CLICK, CLICK, ZIIIIIP. LXIV.- ALEXEI 🐻

Now he breathes deeply and Ángel begins to tell what is the biggest secret of his life, which nobody knows and which has to do with the question P asked him.

He was going to confess it to P and to Topsecret.

“It’s just that I… it’s just that…” — he couldn’t quite get started.

Come on, I can tell you now.

I was already 30 years old and had two daughters; the little boy hadn’t been born yet.

I was on my way to a conference in Budapest.

As soon as I crossed the border, the Hungarian police appeared and arrested me. I hadn’t done anything, but they mistook me for a criminal who was very wanted there.

They interrogated me, and you know what an interrogation is like there. They beat the shit out of me for two whole days, thinking I wasn’t talking because I didn’t want to talk.

On the third day we were already talking about bigger things, because the torture was going to begin, and the first would be genital and anal, as they warned me.

God came to see me because at that moment they arrested the man they had mistaken me for.

Of course, now what were they going to do with me, because if they got the wrong person, a few years before now, I would have passed on to a better life so they wouldn’t have problems.

Alexei was the head of the Hungarian police and had no idea they were torturing me until that moment.

He ordered my transfer to the infirmary of the Central Police Brigade, and that way he would keep an eye on my recovery.

When I saw him, I was stunned.

He was even bigger, chubbier, and more handsome than my Templar tutor, Don Tomas.

Alexei saw me defeated, destroyed. He got very angry about what they had done to me, but there was something else in his gaze that was irresistible. The next three days I was in the infirmary healing.

Alexei had given orders for me to be treated well, and he came by three times a day to ask about my condition. He would appear, speak with everyone about my health, and before leaving, always from a distance, he would give me a smile held for a few seconds, warm and paternalistic, and wave goodbye to me with his hand.

On the fourth day he finally came closer. He was enormous and handsome; he was 58 years old. 28 more than me. He said to me in terrible Spanish, “How are you feeling, Ángel?” and he brought a translator to communicate with me, since he didn’t speak Spanish, I didn’t speak Hungarian, and none of us spoke English.

He told me through the translator… “I’ve been keeping an eye on you and I think you’re going to pull through. The policemen who did that to you have already been arrested. Tomorrow I’ll come to see you, and I hope to have a place for a week so you can finish recovering and then continue your life. A man as big, strong, and good-looking as you cannot have done to him what they have done, and justice ...