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CEO's Only Wife From him
“Where is she, Eric?” Raymond's tone of voice was angry, repressed. Eric knew it very well. It was the same tone of voice Raymond used when talking to Eric in the beginning, when he was still a difficult boy. He didn't like it, not even a little bit. It was early evening, and the girl was still missing. She must have run hundreds of miles by now. How the hell did he let her go? It didn't look like him at all to act so impulsively and stupidly. The first is the failure to firmly grasp the weapon. Then let her escape in the dead of night. And now it's time to involve anonymous actors. “I don't know where she is, Raymond. If I had known, I would have arrested her by now." "Really?" A question filled with implication. When did Raymond begin to suspect him? Since when did Eric give him a reason to do so? The answer to these two questions is, of course, right now. So Eric responded with the same anger and restraint. “I know how important she is, Raymond. I know why I'm here." To destroy
CEO's Only Wife The most important call of my life
After Eric left the pub, I hadn't moved from my hiding place beneath the bar for over an hour. At least I think so, my sense of time has really deteriorated. Repeated weeks of being held hostage in a dark room would do it. Finally, the hippo who calls himself Tiny pulled me by the arm and shook me until I stopped being hysterical. When I had calmed down, I asked, "Why are you helping me?" The guy just frowned at me. “Because you look like you really need help. And you're American." He led me outside, where the bartender, Javier, was waiting in an old pickup truck, rusty pale blue of unknown origin. I was afraid to get in the car. How would I know where they were going to take me, or what they were going to do once they got me where they wanted to go. All I know is that Tiny told me that I would be safe and that he would help me. If I had more options, I would avoid that sloppy motorcyclist as far as possible. The truth is this: I had no better choice, and he knew it. So I got into
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It's not too difficult to find out where the bartender lives, just wait for the patrons to come to the bar and wave a few large denomination US dollars. All residents of old countries understand the value of the dollar. American money represents American life, an opportunity to pursue the future you deserve rather than be manipulated. It's a future worth looting, killing, and selling souls for. Eric couldn't help but sneer at how easy it was to find the girl. He told her not to let him find him, and he was serious when he said that. Again, she refused to listen. Instead, Eric succeeded in defining his goal. A sense of victory welled up in him. But there's something else. Inconsistency. It's always a contradiction when it comes to her. What will he do when he sees her? Beating? Screaming? Slapping her butt until she bursts into tears and begs for mercy, or will covering her with kisses end the same way? With her he never knew, not until the moment took over him, controlling him. Eric
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I didn't bother to ask where to go. We drove off, too fast to consider jumping off, but I still had a faint glimmer of hope that this windy plan would work, and that I would be free. When Ti Hon's motorbike slows down, my heart beats faster. We're heading straight for Chihuahua. Nicole will meet us there tomorrow night with the money. How he would do it, I don't know. Worse, I don't know if he can do it. All I know is that he told Tiny that he would bring the money there. And if he's lying, it doesn't matter, I'll have a little more time. But first, we needed to stop to meet with the rest of the "gang" of Tiny. I don't enjoy seeing more people like Tiny, but as always, I have no choice, no voice. I pulled Eric's jacket tighter around me. Slowly, his scent spread to my nose, drawing my thoughts towards him. What will happen here? Is he looking for me? And why does that thought make me feel both terrified and hopeful? What do you expect? For a second, I wish I had just lay there besid
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She handed me a pair of cropped jeans and a tight leather jacket with a criss-cross strap fastened to the front. I can't stop myself from frowning at the whore-looking clothes. Suddenly my chest received a direct hit and a small pile of junk food fell to my feet. I gritted my teeth. And she replied with a scornful smile. The devil. I picked up the bag of chips and two protein bars. Yes, I will definitely repay her for this "delicious" food. She continued to maintain a balanced expression as she kicked more clothes into the corner of the room. “What, are you going to stand there or are you going to sit down and eat?” I looked at her skeptically. Then many very loud voices came from the other room. “Are you crazy about it?!?” More voices rang out. “Bringing that ferret here was a mistake, man.” someone said. “My God, Tiny, you should send her back while you still can,” said another. “Since when did you become a slut?” Ty Hon said. "What's up?" Nancy shot a dagger-like look at me
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I got up and ran straight to the bathroom to throw up. Their laughter echoed in the background, and Kid had told them they were assholes. My arms wrapped around the top of the toilet, sure to have gotten urine on it, but with my empty stomach and smoking-pot drunk, I really couldn't get anything out. They are laughing at my nose. Bastards. I shouldn't have let my guard down. I shouldn't have trusted anyone. I should have run away from Tiny, and certainly shouldn't have overslept in the bathroom. But trying to puke and gag was draining, making me extremely tired. And drugged again. It was normal at first, my skin became warmer and it felt great. Tingling waves spread through my body and I stretched out to relax. Every thought was diluted and very mellow, as if nothing was right for what it was, as if I was falling, but it was fine to fall, so I just went along. I feel surrounded. Then the softness becomes rougher, and the warm feeling becomes too hot and uncomfortable. I jolted, my b
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Blood. Lots of blood. It mixed with the thick dust on the ground, forming a mixture inside the boy's mouth. He cried. He had never been hit so hard. Above him, the strange man continued to scream, but he didn't understand. The words flowed out too quickly for him to put them together, but otherwise, he would never have heard the language before. He wants to go home. The boy closed his eyes and in a second he was there. To be pulled into his mother's arms and kissed on the neck by her, making him chuckle. He was her "Handsome Little Man". His little legs thrashed as he burst out laughing, but his mother held him so tight she wouldn't let him fall. Tears burned his eyes. Everything is burning. “Sukat!” said the man. The boy knew that word, he always used it when he cried or screamed. The boy forced himself to be silent, trying to breathe through his nose and swallowing all the blood that flowed back into his throat. He is no longer hungry. His stomach is already full of blood. Hunger
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The second car carrying Jair's cousin stopped right behind and then turned off the engine. The three men got out of the car and immediately walked to the back of the SUV to retrieve their weapons. Eric's hand searched for the S&W Model 29 pistol with its Magnum 44 cartridge; That's enough to shoot through the door. Or a face. Whatever. He looked at Jair, resisting the urge to shoot him in the head and end it all, but held back. Jair still has some utility value. Eric looked at the pistol. It's been a while since he'd used it, but the familiar feeling had wriggled through his fingers, up his arms, seeping through his chest and forcing his heart to speed up. His head was flooded with adrenaline, and three feet down was where he was getting an erection at the thought of killing and taking back what was his. Jair checked his AK-47 and Eric watched as he stroked the weapon. He understood Jair in the rarest of ways. That bloodlust and mutual understanding, any similarity between them disg
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