Pic: Werkstatt-Muenchen
* Music during reading (to feel better the atmosphere of this chapter I recommend this song in the background)
When I get into the living room without understanding what was happening, a big Asian-looking man approached me and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the sofa where Alex was already sitting. He threw me on it, yelling to sit up. I saw how an already known to me male figure got up to reproach, but the man stopped him by pointing a gun at the head. Alex sat back down and grabbed my hand, I saw blood on his face, but his look was telling me ‘‘don’t worry, everything is going to be fine.’’
It felt like time was passing in slow motion when my eyes were observing an already familiar to me room. A bunch of things was scattered on the floor; It seemed like the bandits were looking for something, but they still could not find it. I have count four tall, burly men standing in front of us, another one sitting in an armchair, and the last one was taking out from an elegant wooden box a circle bottle of whiskey, he looked like feeling home. When something so unexpected and shocking happens to you that you can’t understand if it is true or not, your mind ceases to perceive it as reality.
‘‘When something so unexpected and shocking happens to you that you can’t understand if it is true or not, your mind ceases to perceive it as reality.’’
‘‘Glenmorangie Pride, 1981. An exceptional single malt Scotch whiskey that has been in the barrel for almost 30 years before being bottled in 2010 and opened by me in your wonderful presence,’’ said a short man with an Asian accent, dressed in a black suit and sunglasses. ‘‘You don’t mind, do you?’’ He asked Alex opening the bottle that was more like a huge flask of a good oriental perfume.‘‘I am a big fan of whiskey and this meeting deserves a toast with a first-class drink.’’
Alex nodded while one of the standing strangers kept pointing the gun at him. The guy, who looked like the leader of the group, snapped his fingers and said something to one of his men, who left and came back in a minute with a couple of glasses with ice. The boss poured the Glenmorangie, and before savouring it, he continued his monologue smelling the drink.
‘‘I can smell poached pears, baked pineapple sponge, demerara sugar, nutmeg and anise,’’ he laughed, ‘‘I’m kidding, I just read it on the website. I am a connoisseur, but not that much,’’ he took a sip, to the sound of the laughter of his loyal followers who appreciated his joke, ‘‘but yes, I can notice a sweet taste similar to the lemon cake with a touch of vanilla,’’ he finished, putting the glass on the table and offering a drink to Alex and me.
‘‘No, thank you. I don’t drink whiskey,’’ I said, as usual, immediately regretting it, returning to a reality in which I was not in a nightclub, where someone was trying to flirt with me, but at home with the Asian mafia. When we hear the same question over and over again, we get used to giving the same answer that we already know by heart.
‘‘When we hear the same question over and over again, we get used to giving the same answer that we already know by heart.’’
‘‘It’s OK. I understand, whiskey is a drink for real men. Right?’’ Asked the Asian, turning to Alex while he accepted his invitation. ‘‘Oh, now I can tell you!’’ He exclaimed. ‘‘Raisins and toasted almonds, the aftertaste! Can you feel it? Fantastic.’’ He shouted eccentrically while his team remained motionless, as if under the influence of a tranquillizer. ‘‘PRIDE,’’ he read the name of the edition engraved on the bottle. ‘‘Tell me, what are you most proud of?’’
Alex took a sip without answering him. His gaze was lost, I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was afraid that he would do something foolish because of his impulsive nature, lethal foolishness because the madman Asian would not think twice before shooting us. I touched his knee and with my eyes, I tried to convey strength, courage, but above all sanity. During the craziest situations, the best thing is to stay sane.
‘‘During the craziest situations, the best thing is to stay sane.’’
‘‘Of her,’’ he replied, looking at me.
‘‘So you don’t want anything bad happens to her?’’ The madman sat next to me and caressed my face, smiling.
The silver-rimmed aviator sunglasses signed by German brand Werkstatt-Muenchen hid his eyes, but for some reason, I knew they were full of haughtiness and arrogance.
‘‘Don’t touch her, she doesn’t know anything!’’ Alex shouted, trying to get up, but the gun at his temple stopped him again.
‘‘You’re right, but you know too much, and you will have to tell us by hook or by crook, and my patience is running out.’’
I still did not understand what was happening. What was so important that Alex knew that the Chinese mafia came here?! I knew that the head of the gang was not joking, his sporadic change of mood, typical of a schizophrenic, confirmed that he was capable of exploding at any moment. But what could I do? I had to think and do it fast. When it comes to a crucial decision, the first thing you have to listen to is your intuition, it knows the right answer before your brain or even your heart.
‘‘When it comes to a crucial decision, the first thing you have to listen to is your intuition, it knows the right answer before your brain or even your heart.’’
‘‘I have to go to the bathroom,’’ was the first thing that crossed my mind. Of course, I had no idea what I was going to do.
The group leader made a hand signal for one of his men to accompany me. I had about five minutes to come up with whatever to somehow help this situation.
‘‘What time is it?’’ Alex took my hand once I got up from the couch. His gaze was trying to tell me something beyond his words, but at that moment I couldn’t understand what.
‘‘His gaze was trying to tell me something beyond his words, but at that moment I couldn’t understand what.’’
I had three options: The bathroom which was near to the entrance door that still half-opened, the one close to the living room which had a window to escape or the last in our bedroom, which had nothing special to help us, but for some reason, my intuition was telling me to choose the last option... and I listened to it.
Once there, I tried to understand what Alex meant. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a huge reflection of the wall clock. Wait … what is a clock doing in the bathroom? I have never thought about it, but now I have realized that there is an explanation for all this and a close connection with what was happening at this moment.
It wasn’t a one-piece object, but one of those modern designs with numbers scattered across the wall. I started to look quickly behind each one, trying to find something, watching the seconds tick by, and knowing that this run was not working in my favour. I got on a stool to check the last three numbers and saw that above the «9» something that did not belong to that design was sticking out.
* Enjoy responsible consumption. +18
TOPICS: ONLINE NOVEL FREE – ONLINE NOVEL 2020 – ROMANCE ONLINE – GLENMORANGIE PRIDE 1981 – WHISKY PREMIUM – LUXURY SUNGLASSES MEN – MEN SUNGLASSES WERKSTATT-MUENCHEN
TINA KEVICH 