𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 pooled at the eyes of the seductress in front of me.
❝You still hate me?❞ The poison in my heart moaned as I bottomed out in her, her wetness tightening around me.
❝Of course I do- fuck! Right there!❞ She crie...
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𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 "𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦" 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐞
The last thing I thought I would be doing on this trip is getting ready for a party, let alone attending a birthday celebration.
I scan over my outfit, being able to pick something from the extensive wardrobe some workers came in with after my encounter with the eye candy of a boss.
I fix the collar to my pale blue button-up, the theme tonight being everything but black. I tug on the short sleeves to ensure that there are no wrinkles and send myself a curt nod, heading out of the bathroom.
I walk out of the room, feeling a sense of unpreparedness with having no phone, wallet, keys, or gun.
I huff and walk out my "bedroom's" door, not forgetting to slam it on my way out, frightening the two older women standing near my room's entrance.
I walk down the romantically lit corridors, the sun has fully set, and the time on the large clock I'm walking past reads 10:45 pm.
It takes me a couple of minutes to reach the entrance of the palace, and I know if I had my Apple Watch on, I would be weirdly happy about the number of steps I do daily here.
Deadpaning at the soldiers guarding the door, they let me through, their tough gaze matching my own.
In the midst of our staring match, I hear the car honk, snapping my neck to the vehicle to know who would dare honk at me.
Oh.
"Let's go, shithead, I'm ready to have some fun- I mean business, I'm ready to handle business." Dimitri smiles, slightly coughing after correcting himself.
In the vehicle, it's just myself and him, along with the driver whose eyes have never left the road in front of him.
"You never told me your thoughts on the royal family," Dimitri pipes up, turning his head to look my way.
"And I'm still not going to tell you, especially with the John Doe here," I say, nodding my head to the man in front of us. He looked around my age range, but with what I've seen going on here, he's most likely a teenager.
I don't know how I feel about a teenager driving us to our destination right now, but I digress.
"We'll talk about that later" I say while eyeing the driver, "I do have my opinions though." I whisper, trying to get comfortable in the seat.
The Mercedes-Benz truck sports an all-black interior and exterior with executive tinted windows, and not a single soul is able to see inside this truck.
It didn't take long until our door was opened for us, a young man escorting us into the venue to the small get-together.
My eyes scan the interior and I roll my eyes, never able to escape the treacheries of night life.
