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)
“No?” I mocked, shoving the man in my hold away from me.
I immediately shot him in the back of the knee as I pulled out my other gun from my holster, taking down three others with single shots to their knees no sooner than they could blink. I spared their lives for now.
I redirected the aim of my guns at the shit-talking guard, standing to my right, and questioned, “How about now?”
His eyes widened, taking in the scene laid out in front of him. At that exact moment, one of the guard’s cell phones rang.
He answered, and I added, “We both know what’s gonna happen if you kill me. You’re smart enough to realize I’d cover my tracks before coming here. Anyone who matters has the knowledge of my whereabouts. Even if you hid my body, it’s still going to fall back on your boss. I’ll look like a hero who was tryin’ to take down a sex-traffickin’ ring while he spends the rest of his life rottin’ in prison.”
He knew what I was saying was the truth. I could see it in his beady expression.
“I don’t give a flyin’ fuck if I die… Can you say the same?”
It was over.
I won.
“I suggest you use your earpiece and tell whoever the fuck you answer to, I’ll be waitin’ at the bar inside.”
I didn’t give him a chance to reply, holstering my gun as I made my way toward the front doors. As I walked into the infamous party, I could feel the same aura and magnetic pull of all the whorehouses I’d been in. The smell of pussy and sex instantly attacked my senses.
It was hard to ignore when it was all around you, which was the point of these establishments. It suffocated people with the need to fuck, paying a shitload of money to own a slave for the night or even take one home with you.
I walked past the foyer, over to two of the most elegant grand staircases that flowed seamlessly to the marble floors, opposite each other. There was translucent lighting everywhere, with half-naked girls dancing seductively in certain areas around the open room. Food lay on the bare skin of both men and women, and the servers walked around topless, wearing nothing but G-strings and a fucking smile.
Some were straddling men, others were going at it with women, and some were even in groups, taking it in every hole simultaneously. I watched as they sucked cock and ate pussy, being fucked and receiving pleasure. None of it made my cock hard. I was desensitized to shit shows like these. Especially since I knew this was just a cover-up for the main event on display somewhere behind these walls.
I was meeting Duchess tomorrow night. It had been a few days since our last interaction, and the last thing I wanted was to die without knowing at least her name.
“So you’re the one who’s been a very bad boy,” a busty blonde announced, stepping out in front of me and catching my attention straight away. “I’m Vivian.”
“Is that supposed to impress me? I’m assumin’ you’re the one who’s gonna take me to your boss?”
She smiled wider, placing her hand on my chest. “Wow, way to hurt a girl’s feelings. I thought we could talk first. Perhaps grab a drink.”
“The only talkin’ I want to do is with your boss.”
She reluctantly nodded, leading the way. I followed as we took the staircase to the second floor, leading us to a private elevator with more guards standing around. She set her index finger on the security screen, making the doors open, where she punched in a code on the keypad once we were both inside.
I stood on the opposite end of the elevator, the farthest spot away from her. My eyes focused in front of me, and her eyes stayed locked on the side of my face as we ascended to the top floor.
As soon as the doors opened, I was struck with a coppery scent I was more than familiar with. There was no mistaking the smell of fear and bodily fluids all around me. She nodded to three more guards standing in front of a set of open double doors, partially blocking our view. They stepped aside, staring me down as I followed her into a vast room that looked like a private office.
I could possibly end up another murder victim like the two men bleeding out on the floor to our right and the one who was partially alive, tied to a chair in the middle of the room.
I didn’t pay them any mind.
“You sure know how to make an entrance, Luke Jameson,” the man behind his desk announced in a thick Dominican accent, leaning back in his chair. “Unlike my guards, I know who you are.”