I swear to fuck Chiara knows I’m watching her. Every time her fingers slide inside her wet pussy, she glances up at the camera. It’s as if she wants to taunt me. Make me so fucking desperate for her I’ll agree to anything just to get inside her tight little cunt.
Honestly, she’s not wrong. I am desperate. And also hornier than a teenage boy.
It’s been way too long since I fucked anyone. If I wasn’t convinced the bastard was looking for opportunities to record blackmail material, I’d pay a visit to Remington’s private club.
Rumors abound about what sort of fucked-up shit goes on at his more exclusive events, and from what I’ve heard, they attract the richest, most debauched individuals. Knowing Remington, he’d love it if I showed up for the next event.
Perhaps a night of debauchery is what I need to break the spell my wife has cast over me.
On screen, she moans so sweetly as she fucks her pussy with her fingers. My cock weeps, and as she gasps out her pleasure, I come all over my hand. For a brief moment, every part of me relaxes, but then I hear her vicious little taunt, “I hope you enjoyed that, you pervy bastard,” and I shove the laptop off my desk in disgust.
After cleaning up the mess I just made, I pick up my ringing phone.
It’s Tucker. I sent him off on an errand earlier.
“Boss, it’s not good. The latest consignment has been messed with. We got a bunch of ODs and people are panicking.”
For fuck’s sake.This is why I hate dealing in drugs. The cartel is always trying to stiff us on price, and now our product is killing people. Well, faster than usual, anyway.
“Pull the supplies for now. Tell the dealers to lock down this shit until we figure out the source of the problem.”
I know the product was clean when it arrived, so at some point thereafter, it’s been tampered with. The question is by whom and why.
“Get your ass over here,” I tell Kane when he picks up. He sounds even more pissed off than me, and then I remember he had a date with the woman he sometimes fucks.Oh well. She’ll get over it.
Thirty minutes later, he walks into my apartment. I watch as he pours himself a drink and takes a seat on the sofa.
“You look like shit,” I comment.
“Ditto.” I don’t bother pressing him for details. His love life is not my concern, and I have bigger problems on my mind.
“Tucker says the consignment delivered yesterday has been fucked with. People are dying.”
“People always die when they shove shit into their veins,” he points out.
“Obviously, but I’d prefer it if they didn’t die within five fucking minutes of shooting up,” I retort. “It’s not good for our brand.”
“You said you wanted out of the drug trade.” He sips his drink, not seeming especially concerned.
“I did and I do, but we’re not ready to pivot away just yet. We have a contract with the cartel for five more shipments, and if I break the contract, Santiago Cantaloa will have my head on a spike.” When he doesn’t respond, I snatch his glass out of his hand.
The baleful look he throws me makes me pause. Whatever’s going on with him, it’s serious.
“Everything alright?” Kane is my best friend, and as much as it pains me to talk about feelings and shit, I will go there. For him.
He shifts awkwardly and refuses to meet my eye, but nods. “Yeah. All fine. I ended it with Sienna this evening, so yeah.”
“Oh.” I try to summon an image of Sienna and fail. “Well, that sucks.” I scrub my jaw while attempting to look sympathetic.
He snorts out a laugh before standing and walking over to the sliding door that looks out across the city.
“I’ll talk to the dealers in the morning. Find out who had access to the shipment once it reached the warehouse. Security is tight, so there can’t be that many suspects.”
I hum in agreement. “Call Leon. Ask him to check the security footage in the warehouse.” I scan the latest news reports on the 24-7 channel. Already there are reports coming in about a spike in drug-related deaths.Jesus, fuck. How is that even possible? It’s almost as if the reporters were waiting for the story.
“This coming not long after Sully’s body floated up in the harbor is suspicious,” Kane says, voicing what I was already thinking.
“You think this is the Russians meddling?”
