07 ♠ DESIRE

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Ford

WILLIAM ROYALLY FUCKED THINGS UP.

And Genevieve, of course, has to be the type of girl who favours eavesdropping into conversations that are better left private. Fuck sake. Luckily, she'd missed out on the earlier part of the discussion that featured specific details of William's clusterfuck, but she didn't fucking miss her name being mentioned in accordance with Iesha's, and Jax alluding to the fact that Jeremiah has a girl too.

William is impulsive, and that trait is something that will get him killed one day. Once he squandered away half a million dollars in one single fucking night at a casino downtown, and if elite members of Red Alert catch wind of that recklessness, there'll be repercussions. If a member loses their money through a staggering gambling addiction or drinking their nights away, they are promptly banished from both Red Alert and Westville. They're then forced to have their tattoo removed.

If William's propositioned with an incredibly good offer, he'll accept it immediately, even if he isn't aware of any terms and conditions or the ramifications. Without question, and without any rumination, he'll accept the fucking deal. And that's his weakness. One of his weaknesses, actually, to be more precise.

Being banished from Red Alert is something that William can't afford to license happen. With his diabolical fetishes, the one thing keeping him out of prison is his protection as a Red Alert member. Having designed West Point, I divert all red flags to Red Alert cops in which they process the data and can take action accordingly by informing elite members, if necessary.

The aforementioned red flags include anything pertinent to Red Alert, anything illegal—which includes William's sickening fetishes that plague his search history—or anything suspect that's determined by a string of key words that the user will have to explicitly search for.

For instance, upon discovering someone's searched for illegal content, the cops will trace the IP address and once realizing it's pinpointed to our fucking house, they immediately know it's William and because of his Red Alert status, he remains a free fucking man. He should be rotting behind bars for his heinous crimes.

In essence, William likes his girls underage.

And he likes the girls in his online material sometimes younger, therefore searching up child pornography that the dark web is devastatingly rife with. And the illegal element of West Point, sadly. As much as I trial to endeavour to eradicate West Point's illegal partition of child pornography, it's subsequently overruled considering a lot of our Red Alert Galas feature human trafficking of marginally underage girls, though the other five of us keep ours strictly above board when we have a girl to offer.

Unless he's ever to have his membership rescinded, he will remain out of prison, free to continue to obtain illegal content and engage in his illicit crimes by not only drugging a minor, but also having sex with them too. Sometimes he chooses a girl who's seventeen—borderline underage—and other times he decides on girls who are fifteen.

He's been without a girl for a while, mercifully. But it doesn't cease me from being repulsed every time he touches me to grab my attention.

It's been a few days since the initial shock of his shitty decisions has been announced, but it's not at all sorted. Nothing out of the ordinary has occurred thus far, but I know they are just biding their time until the right moment to strike.

Ultimately, what William decided to do was run his mouth off. Since high school, there's been a group of guys—four in total—and all of them desperately want to be part of Red Alert, and they've never made that desire private. Back when we were all in high school—they're the same age as us—we weren't as smart. Collectively, none of us were smart with our decisions and behaviour.

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