Chapter 18: 1-0

                                    

                                          
T.S

Thomas lit an umpteenth cigarette.

His addiction to alcohol and cigarettes had grown so much in the past five months that he didn't even notice it anymore. He had fallen back into the same pattern as when Grace had left him two years earlier. He had sworn that he would never be in that state again because of a woman. Simply because he was convinced that he would never love again. And his many conquests had proved him right. But Valentina was different. Different from everything he had known before. No woman had ever dared to talk to him, to look at him or to act with him as she does. Not even Grace.

She was perfect, both physically and mentally. Even more beautiful than Grace was.

 She was like him.

That's why he was one hundred percent comfortable when he was with her, completely himself.
It was like that with Grace, but not exactly the same, either. No, she was so fragile that he was afraid that she would fall into pieces anytime or that at the sight of his many faults and atrocious acts that he committed, she could take fear. Whereas with Valentina, he he knew he would never be judged. How could dare to judge him a woman who had committed many acts as much or even more abominable? A woman who, since she was a child, lived on money of, drugs, death and guns.

He didn't want to admit it, but he loved her like he had never loved before. With her, he was better, almost well. He loved her even more than he had loved his late wife.

And he hated himself for thinking that. God, he hated himself.

But that's how it was.

The tension was palpable. Valentina was grateful that her associate was not aware of her marital status.

- Well, we will not spend the day. Said Thomas with his eternal cigarette at the corner of his lips.

- well. Answered the old man, taking out a paper from his expensive coat. He handed it to Valentina.

- This is not what we discussed on the phone. Said this one after a short reading of the contract.

- Certainly. But my terms have changed since the last time. I want 70 percent. The man dared to say.

- I see that. But you see, our terms have changed too. We want 85 percent now! Thomas said, spitting his smoke in the man's face nonchalantly.

V.L

But what the bloody hell does he thinks he's doing? Valentina asked herself. It was more than outrageous to ask for so much. Especially when the base agreement was 50/50.
She was disconcerted, but didn't show it.

- It's pure madness. Offended this one.

- Are you aware of how many heroin suppliers there are in Europe who would be more than happy to triple their income, even if they only got 15 percent? And I'm sure you know that if we wanted a hundred percent of the revenue, we would have gotten it, because that's how it is. The big ones screw the little ones. And in this situation, you're the small guy. So, what is pure madness, Mr. Fernandez, is that you don't realize how lucky you are. Concluded Thomas, of marble.

His interlocutor, it, had decomposed a little more with each word that Thomas had pronounced.

- ok. Go for 85/15. Said weakly, the sixty-year-old, after a few seconds of reflection.

Valentina would never have said it out loud, but she herself had been hanging on his every word. It was pure genius.

When they left the warehouse and throughout the journey, Valentina did not utter a word. She knew she had lost, and it was driving her crazy, almost sick. She had to find a way to win the next round and win big.

Thursday, February 16, 1923, 7 p.m., Sicily

Valentina was pacing in her elaborately decorated room. When the telephone rang, she was almost startled, so immersed was she in her thoughts.
She picked it up automatically and was delighted to hear Polly's voice.

- How are you?began the old woman.

- mixed. And you? Valentina continued, now sitting on her bed.

- I am perfectly well. Why are your emotions mixed?

- Well, you see, someone showed up at my house last night. And I wouldn't have made a big deal of it if that someone turned out not to be our dearest Thomas!

Polly was silent for the next few seconds after this information. Something was wrong. Valentina knew it, she felt it. Polly knew something, about Thomas, certainly.

- I must leave you, I have to go. I kiss you goodbye. Said Polly in a hurry.

- Well, I also kiss you goodbye.

And while Valentina thought that this call would end on these words, Polly pronounced before hanging up, a sentence that had strangely upset her. "Be careful" were the last words that the fifty-year-old had pronounced that evening. Polly had psychic powers. Everyone knew it. Had she seen something, something that needed Valentina's full attention? Was it about the baby? Or about Thomas? A thousand questions popped into the pretty blonde's head that only the knocking on her door could bring out of her thoughts.

- Dinner is ready, Miss.

- I arrive at once. Said Valentina while getting up.

She had to keep a cool head, at all costs. Even if the warnings of Polly trotted incessantly in her head.

She went down the big marble stairs and went to the dining room. On the table was a sumptuous meal. Thomas was already there, as charismatic as ever. The candlelight alone made him look... sublime. Enough for Valentina to feel a shiver down her spine. 

she sat down without saying a word. 


to be continued...