ARE YOU STALKING ME?

ARE YOU STALKING ME?
Viviana 

I sustained some injuries. Scratches on my legs, a bruise on my cheek and a cut on my shoulder. Although my boss ensured that the doctors and nurses did a good job on me, I still feel weak and achy all over. 
And so I couldn’t bring myself to imagine the state Massimo was in. I know the force of the explosion had thrown us off but he had taken the major brunt of the bomb attack- shielding me from it and the screaming others in the room. 
Just before I was pulled under and succumbed to the mental impact of the attack, I think I even saw his face fell off, like the skin at the side of his face torn away. As much as I am grateful to him- so very grateful- I do not know what to think. If that was the case, if the bomb has also affected his facial features, I know myself, guilt would begin to try to eat me slowly. But still I had to see him. 
My boss had been so shaken by the attack, super grateful that he had been called upon by that time. He had also been delusional, saying words like, “that attack must have been meant for me.
My enemies must have been the ones to plant it in that building, at the same time that I was there.”
Honestly, how delusional is one allowed to get before a resounding slap can be used to awaken one from the realm of dreams? It’s clear he is dreaming. I have no doubt that he is an important and influential man. To further prove my point, I am one of his accountants and his second secretary, and I have been opportuned to get a good and broad insight to the life of the rich and wealthy and also Jacob Bianchi. And so I know sometimes, just like the others, he gets himself involved with the wrong few. He invests his hands in things he shouldn’t have a business with. Sometimes not just because it might have an impact on his family Corporations but because it doesn’t reflect well on him.
But who cares?
But for him to say the bomb had been planted at the event to ensure his death is just such a far stretch. Who could hate him that much and how deep could he be involved with something bigger than him that now he is wanted dead. 
It’s not like he has relations to the mafia or anything and there were more other influential persons in the space- people that are more influential than him. This might sound weird, but people that are ‘bomb- worthy.’
From his words to me, I was able to find out that despite the state Massimo had been in, he had immediately catered to Jacob’s security detail, ensuring that everything would be in smooth running till he got back on his feet. That is something else- the man is much more dedicated to his work than anyone I have ever seen or met.
A few minutes after speaking and catching up with Rosalia, she helped me to a wheelchair- one that was placed on standby, should  in case I got bored and needed to move around.
I am not bored and I don’t necessarily need to move around- but I need to see the person who saved my life.
With Rosalia at my back, pushing the wheelchair for me, we got to the room Mr Bianchi had gotten for Massimo. It was four rooms after mine and didn’t require much energy and time to get to.
I knocked on the door and a few seconds later, someone opened the door. He was dressed in black shirt and a black pair of trousers, just like the others in the room. Although we were still at the door, but we could see about fifteen to twenty men dressed as the man who just opened the door, bowing their heads to the man on the bed- who is most likely Massimo.
Who are they? Could they be Massimo’s friends who heard of his attack and came to check on him? It must be great to have friends like these. But he never struck me  as someone who had so many persons around him, people who cared this much to fly over- (I could tell they weren’t Asian and mist definitely weren’t Japanese. Without doubt they had flown into the country.)
But why would they bow to him. Is it something they do? Like to show respect or something? 
Or yes, perhaps they belong to the security and protection company Massimo belongs to, that must explain it.
The man who had opened the door, still kept standing, only offering us a side look into the room. His lips were partly opened as he stared past me and to the one that guided the wheel chair to this room. I looked at him and turned my head to ll at Rosalia who also had that look of surprise on her face at seeing him.
Why? What could have happened?
The man looked smart, good and… familiar. Familiar?
Yes! Yes. I remember him. From the club Rosalia and I attended last. He was the one who has been squatting down with her while she pressed for him to bear the name Ken.
“Are you following me?” The man asked, folding his arms across his chest. 
“I should ask you the same. Are you stalking me?” Rosalia asked.