Chapter 5 - The First Stroke

Dylan could see the smoke rising in the air from the distance. He tapped the space on the chair beside him and Hill got it. He accelerated the speed of the Urus instantly. 

The SUV sped along the highway till it stopped at the entrance of a warehouse by the side of the road. The gates had been blown off their hinges and suited men in all black stood in their place.

They paved way for the vehicle as it drove into the premises. The Urus came to a halt in front of the burning building. Dylan alighted immediately and walked slowly to the blazing structure. 

A middle-aged man clad in a black suit and white shirt walked to him. "Pope" he bowed reverently. 

"Who did this, Bishop?" Dylan asked in a grave tone. This was one of his warehouses which was used as a reserve for storing luxury outfits and corporate wears for his clothing store. However, underneath, he ran one of Miami's biggest fentanyl production.

Whether the person knew this was a fentanyl joint or not, he just burned down millions of dollars both in clothing and drugs.

"My men are still looking into it. The person was smart enough to deactivate the cameras before burning down the place. Our guards here were killed before they even knew what was going on" Bishop explained without looking straight at Dylan.

Dylan heaved. This was a bold step. Whether as a philanthropist or a mafia don, he wasn't one to be messed with. Even the damn glutton of a mayor knew that. As he watched the sparks go up in the smoke with the flames dancing beneath, only two words resounded in his ears. Black Ceaza.

He clenched his fists and exhaled. "The Vicar should be here soon. You both should see to it that this place is taken care of and up and running before the day's end. If the media asks, tell them there was a gas leakage" he instructed and boarded his Urus.

"My office" he calmly communicated to Hill.

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Dylan watched as Chelsea strode elegantly into his office. He didn't sit up, he simply laid back in his chair.

Chelsea noticed the wistfulness in his eyes as she sat down gently. She dropped her purse on the desk and leaned forward. 

"Is there a problem, Mr. Cross?" she asked with sincere interest. 

Dylan exhaled and sat up. "One of my warehouses just got burnt to the ground. I lost over a million dollars today" he said soberly. 

Ouch! Chelsea felt a sharp pain. I haven't even swindled him yet, she thought. She almost cancelled the idea of swindling him as she saw how the loss left him devastated. But this was the streets. Her sympathy had been lost a long time ago. It's life, and losses are bound to happen. 

She stood up and went round the table. She reached for his shoulders and caressed them. "Sorry for the loss, I'm sure it wasn't intentional" she tried placating him.

"I think my enemies are closer to me than I expected. I feel they even have someone who's beside me a lot" he said reflectively. As he made the statement, he observed Chelsea through the corner of his eyes. 

He expected her expression to change or for her to be uneasy. Surprisingly, she maintained her composure and the rhythm of her caress didn't change.

"You'll be good Dylan, you'll be good. You're a strong man" she said soothingly, concern evident on her tone.

"Thanks for the concern" he replied. "Let me not bore you with my predicaments. Come and sit let's discuss your jewelry business" he gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

She obliged and walked back to her chair gracefully, sitting gently. She clasped her hands and relaxed in the chair, her eyes fixed on the young boss as he began his detailing. 

She tried to pay attention as he explained the basics of the jewelry business. Yet his chivalrous demeanor and elegant gestures did an excellent job of distracting her all the timely as y

"You need to know your target audience" he was saying. "If you're targeting the hiphop celebrities, if you're targeting the affluent and wealthy personalities, if you're targeting the classic and rich bitches, if you're targeting the street rich men, you can't be everything.

"You have to choose who you want to be your patrons, then focus your capital on investing in their type of jewelry. My store focuses on the wealthy and affluent. Chopard and Cartier status" he said with a smirk, an expression that perfectly depicted the pride of self-made accomplishment.

"So who are you envisioning as your patrons?" he asked.

"Definitely the classic and rich bitches" she smiled, revealing her perfect dentition. 

"Impressive. It'll be good for you. You know their tastes and what they'll like" he concurred.

"I guess" she replied and turned a little on the chair, crossing her bare legs.

He leaned backwards when he saw this. As much as he wanted to tread with caution and always see her as a suspect, there was something in her that seemed to get the best of his suspicions and allure him to her.

Whether it was her cutely innocent beauty or her bad girl vibes, he just couldn't tell. But he knew that in his saddened state, he wanted to lay her low and let her make him forget the troubles.

Even if she was tied to the enemy.

He abruptly got up from his seat and went around the table. He saw her expression contort to one of uncertainty as he approached her. He got to her and grabbed her face, cupping her chins in his palms. His lips simultaneously descended on hers with masculine ferocity.

He felt her hand grab the back of his head as she stood up. She returned the gesture with a gaining press on his lips. They locked their oral lobes in a passionate frenzy, savoring the tastes and flavours of each other's orifice. 

After almost a minute, Dylan ran his tongue from her lower lip, over her jaw and onto her neck. Chelsea threw her head backwards in pleasure. She closed her eyes as passion-filled gasps and desirous moans escaped her mouth while Dylan laced her neck with unrelenting strokes. 

She felt and unbuttoned the upper part of his shirt as she heaved rhythmically, her body wanting for more. She could feel Dylan's tongue running down into her cleavage. 

"Oh, fuck" she moaned loudly. She immediately felt his hand on her mouth.

He paused and looked into her eyes. "We're in an office. Let's take this to the lounge" he said, covetousness resonating from every inch of his tone.

She nodded and grabbed her purse. He buttoned up his shirt and grabbed his phone from the desk. He winked at her and opened the door granting her passage. She walked out elegantly and he followed, closing the door behind him.

They walked together along the spacious hallway. Dylan decided they take the stairs as the elevator was a more tempting option. He didn't want any scandal from his office yet. They finally exited the office building and walked to the garage. Hill was already waiting beside the Urus with the backdoor open.

They boarded the SUV and after exchanging a few body contacts, Golden Petals' lighting came in view. They alighted and made their way to the elevator. Immediately the doors slid close, Dylan grabbed Chelsea's hips and turned her body to face him. She wrapped her hands around his neck and they resumed their oral exercise.

The elevator dinged and they paused, exiting it with haste. In no time, they were already inside Chelsea's lounge. He motioned to grab her but she slapped his hand away. She placed her index finger on his lips and pushed him onto a sofa. Then she retreated graciously to her room, swaying her hips slowly as she went.

Dylan bit his lower lip and smiled in anticipation. After two minutes, he heard the approaching sound of delicate and rhythmic footsteps. As he expected, he saw her walking slowly towards him, swaying her hips in superslow motion. 

She was almost bare to the sole of her feet, the only covered part of her body being her genital region. On getting to him, she twirled her body, flashing her moist caramel skin before his eyes.

His expression froze as he caught sight of something he immediately wished he never saw.