Chapter 93


    His friends


    I was still extremely pissed at Jack and Chris for treating me this way, but apparently, my ring daggers


    at them only brought them more amusement. Luckily, the tape Chris used wasn’t too strong, and I finally


    managed to glue off the piece that was gagging me.


    “Seriously guys?!” I yelled. “You could have told me what you were nning, not kidnap me!”


    Chris, who was driving the car, snorted. “Really? Do you want us to believe that you would willingly leave


    your husband even if you haven’t left the clinic for thest eight days?”


    I wanted to protest, but when I opened my mouth I realized that there was no way I would have left Aren.


    I already felt anxious, as I had left his room nearly ten minutes ago, wondering if he had started to wake


    up while I was away from him.


    “I don’t want him to see that I’m not there when he wakes up…” I mumbled.


    Jack, who was sitting in the passenger’s front seat, turned around and looked at me with a frown. “Cora,


    you must be aware that this is insane. He would never have med you for going away, sleeping,


    resting… or drinking with us.”


    “Although I wouldn’t be so sure about thatst one,” Chris added, smirking.


    I knew they were right, but somehow inside my stupid mind, I felt guilty that I was even considering


    having momentary fun while he was unconscious. Yet then I reminded myself that I used to think the


    same way when my Grandma fell into aa. I used to sleep by her bed as well. Then I spent hours


    talking to her every day, but after a while, I had to move on and live my life just to keep my sanity. With


    Aren, I was doing the exact opposite- I was losing my mind and drowning in my own restlessness.


    Perhaps I really needed to drink…


    “Where are we going?” I asked, watching us pass the Brooklyn Bridge. “We’re going to my ce,” Chris


    replied, taking a turn on Charles Street and heading toward the Hudson River.


    That made me realize that I knew nothing about Chris, except for the fact that he was a military


    specialist. Since I met him, I only saw him wearingbat pants and a T-shirt, and the only thing that


    changed today was the fact that he wore jeans instead of thosebat pants… which didn’t bring me


    any closer to finding out anything more about him. I knew that Aren trusted him, and that made me trust


    him as well, but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to punch him for using such methods on me.


    Once we’d arrived at the spot, I finally got untied. As I got out of the car, I realized that we had stopped in


    front of one of the fancy apartment buildings. That only made me raise my eyebrows, wondering if it truly


    was the ce Chris lived. Five minutester, it turned out that not only did he live there, but he owned


    the entire building. He inhabited the top-floor apartment, which looked almost as expensive as Aren’s


    penthouse. I stood on the threshold with my mouth wide open, taking in the astonishing space of the


    cream-white hall, magnified by the row of wall-size windows.


    “Surprised?” Chris chuckled, watching my growing confusion. “Get yourselffortable on the sofas


    near the balcony. Food and drinks areing in just a moment,” he said, pointing at


    the spot deeper in the hall.


    Jack grabbed my hand and pulled me into the apartment. “Come on, Cora!” Heughed.


    I could see that he felt quitefortable in Chris’s apartment, almost as if he lived there as well. He led


    me to one of the cream sofas standing at the corner of the hall that opened to a big kitchen. He sat on


    the other sofa in front of mine. My eyes directed at the kitchen quickly widened in shock again as I saw


    Chris, putting on a chef’s apron and taking out food from the fridge.


    Jack noticed my surprise and quickly exined, “Chris is half-Scottish and half-Italian. His father was a


    soldier, so I guess that his fighting abilities are from him, but his Italian mother taught him how to cook,


    and sometimes I wonder if he wouldn’t be more sessful as a chef of his own restaurant.”


    My eyes narrowed, watching Chris as he chopped the onion at an incredible speed and then threw it into


    a frying pan. The mouthwatering smell of food instantly reminded me of how empty my stomach was. I


    bet that I must have resembled a lost puppy as I watched him finally put the pasta on the tes. I


    guessed that they enjoyed watching me eat a bit too much. The wide grins on their faces couldn’t be a


    more obvious sign that they were self-satisfied.


    “It tastes better with the wine.” Chris poured me a ss of Sauvignon nc, observing in amusement


    how I wolfed the pasta down.


    Two minutester, my te was empty, and he and Jack were looking at me, barely stifling theirughter.


    I could remember thest time I enjoyed eating that much. I hardly recalled what I had been eating from


    the moment Aren fell into aa, but I would certainly remember Chris’s dish.


    “Thank you…” I mumbled hesitantly, still pissed about the fact that they took me from the hospital by


    force and reluctant to admit that they did something good. “You’re wee,” Chris said, pouring me


    more wine. I was more than eager to shift the attention away from me and my condition and finally


    asked, “So Chris… what is it that you do for a living exactly? Are you from a wealthy family or


    something?” “A wealthy family?! No chance!” Chris burst intoughter. “I can afford all of this thanks to


    Aren,” he said, shrugging. My eyes widened in surprise even more. “H-he pays you that well for whatever


    it is that you do for him?”


    “No,” Jack interjected, “Chris is just the luckiest son of a bitch on the when ites to money and


    investment.” He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at Chris.


    Chris’s lips formed a smug grin. “What can I say? I’m good at cards. I won a lot of money, ying on my


    university’s campus, and then at the casino. I was nning to spend that money on some useless things,


    but then I got a new roommate, a smart guy who was nning to start his own business. I ended up


    investing all of my money in him.. And now, I am a wealthy man who owns fifteen percent of LanConTEent bel0ngs to N?v(e)lD/rama(.)Org .


    Diamond Corporation.” My jaw literally dropped. Once I recovered from the shock, I smiled nervously.


    “I’m sorry… I


    assumed that you are working for Aren…” “Oh, but I do!” Chris chuckled. “I handle every unpredictable


    situation that requires using force. Aren needed to have a little army of his own, and he made me in


    charge of this army… although he is always its leading general.”


    My heart started to pound. There were so many things that I still didn’t know about Aren. I wished to


    know more… That made me more curious about Aren’s friendship with Jack Collins.


    “What about you, Jack? Do you also have your shares of Lan Diamond Corporation?” I smirked, turning


    my eyes on him.


    Jack sighed, painting a wry smile on his face. “I wish I had… when I met Aren and Chris, the Lan


    Diamond Corporation was already doing great on the market. I could never afford to buy those shares


    with my agent’s sry.” “So how did you guys meet?” I leaned forward on the table, excitedly blinking my


    eyes. Jack scratched his head,ughing awkwardly. “Well… I shot Chris in the leg and almost shot


    Aren…”


    “What?!” I straightened up, my eyes shifting from Jack to Chris, trying to figure out whether he was


    joking. Chris nodded. “Yup.” He pulled his pants up above half of his calves. “I still have a scar right


    there.”


    “How did that happen?!” I eximed, thinking that I was the only one in the room who didn’t find that fact


    amusing.


    Jack chuckled. “Well, long story short, the FBI was preparing an ambush on illegal weapon dealers, and


    it turned out that those guys got under Aren’s skin. The issue was that our interviewer initially identified


    Aren, Chris, and their men as being part of those dealers, and they were armed, and I—”


    “We had sleep darts while Jack was shooting bullets,” Chris interjected. “The whole action took ce at


    the old, abandoned factory, and while we were on the ground level, Jack hid on the roof, making us look


    like shooting ducks. After I got shot, Aren got furious. He flew up the stairs faster than a bolt of lightning


    and lurched at Jack, pinning him to the floor before he could even find the trigger,” he said with a


    mischievous grin. Jack gave him a wry smile and continued the story, “We let me go when he noticed


    that I was an FBI agent. We sort it all out, and every time we’re engaging in something together, he


    teasingly reminds me that we only use sleep darts, as if he was afraid that I would identally shoot


    someone.” He wrinkled his nose as he mentioned it, but then quickly smirked. “Anyway, that’s how we


    became friends.”


    Iughed awkwardly, staring at the two men sitting in front of me before I turned my eyes to my empty


    ss. “I think I need more alcohol…”