NIKOLAI
¿El juego está empezando otra vez?
Sweden, Stockholm
Six years later...
I can still taste victory like it was yesterday — it's inexplicable how triumph had flavor on my palate, how I took down that idiot Egil and that stupid Vanessa. They were very clever to think I wouldn't come after them if they betrayed me.
That day, I didn't board the damn jet — at least, not the one the attack took. I already knew their moves. I saw my chance to fake my death; I knew my two daughters would seek revenge, and indeed, they lived up to my expectations. It was a shame that both were so narcissistic, so egocentric, that they fell together into the abyss, 'The Ziegler surname was what finished them off.'
My new life began in Russia. I invested the little I had from a ghost company there, regaining my status. Without enemies, the path was easier. It didn't take long for me to become someone important again, to have my life back, but this time known as Nikolai Kaelthorn. Gregorio Ibagon had died, after all.
I had come to Sweden to close some deals and make concessions to form alliances with the new mafia that rules this country.
—How much longer until we arrive? —I ask my driver.
—Half an hour at most, Mr. Kaelthorn.
Apparently, one thing that never changes is having to wait to reach the hotel and finally rest. I sigh, resigned. But the noise of two cars crashing grabs my attention. I look back and indeed there are three vans, with machine guns in their compartments, starting to fire at the other cars escorting me.
—What the hell!? —I shout— Step on it, idiot!
The guy does as I order, while I keep watching how this ends up turning into a two-car chase. One of the vans advances on the third one beside me. I see how the guards get out to shoot, but it's useless since these attackers have bigger guns, ending their lives in no time. The car flies into the air, making the guy next to me dodge so we're not hit.
My pulse is racing a thousand beats per minute. I still don't know how I'm breathing. I've never witnessed a scene like this; I didn't know what to think or who to believe was behind it.
The three vans come out victorious, then block our path so we have no choice but to stop. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears whispering my end. About five men, faces covered and armed, get out of the vehicles and approach us, surrounding us even more.
—What do we do, sir? —asks this scum.
—Nothing, idiot, nothing —I say, since trying anything would be suicide.
One of them approaches to open the door where I'm sitting, but since it won't open, I shoot right at the handle where the lock is. It loosens immediately. The man grabs it by the edge and opens it fully. I step aside while he looks at me, and I look at him — though he's pointing a gun at me.
—Get out of the fucking car, hands up —he orders, sending chills down my spine— Get out, damn it! —he yells.
'I swear whoever's behind this is going to pay dearly.' I get out exactly as he ordered, not stopping looking at him and he at me. I hear another of the men tell the driver to get out, then I hear a shot that startles me a bit.
—Kneel.
I do, but not before listening closely to the corpse beside me, 'The poor man wasn't even involved.' One of them approaches, grabs my arms and ties them up. I just stare at the one in front of me with hatred until they cover me with a sack and everything goes black around me.
I feel two of them grab me to get me into the car, then take seats beside me, start the engine, and drive off.
I thought all my accounts were settled; I owed nothing to anyone, no debts to settle. But in this world, everything is unpredictable. You'll always have an enemy. My mistake, my big mistake, was trusting too much, thinking nothing would happen to me here.
Minutes passed that felt like eternal hours to me, increasing my fury, throwing me off balance. I was starting to go crazy from not knowing what awaited me.
Until everything stopped — we were no longer moving. The sound of doors confirmed it, then one of the men grabbed me to get me down. I did. The ground wasn't rocky or grassy; I could say we were on someone's property.
Soon enough, I walked to the place they wanted me to reach.
—Sit down —the same man who spoke earlier ordered. When I didn't move, he pushed me down.
I thought I was going to fall flat on my ass, but I didn't. I sat down as they supposedly felt my touch or identified my hearing. I felt hands grab my lower limbs and tie them to the chair, then do the same with my upper limbs. One of them took off the sack.
Finally, I could take a look at the place. By the decor, I realized I was in the living room of a mansion, very classy, yet modern at the same time.
A black-haired boy with blue eyes, very young, made his way through those present. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. Next to him was a miserable rat I knew very well — how could I not? He worked for me for years. Steven was there with such a neutral expression; I still can't explain how he got here. I hold back my fury so as not to show how surprised I was by this.
—Mr. Nikolai Kaelthorn or should I say... Gregorio Ibagon —he announces. My body tenses completely at hearing my old identity. He just smiles at my reaction — I hope my men have treated you wonderfully.
—If by "wonderfully" you mean killing mine... then yes, it was "wonderful" —I don't hide my displeasure.
—I'm glad to hear that. Do you know why you're here? —he asks sadistically.
—Why do you think you want to play man? —his laugh echoes throughout the room.
—Apparently, you don't know who I am —he pauses to think or pretend to — Well, let me introduce myself. My name is Arwan Ludwig.
Hearing his last name shocks me for a moment. This kid can't be Matteo Ludwig's son. Memories from seven years ago flood my mind — the party, before the attack — he looks identical, just more developed fractions, but...
—Or maybe you remember me as Mathias Ludwig. I still use that name, although very few know it —he shows a calm temperament that annoys me every second.
—What do you want? —I snap, not even trying to hide my anger — As far as I know, I don't owe your father anything —he steps a few more paces forward.
—My father has nothing to do with this. Maybe you want to meet your true enemy or rather... your creation —a crooked smile appears on his lips just as someone's footsteps get closer.
The first thing I see is a girl his age, blonde, in a tight navy blue dress that highlights her figure, also her eyes... I can't even believe what I'm seeing, those blue eyes with that mix of gray she's trying to win, it's... it's...
—Nefertary... —I whisper.
It's her, but at the same time, it doesn't seem like her. She's so changed I barely recognize her, if it weren't for those eyes she inherited from me. She gives off a more defiant air than the one I knew during seventeen years of my life. I was seeing my daughter and at the same time felt like I was seeing someone else.
—No, Mr. Kaelthorn, she is Adeline Megan Ludwig, my wife —he corrects me, and I'm still delirious.
But how? She's supposed to be dead... She died the same day as her sister, just like the empire I left behind, all of it fell... or at least that's what they made us all believe.
—Nikolai Kaelthorn, we have unfinished business —she says as soon as she stops.
—Daughter —it's the only word that escapes my mouth.
—I think you're mistaken. My father died seven years ago with Nefertary Ibagon.
A smile lights up her whole face, madness reflected in her eyes, that mix of pleasure at seeing her lab rats scared... scared?... Of course that's what they felt. How could they not, when I've seen their betrayal before?
—Apparently, the game isn't over.