Semua Bab SOLD TO THE CEO: Bab 41 - Bab 50

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

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

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

ANGELIC...Marcos holds the back door of the Rolls Royce open so I can enter. This is the first time in two days that I have appeared in public with a scarf over my face. I leave the church and walk with big strides towards the car. As soon as I get in, Peter, the driver, accelerates.Even if I go home, my thoughts remain in this confessional. I left the guilt there, but it brought another feeling with me. Curiosity. It wasn't Father Bee, or anyone else who lives in the diocese. I know them all.I lean my head against the glass and close my eyes. I have to do my penance so that everything goes well. I felt guilty because, considering everything that had happened that night, the only thing that stuck in my mind permanently was Bruce.I take the rosary out of my robe and hold it. Maybe if I use it often enough, I can get rid of the sin I've had for two days.We got back in no time. The church is really close. Peter parks under the marquee, Marcos opens my door and I walk out, heading fo

ANGELIC...The noise in the garden wakes me up. The employees organize the outdoor space after yesterday's party. I put the pillow over my head and try to go back to sleep, but it's impossible. I'm giving up.Despite myself, I get out of bed and put on my bathrobe over my nightgown. My head hurts, partly because I haven't slept enough, but I can't deny that last night I was tossing and turning in my bed, unable to sleep, thinking about my conversation with Bruce .I knew the moment I entered the confessional that Father Bee was not on the other side of the screen. Padre's breathing is smooth and heavy, with short spaces between exhalations. And yet I confessed. I desperately wanted to go and confess to someone who wouldn't tell my father about my sins later.After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I go down to the first floor. The table is already set with breakfast, but Margot and Elliot still haven't come down. I zip up my bathrobe and sit down on the chair to the left of the h