are worse places to be on a Saturday afternoon, after all. Right now, I’m camped out in my new car, my Aston Martin DB11. One of the most beautiful cars in the world, and also one of the most expensive ones. But I can afford it, because I don’t have any other huge expenses. That’s because, outside of Audi, I don’t have any life at all, so my car is one of the only things left that give me a little pleasure.
My life used to be exciting. With Sebastian, Noa, and Barbara, we were a tight team. Together, we carried out the plans Sebastian came up with, plans that made us filthy rich and saved us from a life of crime. But now, with Nina around, things have become a little boring. And our team? Well, there’s not much left of it at this point. Barbara took an extended leave of absence—who knows why and where to? Noa is in rehab for the zillionth time ... Jesus. We are actually the Motley crew ...
Slowly, I drive circles around the park, keeping an eye on Nina. It’s a big park, so I time it in such a way that I’m parked exactly where she will come out. And she does. I slowly follow her, keeping a good distance so she doesn’t notice.
Suddenly, I see a black van steer in front of me without using its turn signal. What an idiot! I hit the brakes hard to keep from crashing into him! If there is one little scratch on my baby, I will kill that son-of-a-bitch!
Fortunately, I can still see Nina running and everything’s fine. Sebastian’s overprotectiveness is just that—overprotective. I don’t blame him for being so watchful over Nina. It’s not like he doesn’t have a good reason for it. But still, I can’t help thinking he needs to learn how to let things go. I don’t mind playing “Nina babysitting service,” but I would rather be at the nail salon for my weekly manicure.
I continue to follow Nina for a while. I hear the music she‘s listening to through my speakers. Thanks to Noa, I have access to Nina’s Spotify account and can listen along in real time. Oh, how I miss that wild bitch. She’s my BFF, so I have permission to call her bitch. If anyone else tries that, they will have me to deal with. But I’m getting carried away. Basically, this girl knows her stuff when it comes to computers. Her brain is brilliant. What’s left of it, anyway, because I’m afraid that millions of cells did not survive all the partying. Noa’s technical strokes of genius with Spotify are the reason that I can now confirm Nina has a very good taste in music.
With one eye, I admire her daily mix. The other one is focused on the black van that’s still in front of me. Not literally, of course, since a typical person cannot have two eyes looking in different directions. And here I go again. What I mean is, there’s a reason I’m driving slowly, but what’s his? I pull my wheel a little to the left, so I’m able to see past it to check whether he has drivers in front of him that are equally slow, but there’s no one. So, technically, the van has no reason to drive so slowly, which means it’s following her, just like I am. I decide to call Sebastian.
He answers in his usual way. “Talk to me.”
“A black Chevy van is following Nina.”
I see the van has parked and now Nina is pounding the window like a mad woman. I make sure to park alongside the curb, but at a safe distance, so my presence goes unnoticed.
“Sebastian, what reason does Nina have for pounding on that van’s window? Does she know anyone who drives such a van?”
He’s obviously thinking deeply, because it takes a while for him to answer. “She thinks it’s me.”
I wait, hoping he will explain further, but he doesn’t.
“Okay,” I reply slowly, after a minute. That doesn’t make any sense to me, but now’s not the time to demand an explanation. Now is the moment to receive instructions. So, I ask him what he wants me to do. He tells me to keep following her at a distance and do nothing. He’s on his way.
MAGDALENA
Gers’ matte-black Chevy Camaro is cutting its way through the traffic as if it were soft butter. When he presented it to me a couple of years ago, I thought it was so over-the-top. Why would I need such a huge Titanic of a car? I would have been happy with a small Ford because the only thing I usually use a car for is to buy groceries. But now, I’m enjoying it after all. The power of the engine and the speed with which it reacts, gives me a rush no small Ford ever could.
Just like when Corina told me she was coming over to surprise Nina. I think she is a lovely woman, Nina’s grandma. We are only recently back in contact. We call, Skype, and WhatsApp regularly. The more I learn about her, the more I want to know. She is so strong and independent, dresses in the newest fashion, and is also still very physically active. She dates and appears to be active in a lot of fields.
I want that too! I’m stuck in that village, on my own, in that big house, and sometimes it just feels as if I’m waiting for death to come. But I’m not dead yet. I’m healthy and I want to have some fun. When she asked me if I wanted to pick her up from the airport so we could surprise Nina and Gers, I agreed right away.
Now, she’s sitting next to me in Gers’ car, on our way to his apartment in Washington, D.C., and Nina’s pitbull, Gnocchi, is sitting on the back seat. I better make sure Gers doesn’t find out because those long doggie nails on the expensive leather lining will not make him happy at all.
During the drive, we catch each other up. She tells me about the flight and her boyfriend in Holland, named Jeffrey. Apparently, he didn’t like her going on a trip without him, but she had already told him that “this GILF”—her words, not mine—“wanted her freedom.” Her English is quite good, better than my Dutch, I reckon. So, I’m comfortable letting her talk in English.
“Are you gonna put your foot in it, or what?” She shoots me an amused look.
“What do you mean? I’m sticking to the speed limit, aren’t I?”
“Come on, Maggie. The speed limit doesn’t apply to a Chevy Camaro! Hit it!” With her right foot, which is attached to a leg stuck in leather pants, she presses down as if she were the one putting her foot on the gas. With her left hand, she pretends to be steering, while she sticks her elbow out of the window. She looks tough. I want to be tough too.
So, I speed up. The car jumps forward at once. It’s so fast, it startles the both of us.
“Wow, Mad Maggie. I knew you had it in you!” She gives me an approving look. I approve of myself too and can’t help laughing silently. I like it that she calls me Mad Maggie. It sounds adventurous and reckless.
“How old are you, Corina?” I’ve wanted to ask her that question for some time now, but it never came up as a possible subject. But the way she acts, talks, moves ... everything seems to indicate that Nina has a young grandmother.
“I am fifty-five years young!” she announces proudly.
“Wow, really?” I’m not surprised though. She looks young and energetic after all. But, doing the math, she would have had Nina’s mom at a relatively young age ... No, I’m starting to doubt that she’s fifty-five.
“No, hon, of course I’m not really fifty-five. But that’s the age I think best matches my mental state of mind and my physical condition. So, every birthday, I declare myself fifty-five.”
“Oh. Then I want to be fifty-five too.”
“Then you’re now officially fifty-five, Mad Maggie. We are all as young or as old as we want to be.”
We laugh as she turns up the volume and continue on our journey. Corina has an apartment in New York and suggested we go there after we’ve surprised Gers and Nina, to “make the city unsafe.” I would very much like to find out what that means, so I agree. It seems like a wonderful adventure!
We’re a couple of blocks from the apartment and passing a park. We come to a stop at a traffic light when I realize in front of us, but on the other side of the road, is a car that looks exactly like the one Gers drives. It’s a black—of course it is, he only drives black cars—Maserati coupe convertible. Looking carefully, I see Gers behind the wheel.
“Look, Corina, that’s Gers over there!” I point and at the same time, I see his convertible make a couple of weird turns in the middle of the rest of the traffic before he parks recklessly on the curb. Gers’ face is on the edge of a storm. That’s what I call his face when he’s pissed. He always looks so serious, but when his face reaches the edge of a storm, you better run and hide. He can be terrifying. Fortunately, he’s my son and I know that, behind those dominant eyes, is a sweet man, so normally, I’m not affected by it. But looking at him now, it’s clear something is terribly wrong.
“Go after him, Maggie!” Corina demands. When our traffic light turns green, I do just that. Making a U-turn in the middle of the day, with cars that rush past and honk at you, is not something I do daily, but the sudden adrenaline rushing through my veins at the moment gives me the courage to do what I have to do. What’s going on with my boy?
He’s not aware we’ve spotted him. Without opening his door, he jumps out of his car and runs in the direction of a black Chevy Van parked on the curb. He slams both his arms hard against the back doors. Suddenly, we see the two doors open up and two arms pull my Gers inside. Just as sudden as the doors open, they slam shut again and my boy is trapped inside.
“Shit, shit, shit, Maggie. This cannot be good.” My hands on the wheel tremble. I try to remain calm and manage to park the car behind Gers’.
Corina, who seemed so tough a couple of minutes ago, has turned very pale. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, but this doesn’t look good.” Thoughts are racing through my head at top speed. I know Gers has made a lot of enemies, is “the secret collector,” and isn’t popular in the criminal circuit. But I also know, since he’s decided to be with Nina, he’s done his best to leave that life behind him. So, I cannot imagine this is a criminal transaction gone wrong. But if it’s not that, then what is it? A revenge mission?
All of a sudden, I know what I have to do. I wasn’t able to protect him when he was bullied all those years ago. But now I can. Now, I will do what I failed to do back then. I have my good friend in the trunk of my car. He is going to meet some new people.
NINA
“Hello, Nina. I’m your Uncle Matteo.” A heavy, hoarse voice carries those words.
My Uncle Matteo? My Uncle Matteo? Oh my God, this is my Uncle Matteo! My father’s brother. The man who is the right hand in the criminal business of my grandfather in Italy. The man who didn’t want my parents and me to leave Italy fifteen years ago, who wanted to use my father’s business for money laundering. The man Cowboy had to point a gun at to convince him to leave us alone. And he just practically kidnapped me!
Okay, okay, maybe kidnapping is a bit of an exaggeration. But it did scare the crap out of me, being grabbed and pulled into the van like that. Now that I’ve calmed down, I think that action was highly unnecessary. He could have come to visit without scaring me this way. Jesus. Those mobsters really don’t know how to behave!
Now I see that he’s laughing at me. When he laughs, his face looks creepy. What’s so funny? He stops laughing quite suddenly and starts talking, but I interrupt him—can this man get any creepier? He needs to get his act together.
“Jesus! Are you trying to scare me? Take it easy, will you? Take off that disturbing mask that you have for a face and tell me what the meaning of all of this is, Matteo.” Switching to English isn’t that easy when you’re scared out of your mind!
“Sorry, cara mia. You are right about my face. Unfortunately, I was born with it and there is not really much I can do about it.” Suddenly, his face is a lot less creepy. He looks apologetic and a little sad. Maybe I’ve been a bit too hard on him.
“Okay, but you have to promise me that you will never laugh again in my presence.”
“Accordo,” he agrees in Italian. I look at him and cannot believe we’re related. My father is dark while he’s light. My father was broad-shouldered and he’s scrawny. At first sight, I don’t see much resemblance. When I look very closely, I do see something in his glance that reminds me of my father.
“Now, explain to me what you’re doing here, Matteo, because I haven’t seen you in fifteen years. I can’t even remember you. So, why did you decide to contact me? And why the hell in such a strange way, pulling me into a black van like this!”
“I want to protect you, cara mia.” He looks at me intensely. His voice is heavy and doesn’t match his appearance. That fact gives his words a certain power, making me believe him right away.
“Protect me from whom? Am I in danger?”
“Yes, you are. Not in a physical way, but in a proverbial way.”
“What? What does that mean? How can I be in danger in a proverbial way, Matteo?”
“I mean that your heart is in danger.”
“Does someone want me dead? Shoot me in my heart or something? Is that the danger you mean?” Is his English really this bad or am I missing something?
“No, cara mia. Your heart is in danger. Your relationship with Sebastian Strong is dangerous for your heart. He is going to hurt you because he has secrets. Things you are not aware of. He is not the man you think he is.”
Before I get the chance to ask what secrets he’s talking about, someone starts pounding on the back doors of the van. I hear Cowboy demand in a pissed tone to open the doors.
Chocolate with apple sauce ... am I glad my Cowboy is here. But how did he know I was here? Oh right, the tracker app! I shouldn’t even be surprised my superhero control freak has a satellite pointed at me twenty-fours hours a day, because that would be the only credible way to explain his omniscience of all things Nina.
Matteo curses and runs his fingers through his hair, clearly frustrated.
“Eh ... hello? Are you going to open the doors, or what?” I ask him, annoyed.
In an equally annoyed way, Matteo opens the doors of the van, so fast Cowboy is startled for a moment. Then Matteo pulls him inside and closes the doors behind him. This action is so smooth, you’d think it’s routine for him.
Cowboy sees me and sits next to me on the sideway chairs, then hugs me. He strokes the sweaty hair out of my face and covers my face with little kisses.
“Hey, Cowboy, good to see you. You remember Matteo, right?” I point at my uncle, who’s returned to his seat across from us and is studying us impatiently.
Cowboy slowly turns away from me and while he does this, I see his jaw tighten. His nostrils start flaring and it seems as though his look alone could make Matteo drop dead on the spot.
In an icy soft tone, he starts talking to Matteo. “You must have a death wish.” His statement takes my breath away. Matteo stares back at him and says nothing. Cowboy continues. “It’s very obvious that you do, because if you didn’t, you would have kept your hands off of Nina.”
“She has a right to know, Gers.” The fact that my uncle knows Sebastian’s real name is ... astonishing and incredible. Just like this whole bizarre experience.
“She knows everything she needs to know. There is nothing you could tell her that would drive us apart. Nothing. This pathetic charade is just that—pathetic.”
“I want to protect Nina, that’s all.”
“This has nothing to do with protection, you just want to get back at me. Get back at me for something I did fifteen years ago, at the request of your brother, Francesco. Something I would do again if necessary.”
I wish I could hit pause now and rewind, because I don’t understand a thing. My brain is quickly trying to analyze what is going on here. Francesco is my other uncle, my dad’s other brother. The brother who moved from Italy to America and built his mafia empire here. Francesco is also the man who picked Cowboy off the streets when he was roaming around, after he had run away from home.
