Raven Head Witch

Alssandro Leone Romano

James Mathews hung up and rounded his shoulder to get rid of the fatigue he now had. He is my Vice-President, henchman, undertaker, right-arm man. Despite his age and charisma, he was an ice-berg. A cruel callous bastard.

Though he looked pristine and refined to the nines he had more blood on his hands than I did. We always had hired hands but this sadistic sicko liked to get his hands dirty. He took a pussy, disposed of it. He took a dime, impenitently.

The bar wasn’t owned by Romanos but there isn’t anything that we invaded and couldn’t conquer. Invading the surveillance was a piece of cake. The Manager took us here and served.

I took a swig of my scotch unrestrained from the bottle. I wasn’t in the mood. I had crawled half of Chicago following that cunt of my fiancé and I was irked now. First, she paraded the slums dragging my label and now she was adorning every low-life in Chicago’s stares.

I wanted to fucking grab that sexy bitch by her hairs and fuck that filthy mouth of hers. I wanted her to be my whore and play all these tricks for me. These coquettish, seducing skills, she had. Now I was watching on the screen how she was dashing away tucking her tails between that sweet cunt.

My grip on the glass bottle tightened, I wanted her in my lap squirming like she did on that stool and those long legs she was striding away with around my waist while I fucked her seven ways from Sundays. She was a plague that had infected me; only short of making me cum in my pants this woman had done everything insidious.

I clenched my teeth and fiercely glared at the screens. She’ll be under my thumb in no time, singing my prayers and dancing on my whims.

My eyes shifted to James who was had his drink to his lips and was looking at me in amusement. His eyes coiled round the thirsty exhibit of excitement. Seeing he gained my attention, he tipped his glass and smirked sadistically, “Floating in the sea or mutilated in the woods. Your call.”

My face darkened at the instant, he was talking about my fiancé’s corpse, I haven’t even had the pleasure of rutting yet. I raised my middle finger of the hand holding the bottle in his direction “Stay the fuck out of this!” I snapped, at the end of my wits.

He raised a brow, grinning but took another sip instead of blurting anything that could very well be his ending credentials. I was losing my patience when I wasn’t a saint, to begin with, and this bastard could very well be dead if he was going to irk me further.

I was astonished by my own decisiveness. This woman had always been a histrionic hindrance, a resistance that I aspired to scratch away for as long as she’s made her presence known. Whereas I owned a proportion of the world, this eye-sore had a claim on me. I always knew I was charismatic enough to claim a girl by raising a finger and they would gladly die with a gesture but this woman here was ridiculing my name.

There was this constant ache to have her close, an ache that clogged reasoning, she had ignited a fierce fire in my loins, only she could soothe. The naïve and dumb dandy had grown to be quite a hot babe. That rack and bosoms on that pretty face weren’t leaving my head anytime soon.

I narrowed my eyes at an infinite point. That little minx… I need to flush her out of my system.

When I have her close I would fist those lush dark hair and grab her in her softness and shower her with my hardness, be in places no one’s ever been before. She’ll be moaning and whimpering lost in void and ecstasy. I took a hard gulp burning my already numb throat, she was mine the second she breath first, now I’ll have what’s mine. But these thoughts weren’t helping my case.

“Inform the elders, we’re appointing my fiancé in the secretariat,” I affirmed with resolve. I was getting my little Raven caged sooner than later.

James’s grin froze in a millisecond before his face etched with astonishment, “Boss, are you seriously doing it? Letting a spoilt rotten socialite invade your Empire‘s nest?” His tone held frenzy and apprehension.

The truth was the upmost floor of my corporate building was more than just the Official Head. Social and Underground trade documentation of the Romanos took a hub there. All my staff in that specific area was either related or swore-servers through generations, getting an outsider in was airing the dirty laundry.

A smirk of sarcasm and suppressed rage protruded my lips. “She’s my wife-to-be. Who has more right on my dirt than her?”

The fact was I was getting desperate for that pussy, even knowing she was a parasite. A social parasite that lived to flaunt her Daddy’s money. I knew, I was thinking with my dick and it was the first it was being picky.

This Serena studied in All-Girls Catholic School. I never have as much as seen her more than once in a year, that too in some gala or charity ball where either her pieces are being auctioned or she’s accompanying her father. From what I know that little Daddy’s Princess didn’t come out in the Public much. You can’t even g****e her.

And she had a ‘reputation’ to be a pushover and an emotional fool that stays in her shell in the society so it never came as a surprise to both families that our boat didn’t have sails.

I am sure I was just a sweet-sixteen present to the spoilt Princess. A hunk, her father’s influence brought her. I clutched the bottle tight thinking about the times when serpent-like Thane White was above me.

My dick of a father has recently passed then. The Mafia Business in those days was flaunted far and wide and feds were sniffing in my Business. I was in my lowest and that rotten geezer took advantage of the fact. Got me immunity from being behind the bars but bind that leash of his daughter on my neck. That sexy little leash!

Seeing my mood plummeting, James straightened, gave out a inadequate smile, getting the mood, “Ah… Yes, Boss! I’m sure you’ve got it covered.” He sprang out of the seat and rushed outside knowing he wasn’t needed anymore.

Several seconds in silence and I was getting a headache because of the voluptuous babe. When she was that awkward teenager and even a year before when I had last seen her: she was, by all means, mediocre, absurdly childish, and meek. How had she suddenly turned into a nymph, is out of my understanding!

The Whites didn’t want to stale more and were asking for a wedding date and this little minx ran away. The Romanos didn’t like her anyway, they were ecstatic that the wedding was postponed. Though some knew, her runaway antics weren’t public. The Whites covered it up, saying, she was bedridden and jittery about the wedding but my spies told me another tale. Daddy’s Princess didn’t want this wedding.

For her sake, I hope it was just the Jitter!

My fiancé was a klutz and an introvert. I don’t know how she even had the key to the backroom or why she needed backroom access to enter was an inscrutability on its own. She wasn’t simple; she’s just as much a snake as her father is.

I had underestimated my naïve fiancé. They wanted a wedding, I’ll give them a wedding remuneration for making me scorned, alright.

I sprang up on my feet to pace the carpeted floor when I heard giggling on the other side. Snapping open the door, I came face to face with three women, all dressed to satisfy fetishes. One in a bunny barely-there lingerie, one in dominatrix get up, and the last was a redhead in a seductress attire.

The redhead with the bold persona came closer coquettishly, biting her luscious lips. She grabbed the left lapel of my suit and seductively, coed, “Sir, we—“

I held her wrist and pulled her forward leaving her stupefied as her pretty blues widened. Halting her when she’s a breath away from me. I pecked her right cheek and whispered in her ear, “Fuck off, I’m engaged.” With that I pushed her back, making her stumble back. I walked away leaving the stunning beauties.

I fished out my phone and messaged James to tip all the workers generously from my tab.

Any other day I would’ve gotten a release before leaving but I was craving for a certain Raven head and I didn’t have a feast before my hunt. With all the malice I knew, these sex workers didn’t deserve our disgust. These women were beautiful just unfortunate to not have choices.

If one would say they did it for money, they weren’t earning anything worth mentioning either. You won’t find a millionaire prostitute though you would find a scheming whore as one. Women were innocent by heart, their bodies were just vessels.

At least they were selling their bodies, unlike women who sold their love.

My fiancé… was one scheming parasitic woman too but I didn’t know what was her endgame. I needed to evaluate her values and motives, up close.