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The two women were beautiful like most of my whores were.
It was almost a shame what they had resorted to, selling what had once been supple bodies for money to married men and tourists who made empty promises and left them with nothing but soreness between their legs. The one on the left was actually a regular my father used.
That wasn’t my problem, though. It was, however, a large problem for her because my mother was no longer tolerant of her presence.
“And neither of you have any idea what this book looks like?”
They shook their heads in unison.
“Speak up.”
“N-no, Patrón, of course not.” The one on the right answered.
I’d asked this question three times, giving each of them ample opportunity to tell the truth. Neither did. And I knew this because the man I sent to fuck them was one of my Falcons.
He’d recorded them from the time they sucked his dick as a team to the time they agreed to be informants if he got them out of the city.
They’d claimed to know the location of a book was that held invaluable information.
I wished I could say their deaths wouldn’t be personal but that would be a lie. I didn’t take kindly to anyone threatening my family, my empire, or my money. I also didn’t tolerate duplicity. Loyalty was of utmost importance.
I nodded, pretending I believed them, flashing the charming smile that always put people at ease.
The whore on the left fixed her attention on the file I had sitting on the table. She quickly diverted her gaze when she realized I was watching her for that very reason.
“She’s divine isn’t she?” I picked up the large black and white photograph of Elena Rias.
“Yes,” she said softly, refusing to show her true feelings on the matter.
I placed the photo back in the folder and flipped it closed. Whores should never have the privilege of gazing upon queens.
“Well, since you’re here…” I stood and let her imagination figure out the rest.
Without shame, hesitation, or question she dropped her knees to the terracotta and reached for my belt buckle. As soon as her nimble fingers grasped the leather I brought my arm from behind my back, pressed the barrel of my gun to her forehead, and pulled the trigger before she could scream. My dick twitched as the light left her eyes.
Like a puppet that had been lifted up just to have its strings cut, her body slumped to the ground. Blood formed a shallow puddle around her head.
Her companion screamed and took off, like a newborn calf, trying to scramble across the stained concrete in heels.
“Why do you let them run?” Sergio shook his head in amusement.
“Sometimes I like them to believe they have a chance of survival. Makes it more fun,” I replied, reclaiming my chair.
My gardener, a guard, or my hitman would retrieve the body and wash away the blood.
“So this woman, she’s the right pick?” Sergio gestured to the manila folder, going back to the discussion we’d been having before our temporary guests arrived.
“She’s the only pick. There is no one else it has to be her. It will be her.” I opened the folder again and studied the picture of the woman inside. After being face to face with her, it was brought to my attention that I had yet to receive a photograph that did her any justice.
Hispanic–, short yet proud, she had a classic pin-up like beauty. What I found most intriguing were her eyes.
They radiated a natural innocence and showcased how pure she was, yet there was wickedness there that others would easily miss.
Her eyes were a highway to a hidden treasure buried deep within her soul that I intended to dig out and take for myself.
I envisioned them peering up at me while her pouty lips were wrapped around my dick, my come sliding down her throat. I wondered how wide they’d get when she felt me force myself inside her for the first time.
This world hadn’t had the chance to sully her yet. I was going to dirty up her angel wings, take that questionable innocence and make it wholly unvirtuous.
