Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
He was trying to intimidate me, but little did he know I welcomed the unexpected with open arms. It was what I thrived on.
I scoffed, taking a seat in front of his desk without being asked. Making myself right at home. “It’s about damn time somebody did. I thought I was losing my charm.”
“By that, you mean injuring four of my guards?”
“What can I say? Like you said, I like to make an entrance.”
He nodded to the blonde and his guards, and they left, closing the doors behind them. He wanted me to know he wasn’t intimidated by me as well.
“You’re lucky I called off my guards to kill you point-blank.”
“I figured you would.”
“And what gave you that impression?”
“’Cause curiosity killed the cat, and you wanted to know why I was riskin’ my life to meet with you. Men like us love a good battle. We’re warriors.”
“Alright well, to what do I owe the honor of you pissing me the fuck off?” he asked, never breaking eye contact with me.
“Your guard swung at me first. By law, I was simply defendin’ myself.”
“And how many laws are you breaking right now by orchestrating a meeting with me?”
“Not nearly as many as you are by just sittin’ in front of me. Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? You know who I am, but do you know why I’m here?”
“How do I know you’re not wearing a wire?”
“Mauricio Felipe,” I exclaimed his name. In one sentence, I added, “You burned down my warehouse and then stole my cocaine. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Now how’s that for implicating myself.”
“Doesn’t mean you didn’t strike to deal with the feds.”
“Do you want me to shoot more of your men? I wasn’t tryin’ to be rude by fuckin’ muderin’, but I can quickly change that. Maybe that will convince you that I’m not singin’ like a canary?”
He eyed me skeptically for a few seconds, shaking it off. “You just might be fucking crazier than me,” he declared.
I didn’t waver in adding, “I want in.”
“You want in on what exactly?”
“I want in on who is pullin’ the strings ’cause I sure as fuck know it ain’t you.”
“How do you know that?”
“If you thought I was a threat to you, you would have already tried to kill me. So that tells me, you’re not the one pullin’ the strings. Especially if you’re lettin’ me go trigger-happy on your guards.”
He stood, and I followed suit.
“Let’s get a drink,” he insisted.
Music vibrated the speakers throughout the entire mansion as I walked behind him. He wanted to make you think he was setting the scene, the mood when, in reality, he was trying to drown out the screams.
I wasn’t talking about the ones from pleasure.
We walked through what seemed like an endless stream of hallways and stairs. He typed in more access codes along the way, eventually leading us to a ballroom where mostly young women were in cages as if they were animals, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder.
My eyes went back to the scene unfolding in front of me. As if on cue, soft light illuminated the open room. Candles suddenly lit, spreading throughout the entire space as if they magically appeared out of thin air. I didn’t even see anyone light them. It gave the large area a translucent appearance.
In the four corners of the room, women dressed in nothing but heels waited to take center stage, lined up in rows upon rows. I couldn’t take my eyes off them—they were all so beautiful, so flawless, perfection in every form of the word. Their hips swayed to the beat of the music as they put on a performance to be sold.
I didn’t have to see the guests’ faces to know they were all aroused, which was exactly the point. They started to dance provocatively, seducing everyone in the room. Each one of their movements was carnal and sinful, captivating the attention of every last person in the space. The women moved their way toward one another, dancing on each other. Kissing, tasting, feeling each other.
The reactions from their audience only enticed them to keep going.
I witnessed men starting to pull out their hard cocks, stroking themselves to the visions of the pussies in front of them. It didn’t stop there. More women came into the room, dressed exactly the same, encouraging the guests to touch them, play with them, feeling every last inch of their hard bodies. I surveyed the room, breathing in the smell of lust, abandonment, and pussy.
“You want one?” he asked, glancing over at me. All these women were to be sold.
“No.”
He showed me this for one reason and one reason only—it was another test. He wanted to make sure I could stomach the seediness of his world before he disclosed the only information I wanted from the start. The real reason I was there in the first place.