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He hung up. Fuck. Bruno wasn’t going to take no for an answer. If I could leverage him somehow, just do one video alone, maybe I wouldn’t get trapped into doing more. The problem was, I had nothing to offer.
As soon as work ended, I told Adon I was heading to The Armstead to see my friends. His stern brow made me feel like I was asking a father for permission to play outside. None of us had had our Papa since we were very young, but Adonis always treated me like his wayward son.
Before heading to the bar, I took a detour to the Internal Affairs studio. I had visited a few times back in the day, following Davis around like a scared child. That same feeling of intimidation and dread filled me as I drove over to the place. Pulling up into the gated parking lot, I informed the guard that I was there to see Bruno.
“Oh, Footlong, right? Yeah, come on in.” Gritting my teeth at the nickname, I nodded at the gatekeeper.
The studio was a giant, windowless warehouse with several levels of filming rooms. Driving past, it was easy to miss the nondescript beige plaster box building. A large poster of scantily clad women surrounded by theatre lights showcasing the production company’s latest video was the only clue there may be scandalous events occurring inside.
Marble floors decked the main hall as I strode over to the circular reception desk. A very busty blonde in a tight shirt and tiny skirt sat answering phones, but as I approached, she paused her conversation to fuck me with her dark brown eyes.
“Can I help you?” Her long lashes flittered against her cheeks.
“Here to see Bruno Cattaneo.”
Spreading her thick painted pink lips, she smiled. “Oh, yes, sir. I think he’s expecting you. Eli, right?”
“Yes.” Leaning over the desk, her huge tits almost fell out of her blouse while she pointed out a sitting area. Before I could find a seat, Bruno’s office door opened, and another curvy woman appeared. This one had red hair.
“Eli? Come right in.” With a wave of her hand, she motioned for me to enter.
Bruno’s office was fancy, with modern paneled walls, gleaming tiled floors, and clean white leather sofas arranged in an L-shaped pattern sitting in one corner of the room. A glass bar was in the other corner, filled to the top with liquors in colorful glass bottles, lit up by neon white lights.
A short, balding man was sitting behind a large glass table that held a fancy-looking computer, lounging back in a black leather chair with a high back. Sliding toward a low-seated, white armless chair placed in front of the table, I nodded at the redhead as she stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Perching above the seat of the chair, I spied a tiny young woman with blonde pigtails on her knees under the table. Her head bobbed up and down on Bruno’s short shaft. Five fat fingers on his right hand held her close to him, using the press of his palm to control her rhythm.
“Uh, I can come back when you’re done.” I stood, looking anywhere but at what was happening beneath the desk. My lip curled in disgust that I may catch a glimpse of Bruno’s dick.
“Nonsense. Jess, finish me off.” With a grip of her hair, Bruno forced the woman to quicken her pace. Finally, he grunted, thrusting his hips into her, and held himself there. He seemed to pump a bit of leftover cum down her throat, then patted her head as he zipped up.
Jess crawled out from under the desk and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. A pert smile greeted me as she sauntered out of the office. Settling into the seat, I wiped my palms on my jeans, hoping for no more awkward shows.
“Damn, you did supersize, Griff. Looks like you ate a gym. Did you get some juice in prison? Anyway, let’s get down to business. You remember Pete Monti?”
That wasnotwhat I expected him to say. My mind scrambled for what he could want with Essa’s father. “Yes.”
“Pete Monti, a.k.a. Peter Minsky? Pretending to be with us, but working for the Bratva the entire time?”
Stretching my neck slightly, I waited for him to reach his point. This was not something I wanted to involve myself with any longer.
“His daughter has approached us about selling her virginity in a video. How about that? We have the guy killed, and now we get to humiliate his daughter, too.” Bruno laughed maniacally. “It feels like Christmas. The boss wanted him gone for being a traitor. Now, his daughter can continue to pay his debts by doing work for us. Boss wants her spread all over the video. He thinks she’ll make us a lot of money, get us back what that prick stole. Wants a big guy to rip into her, give it to her real good.”
My stomach rolled with nausea.
“Here she is.” Bruno flipped his computer monitor around to show me. Essa had posted a few pictures of herself in a bikini for the virginity auction website. My perfect Essa, innocent, smiling, and beautiful, just ripe for these fiends to abuse.
“Ah, can see the attraction already.” He flipped the screen back. “Big guy like you, huge cock, strapping with muscles, and not an inch of skin without a tattoo. A prisoner tearing into a young, innocent little girl until she bleeds? It’ll definitely sell.”
Clenching my jaw, I regulated my breathing. I couldn’t assault him. His boss would have me evaporated in a second, and Essa would be left alone, unprotected from these assholes.
Maybe I was being played here. Did they want me gone because of that night? Was this their way of forcing me to work for them, or to take care of me? I hadn’t snitched in seven years. Why would they think I’d do it now?
“I can see you’re thinking of the prospects… We are proposing the original deflowering video, then will convince her to do some more for us. Promo pictures, of course. I’m sure she’d do well in a gang-bang or BBC after that.”
My hand came up to stroke my chin, the feel of the stubble easing my need to hit him.
“Why are you telling me all about some girl?”
