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Chapter 11 - The stalker

The driver opened the back door for her, and she sat in. Dropped the clutch on the seat and tipped her head back on the headrest, frustration leaving her body in the form of pent up breaths.

She was blackmailed into attending an event that Antonio was supposed to. Due to some unforeseen, stupid circumstances, as he mentioned, he couldn't attend.

The room was filled with political elders who drove her insane with their yawn-worthy topics. If she'd stayed any second longer in that hall, then she would've slit the Mayor's throat for talking to her nonstop about joining this NGO that he was fundraising for.

The purpose was to help the needy children and give them proper education. Now both he and Chiara knew he wasn't about to do none of that. He just wanted to feed his greedy old ass.

"Are we stopping anywhere, Ma'am?" Asked the driver.

"No." She shut her eyes.

Her exhibition was taking a toll on her. She had no time to waste on other insignificant things. She deprived herself of shopping for a whole week, something that was so unlike her, just for the sake of it.

But Antonio being Antonio, he'd always find an excuse to use her. And her mother was his easy golden ticket. That old geezer. She huffed.

"Uh... Ma'am?" The driver spoke again, breaking her from her rare moment of nonexistent peace.

"Let me rest for God's sake." She uttered.

"I'm sorry, but I think a car is following us."

Her eyes flew open. "What did you say?"

"A car is following us."

She almost forgot that he was a new driver. "Let them, it's just a paparazzi looking for breakfast or promotion." She returned to her former position.

It was the privilege that came with the name. Marino wasn't a normal name in Milan. Antonio has terrorized a lot of innocent souls in this city. Every news magazine would kill to get his name on the front page of their newspapers.

"No, you don't understand, Ma'am. This one doesn't look like a paparazzi, they're something else."

Chiara sat up immediately, brows furrowing as she slowly turned behind. A black tinted Aston Martin was on their tail.

Great, now I have a rich stalker too, to my overflowing cup. She blew out in frustration.

"Keep driving at a normal pace," She informed the spooked driver and then quickly fished her phone form the clutch, texting Xander the plate number.

The driver took a turn, and the car was still after them. Her phone beeped.

X: There is no such plate number. Doesn't exist. Is everything okay?

Me: Thank you. And yes, everything's cool.

She placed the phone down, "Move to the passenger's seat." She said to the driver. Her blood was boiling with a scorching heat

"What? But, Ma'am, we don't even know who that person is or what he wants from you. They could harm you the second you do. Please remain at the back." Said the driver. Her eyebrow raised.

She truly appreciated his worry, but getting disrespected like that pricked her skin. It made the blood flowing in her veins boil even more.

"Do I look like I'm scared to you? Move the hell up before I shove you out the window, Bruno." She drawled.

The driver sighed, "I'm Benjie."

"Whatever." She bit back.

He stopped the car, and so did the car behind them.

"I didn't ask you to stop, you idiot." What was he doing? She was going to kill whoever assigned him to her.

"It's dangerous, Ma'am."

"And you are becoming dangerous for my health." They quickly switched seats, and just like that, the car drove past them.

"Uh-uh. Son of a bitch, you don't get to leave so easily." She hit the gear and chased after it.

Their car swerved to the side as she missed running over a biker because she didn't care about the road signs at the moment. Benjie held the grab handle, his face paling.

"Watch out!" He shouted. Chiara took a hard left and dragged a line of chairs outside a café in an attempt to avoid hitting a woman and her kids in her Sedan.

"Shit!" She uttered, exhaling in relief.

The adrenaline should've rushed the car as well at this point, and not just her body. She thought.

Just when he was about to slip to the highway and ditch her, she sped up and caught up with him. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel.

She drove past him before taking a sharp turn and turning over. So now they were facing each other while her car drove backwards.

A silhouette of a man in a mask stared right back at her.

Who the hell are you? She thought.

"This is dangerous, Ma'am." Benjie howled.

"I'm the danger, Bruno."

"I'm Benjie." He sniffled.

"Put your seatbelt on, Banjo."

The car raked the asphalt on the road, leaving a wake of smoke. Why wasn't he doing anything? She wondered.

Police sirens blared at the back of her head, but the rage that she'd felt overshadowed worry.

If he decided to come after her, then he should've at least given her some respect by showing her what he had.

Was he here to escort me home? Chiara thought, grinning.

How cute.

She hit the brakes and knocked the bumper of his car, sending him back an inch. Then she raised a middle finger at him. "Fuck off, you rotten little dick!" She didn't care if he heard her or not, but it was hard to miss her finger.

The red and blue lights gleamed at the back. She hit his car again, crushing his headlights. She then reversed, turned and raced away, leaving the fucker surrounded by two of the fed's cars.

While another one went after her.

Anybody who came after her had to know that she was certified to be in a mental asylum.

Chiara thought, her eyes gleaming with mischief. In this world, some people pretend to be crazy. And then there was me, trying my best to appear sane. Because deep down, I'm not.

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