13

I'm in fucking stress. It's been two weeks since I arrived from New York and everything seems to be going wrong. When I take two steps forward, it feels like something pulls me back. I discover that the hole César put me in is much bigger than I thought. But that just makes me more motivated.

I leave work and go to a bar close to home. I'm in need of a drink and some other air to relax with, because I've done all I can today.

Cecília is walking on the rails, as she promised. I have people watching her so that she doesn't do anything that will tarnish my image. After all the work the last few days, I just had time to announce our engagement to the press today. The news swirled everywhere, with speculation and gossip. But I do not care.

I take a seat at one of the far-flung tables and lift my finger to order a brandy. The place is discreet, empty and quiet. I rarely come here due to lack of time, but it's a good pastime when I need to relieve myself. In every sense of the word.

I see a