Nele Neuhaus - Swimming with Sharks

Alex walked barefoot into the living room and pressed the light switch as she passed it. She froze and nearly dropped the bottle of milk in shock. Sergio was sitting on the couch.

“Jesus!” she exclaimed. “Why did you scare me like that? Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

“Hello, cara .” He smiled, his white teeth flashing in his dark face. “I’ve been waiting for you for three hours. Your cell phone was turned off.”

“Did we have a date?” Alex put the milk bottle on the floor and noticed that she was trembling. This was the first time she had seen him since that terrible evening at his house. Although she was horrified by him now that she knew the truth, she had to keep her composure.

“You haven’t called me since you got back from Asia, and I was simply longing for you. How are you?”

“Good.” She remained standing next to the light switch, watching him. “And how are you?”

“Excellent.”

“It’s unbelievable what they write in the newspapers,” she said coolly.

“Newspaper scribbling,” Sergio said and laughed. “I’ve never cared about that.”

“They say that you’re somehow connected with the murder of this real-estate guy.” Alex was trembling inside. She could hardly resist the urge to throw everything she had found out about him into his face.

“I’m sure that they’d love to put the blame on me.”

Sergio crossed his legs and grinned. Although he’d never admit it, this vicious press campaign was really getting to him. Being defenseless made him angry. And on top of that, he could hardly endure how self-righteous Mayor Kostidis appeared on television. On Monday, the IRS criminal tax investigation unit showed up once again at Ficchiavelli and turned the entire place upside down. Massimo had attacked one of the agents in one of his temper tantrums. That had cost Sergio endless phone calls with all kinds of influential people on his bribery payroll to keep this situation from leaking to the press. He also realized that some of his “friends” were avoiding him, which was a clear indication that Kostidis’s smear campaign was having an impact. There were problems in every direction, and he also couldn’t reach Alex. Sergio was tense beyond all measure and irritated. He wanted to have sex with Alex and release the pressure.

“This bastard Kostidis has been leading a personal crusade against me for the past fifteen years,” he continued. “He’s obsessed with the idea of locking me up behind bars. During his time as the US attorney, he tried everything in his power to denounce me. It wasn’t enough for him to drag New York’s entire underworld and half of Wall Street into court—he wants me too.”

He stood up without taking his eyes off of Alex. At first glance, he seemed as confident and relaxed as usual, but his eyebrows were tensely furrowed.

“He’s tried everything already: He accused me of all kinds of Mafia activities, bribery, extortion. He tried to frame me with fraud and union manipulation. All to no avail. I don’t know how many years the US Attorney’s Office spent fabricating accusations. It was all in vain.”

His expression became sinister.

“I pay my taxes, provide work for thousands of people, and carry a great deal of responsibility,” he said, his tone angry, “and then this miserable Greek idiot brings his righteous anger upon anyone with an Italian name, calling me a gangster and Mafioso. He’s already caused me enormous damage with his slander, but I don’t get upset about him anymore. Let him make a fool of himself with his missionary zeal.”

Sergio laughed grimly.

Alex knew that this was anything but ridiculous, yet she secretly admired Sergio’s performance. He withstood her stare without blinking an eye, and if she hadn’t known better, she would have believed him. Don Sergio, she thought, and a shiver ran down her spine.

She had to play along with his game. “Why don’t you defend yourself against these accusations? Why do you let them drag your name through the mud?”

“I don’t need to justify myself over things that I’m not involved with.” He smiled, but his blue eyes were flinty.

“But a tarnished reputation hurts business.”

“That’s nonsense,” Sergio said contemptuously, shaking his head. “The people I do business with aren’t small-minded philistines easily intimidated by sensationalist newspaper articles.”

Alex didn’t say a word.

“What is it, cara ?” He put his hands on her shoulders and gazed intensely into her eyes. “Do you actually believe what they say about me?”

“I wish I could say no,” Alex replied.

He grabbed her wrists.

“Does it really matter to you what’s written in the newspapers?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m as unconcerned with that as you are. I wouldn’t care if you would just be honest with me. But I have a feeling that you’re not.”

Sergio let go of her.

“Why do you want to know things that are none of your business?”

He put his hands in his pockets, and his smile had vanished.

“Do you think that I’m accountable to you just because I have sex with you every once in a while?”

Alex stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve never asked you to explain anything about yourself to me. But you ask me to believe you. The press has been writing and reporting otherwise about you for weeks. Why should I believe you when you don’t trust me?”

“It’s exactly like I’m telling you.”

“Just like in the Bible, right?” Alex laughed and suddenly felt a chill. “True to the words, ‘Blessed are those who haven’t seen and yet have come to believe’!”

Sergio gave her a serious look. His handsomely sculpted face looked like it was chiseled from stone.

“I love you,” he said unexpectedly.

“No, you don’t.” Alex shook her head. “Maybe you desire me, but that’s all.”

She thought about the natural and loving comfort with which Trevor and Madeleine treated each other. Sergio was completely incapable of such affection. She suddenly didn’t want to see him anymore. She was tired and wanted to sleep.

“The past few days have been rough,” she said and turned away. “I’m tired. You should leave now.”

Sergio’s anger, which he had struggled to hold back, flared up. He approached her with three large steps and grabbed her arm harshly.

“Let me go,” Alex said. “I want to go to bed.”

“I do too.” Sergio pulled her toward him and pressed his lower body against hers. “With you.”

“But I don’t want to do this with you.” She pushed her arms against his chest, but he wouldn’t let go of her. He raged with lust. She kicked and punched him in a fit of panic, but any pain that she caused intensified his wild desire. It was a crazy, angry, downright fierce fight, and Alex lost. She endured his brutal passion, her faced turned away. As he climaxed with a muffled panting, she knew that she hated him. Furious, she watched him get up, calmly zip his pants and then straighten up his tie.

“You asshole,” she whispered. “You just raped me!”

Sergio leaned over her and turned her face so that she was forced to look up at him.

“You should remember one thing very precisely, cara mia .” He smiled, but the chill in his eyes was arctic. “I always get what I want.”

Then he walked to the door and disappeared. Alex began to sob. Why hadn’t she listened to all of the warnings, even when she’d sensed deep inside that the terrible rumors were true? She was no longer in control of the situation, and realized she actually never had been. She learned the hard way: Sergio Vitali was not a person to be gotten rid of that easily.