When the general leaves, Damien breathes a lot easier.He despises the man, and he rarely truly despised anyone. He no longer sees the point in maintaining their alliance, but getting rid of him will be costly and problematic. He is currently the only one on his side and even though Damien no longer needs him, killing him will be bad for business. Everyone will hunt him down like game and tear apart everything he owns. He isn't willing to lose everything he spent a lifetime and a half building. No, the general isn't that important.He loosens his tie and lights a cigarette. He smokes it quickly, then lights another. This long, senseless meeting isn't the only issue bothering him and he knows it. As much as he tries to ignore it, it keeps swimming to the surface.The men he sent to the station still did not return or send a message. Rhett's arrest was unexpected. Normally, his men aren't taken into custody. For something like this to happen out of the blue makes very little sense. He t
I wake up with a start. I had a terrible dream. Being chased in the dark by a raving lunatic with a machete. I haven't had a bad dream in so long. The sun's in my face, I must've slept with the curtains open. I get to my feet and shower. I dress in a baby blue dress and golden sandals. I have nowhere to go today, and I haven't heard from Jason.He didn't sleep in, he didn't leave a text. I want to shrug it off as paranoia, but I'm concerned. I only met him a few days ago, but he doesn't seem like this kind of person. Maybe he's just busy, but something feels off.I think of the last time I saw him. He had to leave urgently. Where'd he go? Everyone was so agitated. He did send me the text with the address of the club later, though. So maybe he just had a long night.I'm straightening my hair when the door bell rings. I get to my feet. It must be Jason, that's what I think initially. Then, I stop in my tracks. Why would he ring the doorbell? This is his apartment. I'm the guest, not him
I didn't even realize I fell asleep.The apartment is completely dark. I stub my toe on the corner of the bed and let out a frustrated sigh. My toe starts throbbing, but I don't have any time to waste. I check the time and I gasp aloud. I'm late. Again. This can't be happening.I'm not necessarily late, but I will be in thirty minutes. I grab my bag and navigate through the dark. I lock the apartment, fly down the staircase and run out of the building. I manage to find an empty cab. The driver turns to me and asks, "Where to?"I still haven't memorized the address, so I show I'm Jason's text message. "Can you get there in twenty minutes?"He whistles. "Don't think so, lady."I open my purse and retrieve a fresh bill. "Can you do it for a hundred?"He snatches it from me. "I guess we'll see."The entire time I'm clutching my bag until my knuckles turn white. Devon's right. I can't let Jason's death ruin my plans. As sad as I am that he lost his life, it could've easily been me. I need
And just like that, I've become an employee they can trust.It's been two weeks since Jason's death and the Kellers have put me to work in another bar, a lounge they own. Well, when I say the Kellers I mean Damien, since he's the one who's in charge. Ethan mostly takes care of the financial aspects of the business or rather, businesses, and Theodora, well, I haven't quite figured out what it is she does. Still, I know more about them than I did when I first got here, and that's a bonus.I know they trust me and not only because Jason was a trusted employee. My display of loyalty in his office the day of the shooting really gave me an edge. I deliver letters, tons and tons of them. Basically, he hands me an envelope and I meet his driver, Thomas, outside. He drives me to wherever the location is, where I meet someone and deliver the letter. No words are exchanged. We go about our separate ways after.I didn't think this was how they communicated. From what I've heard, anything could be
I peer at the dark building before us.There are many cars parked outside, and I can hear the music blasting from here. I don't have to be told that the Kellers own this establishment. It's one of their 'businesses'.Why would he bring me here? What kind of loyalty test am I expected to pass? I'm thinking of a million things at once. His driver parks the car and Ethan turns to me. "Your attire is inside. I'll show you." Attire? That means I'll have to dress up.They wouldn't make me strip, would they?Ethan doesn't show any ID at the door, so that confirms the fact that they own this place, too. I'm beginning to think they own half of the city. They have shares in multi-million dollar companies, wine bars, lounges, clubs. And it's all just the tip of the iceberg.Once we're inside, there's only one word that perfectly describes the scene before us: pandemonium. The music is loud. I've heard this song before, in a radio somewhere, but I can't remember the title. It's everything I thoug
Damien is balls deep into Elizabeth when the phone rings.He's been expecting this phone call all day. He feels it in his gut that it's Oliveira confirming the meeting. He grabs her by the hips and thrusts harder and faster, just the way she likes it. Her moans are saturated with the kind of pleasure only he can give her, and he knows it.She wraps her legs around him, pulling him closer. Her long nails dig into the soft flesh of his tattooed back. She throws her head back in pure ecstasy, and all the while the phone keeps ringing. And ringing.He fists her soft, velvety hair. He buries his face in her fragrant neck. She groans, but doesn't complain. Her walls clench around his hard cock and she shudders. He spills inside of her with a guttural sound. She sucks his bottom lip and he shoves his tongue in her warm mouth. His grip on her thighs will definitely leave a bruise. The phone never stops fucking ringing."I've got to take this," he says to her. He picks up the phone just as she
I scrutinize my reflection in the mirror. I no longer recognize the person staring back at me. This can't be Amelia George. Amelia's wandering around somewhere, she left a while ago. Or rather, she stayed in that room with Mr. Pascual's hands on her tits. This is Yara Huxley, the girl that would do anything to please. The girl that doesn't exist.I've never felt this unclean before. I could roll around in mud and eat dog shit and I still wouldn't feel this way. It's the kind of dirt that soaks into the skin and embeds itself right beneath the surface. No amount of scrubbing will get it out. It's there for life, as a reminder of what I've done. What I let that man do to me.I'm in the lounge's bathroom. The job is done, the deal sealed. Or maybe it isn't, I wasn't paying enough attention. All I could do was stare as his hands rubbed circles on my skin. Every time he'd move his hand closer to my breasts or under my dress, I'd hold my breath. He went as far as touching my clit. And all
"Devon!" I say breathlessly with my hand over my erratic heart. "You scared the shit out of me!""Close the door," he commands.I do as he says. "What are you doing here in the dark? You're trying to give me a heart attack, aren't you?" I set my bag down on the couch. "How'd you even get in here?" I glance back at the door. "Did you pick the lock?"He gives me a once-over. I can guess how I must look in this satin red gown. "Where were you tonight?"My face grows bright red. I don't know if I'm embarrassed, ashamed or angry. A bit of all three, I think. "With Ethan Keller at a strip club. And before you ask, yes, this old man groped my breasts and caressed my thighs. And put his hand over my crotch. I did everything I had to do. I followed your orders."This appears to make him mad. "My orders? I never told you to do anything like that.""No, you just told me to do everything they wanted me to do and that's what I did, Devon." My voice cracks towards the end. I want to cry, but I hold