It was shortly after midnight and the chilly air hardened Vanessa’s nipples. Only a thin tank top covered her luscious tits. She began biting her lip, one hand holding the cigarette while the other cupped a boob, squeezing tightly. Shaking her head, she controlled herself. She wasn’t desperate for, but this sexual drought had been active for weeks now.
She finished the cigarette, stubbed it out on the concrete frame of the balcony and flicked it over. Going back inside, her mind travelled to her mother and the reasons why she dashed to London out of all places. Usually Eleanor would have invited her for business trips, but by the gesture not being extended this time, she assumed it was more of a private and sensitive matter.
Vanessa sighed, dropping onto the bad and reaching for her phone. She had a trillion notifications. Being the daughter of famous people made her popular among her own generation, which meant a lot of followers on several of the biggest social media platforms. She was constantly featured in online magazines and news, bombarded with fake news unreliable information. She found humour in how easy it was to manipulate society at large when they heard what they wanted, and believed what they liked. Now Vanessa was an icon, with many people looking up to her, desiring her and ultimately leading to having her own entourage. But she never cared for the materialistic and superficial life. What Vanessa sough was meaning. Whether that came from the line of work she would do in her life, or from family or a certain person, it did not matter to her. All she wanted was to have a purpose.
Her mind wandered to her father and deciding to check up on him, she got up from her comfortable and warm bed, her nipples erecting slowly from the cool air, and trudging to Mario’s office downstairs. The heave wood door was shut, as usual, and she knocked strongly three times before hearing a “Yes?” from inside. She put momentum into pushing the door open and entered the large office.
As a kid she used to enjoy spending time in this room. She used to look up at the endless documents, the hundreds of books and the secret meeting held in here. It was the professional life documented through young Vanessa’s eyes. Now an adult, the perspective changed. She knew that this was less of her father’s office and more of her mother’s.
“Hi dad, just wanted to check in and wondered if you needed anything?”
Vanessa leaned against the doorframe, playing with her hair and the movement causing her firm tits to bounce a little. Her booty shorts did not leave anything to the imagination either.
The moment Mario laid eyes on his daughter, he firmly choked on the tea he was sipping and his eyes bulged, among another thing. He could feel his inner dog coming out at the mere presence of the erotic woman that was his daughter.
Mario recovered, taking another sip from the tea before answering with a hoarse voice. “All good here.”
Vanessa frowned in irritation. Why was her father acting strange? She dismissed the thoughts, nodded at her father and pulled the door shut again, trailing back to her room.
Mario’s face was flushed, his body temperature rising and his breathing heavy. Sweat pearls formed on his forehead and were quickly spreading, expanding their journey. He glanced down underneath the large desk and between his legs, there was the Serbian prostitute, licking his cock like a good girl, her breasts out and within reach for him to grab and play with.
Her name was Mila, last name unknown and she was bought for several hundreds of dollars, racking in profits over a grand a night. She was more than worth the money spent and the headache she came with. After the initial meeting with her, Mario knew she was going to get popular really quickly, and it was true. Within a month she was the most beloved whore around town. People even tried booking nights in advance. There just was something about Mila that made men go crazy, just like Mario was right now as she began licking the tip of his dick.
“Oh Jesus.” Mario groaned, his head hanging back from pleasure.
Vanessa heard her father curse but didn’t think anything of it as she bounced back up the stairs and disappeared into her room. She felt empty inside and reached for the pack of cigarettes again, pulling one out and opened the sliding door open to the balcony of her room. She loved that she had a little private balcony with a nice view. She began smoking and thought how lonely she truly was when her mother was not around. She wasn’t just her mother, she was her best friend, and right now she missed her.
Glancing at the black screen of her phone, an idea struck her and she swiftly unlocked it. The wheels in her head were getting ready to jump gears, her face a confident smirk. She found the soonest flight to London, booked it without even noticing the price, and felt the excitement rushing through her body and overshadowing the emptiness she felt earlier. Vanessa finished the cigarette quicker this time, and went back inside in order to begin packing her getaway.
**
New York City, USA
**
Vincent Amani sat in his Cadillac, sipping on vodka straight from the bottle. He was already drunk, now it was just an issue of maintaining this level of fucked. Behind the sunglasses, his eyes were bloodshot and he had eye bags. He looked way older than his actual 25 years. In the passenger seat was a brunette. That’s all he knew about her and what he called her by. He didn’t care for names, as long as she knew who he was and what he could do to her if she slipped and her teeth came in contact with his dick, then no further words needed to get exchanged. After all, he was paying this overpriced bitch a grand an hour, so she better be worth it, he thought and glanced down as she was bobbing on his angry prick. Her warmness felt amazing and the way she sucked in her cheeks to give him ultimate pleasure was great and he could feel the climax coming.
His eyes looked up at the movement of a body. Squinting, he saw the woman he was stalking, dressed in denim shorts, a snug t-shirt that complimented her curves and slim body, with a suitcase rolling behind her. She looked like the perfect American girl. But when he observed the suitcase being taken from her by the driver and was loaded into the trunk, while she slipped into the backseat, he became angry. Grabbing the brunette by her hair and forcefully pulling her head up, the poor girl screaming from pain, he smacked her hard against the face and dashed her across the other side to the passenger seat.
“Where the fuck does this bitch think she’s going?” Vincent’s words were filled with passionate anger, his face boiling.
He gripped the steering wheel, his palms covered in ink. On his left hand, he had the word ‘Devil’ tattooed on his fingers, on his right the word ‘Death’.
Jocelyn, the brunette who until up a few seconds ago thought she was pleasing Vincent, was sniffling silently, holding the side of her sensitive face that was hit. Everything happened so fast that the pain caught up with her after the adrenaline disappeared. Once the pain lessened, the anger took its peak place and she glared at the man who had hit her. The woman beater. Scum. She knew better than to act rash, if she waited, her opening will come and the revenge she was already plotting would be sweet and slow, because he might be the one with the vile tattoos, but she was the really fucked up one.
As soon as the S-Class sped off, Vincent made a phone call to someone he referred to as ‘The Tracker’. The one person in his family who was given the responsibility of taking care of any relevant information due to his incredible hacking skills. Rumours have it he was a whiz kid, a child genius that refused Harvard because he thought education was a scam.
“Boss.”
Vincent liked that. No unnecessary greetings, just straight to the point. Danny the Tracker just graduated a credit level in Vincent’s books.
“I have a job for you.”
“Shoot.”
Vincent glanced in the distance, the car now barely visible. “I need you to find out where Vanessa Vicenti is going.”
He expected an answer straight away, but when he was met with silence, irritation mixed with his pre-existing anger.
“Are you still fucking there?”
He heard Danny clear his throat. “Yeah. No problem, but do you really want that?”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Vincent spat, his face scrunched up in annoyance.
“I mean, she’s a Vicenti. We open that door and we get busted, it means a whole load of anger not only from them, but also from our Don.”
Vincent palmed his forehead. “Listen dickhead, she is my wife. I have the fucking right to know where the fuck she is going at all motherfucking times. Do you hear me?”
Silence again. This just annoyed Vincent even more and not bothered to deal with this shit any longer, he simply hung up, cursing Danny for few more minutes as he started the engine of the Cadillac and put it into drive.
Without looking, he reached for the head of the brunette and pulled it to his lap, his instructions clear despite the lack of words. Jocelyn quickly accommodated and began licking his limp dick, her mind however was on the conversation she just witnessed. It contained information that could deem powerful and very lucrative in the future, so she made sure to keep the exchange in her head in case the opportunity arose to do something with it.
“Oh yeah, keep sucking slut.” Vincent moaned and reached for one of her tits.