TS 3 Chapter 15

 Chapter 15

Ferdinand von Kleist's diary

December 29^th, 2015 

Abu Dhabi 

So here I am; Abu Dhabi. Cecilia nagged me several times to visit Dubai but for obvious reasons I wasn't going to spend my money here. She bitched quite a lot in her passive-aggressive way; “you don't love me”; “I think we could be so happy there”; “Little Cecilia would love to go there” (???? She was three years old! Any sandbox is the same) Bitch, I'm going to watch New Year's Eve fireworks in a seven stars hotel.

I couldn't help to send her a selfie of me and our three bedroom suite at the Emirates Palace. Anyway, the divorce sentence is out. I'll ask the butler if they sell hotel towels and shampoo samples and send her a lovely souvenir box. 

Guntram put on his best face during the flight but I know it was very taxing for him. The doctors did their best to keep him comfortable but living attached to that thing can't be good for your sanity. The medical plane was fine but it was a very long flight. He was taken to the hospital as soon as we landed and doctors decided to let him rest for a day before starting the procedure today. 

I'm concerned about the lad but there isn't much else I can do. He's in best hands and I can only pray. The Argentinian stayed at the hospital with him, waiting for news while Milan and I returned to the hotel. 

It's a twelve hour surgery but I'm confident. If the old Rothschild -who is over a hundred years old and is by his sixth heart-, still lives, Guntram can pull it through. 

I'll phone Konrad once I have the results. He also has a lot on his own with four boys at home. The poor dears were very afraid to leave Guntram but he talked them into going with their father. I do hope the boys soften Konrad's heart and gives the lad a second chance. 

I think they're both in love but they're too stubborn to see it. Both are hurt and behave like pigs.

At least they made their peace and that's a lot. Di Mattei is willing to open negotiations with us pending on the outcome of Guntram's surgery. That boy inherited his father's skills for writing and that's a blessing. He calmed down the Italian in no time. 

The only problem here -besides Guntram's health- is that Arab lurking around. He's not a bad guy and even Konrad respects him but it's impossible that he wants to “move in” with Guntram. 

No way in hell. 

On top, Konrad has granted the Arab free access and now he can play the knight in shinning armour with a camel. Guntram is so idiotic that he will certainly buy it. 

We can't let that happen. I can't let the lad ruin his life like this. He can't ruin his boys' future by throwing everything to the winds. He can't ruin his reputation as a de Lisle by “hanging out” with a Muslim. 

We all voted. What kind of boyfriend would you have for Guntram: Repin or the Sheik? All of us preferred the Russian. 

The Muslim is out of the question. What's next? Is he going to convert to Islam? 

Over my dead body. 

Goran will strangle him before he lets him do something so stupid. Luckily for Guntram, Goran is busy with the smallest baby, teaching him to play the piano. At the moment, it’s for the best to keep him away. So it is up to Ratko, Milan and me to fix this mess. It's better to leave Albert out of the picture because he has enough with his own trouble at home. 

Bloody treacherous women! No matter what Konrad says, Guntram was right; they didn't lift a finger for us. Only Monika. Michael is a lucky bastard. 

* * * 

TS 3 Chapter 14

 Chapter 14

Guntram de Lisle's diary 

December  19^th, 2015 

Auckland

The first memories I have from waking up in the hospital are nurses and doctors buzzing like bees around me. Later, I realized that the buzzing noise was made by the machines attached to me and that nurses and doctors were trying to speak to me like normal human beings. I suppose they were afraid that twenty something days in an induced coma had turned my brain into purée, but no, it was still all right. 

At first I didn't understand what had happened to me. I was only hearing things like “everything worked out fine”; “you're doing much better now”; “it was a though case” and so on, but then I finally saw the two tubes coming “from inside me”, right under my ribcage and going to a machine with wheels. I didn't know what it was or maybe I didn't want to find it out. Those days, sleeping was the best thing that could happen to me.

Doctors deemed that I was doing better and transferred me to a room with the machine coming along with me. This thing is a child size cube with wheels, with blinking lights and LCD screen.