18. Emelia
18
EMELIA
1 YEAR AGO
“ D o what you have to do,” I say and drop a duffle bag full of hundred dollar bills onto the desk. The dull thud echoes through the otherwise quiet office. “I found some new leads and I want them dealt with quickly.”
He looks into the bag with a disinterested expression. “These things take time. I will, of course, need to do my own research. Confirm the intel. Only then will I make a move. How many did you find?”
I nod slowly and drop three manilla envelopes onto the desk beside the bag. “Of course. Here is the information. I’ve been watching them for a while. They’re good, but we’re better.”
He regards me with an emotionless stare. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”
I raise an eyebrow and level him with a glare. “Are you?” I counter, my tone deadly.
“Fair point well made,” he states with a thick Irish accent. He opens the first envelope, pulls out the contents and starts flipping through the pages.
“They took almost everything from me. My family is dead because of them,” I say through clenched teeth, my fists tight at my sides. I can feel the anger and anxiety rising, like it does every time I think about that night. I take a deep breath to calm myself. I’m going to have to get a grip if I want to pull this off.
“As is mine,” he reminds me softly. “Well, some of it.” He fingers through the other two packets of papers with a thoughtful expression. “How would you like to proceed?”
“You bait the trap,” I say as a slow smile creeps across my face. “I’ll finish them off.” I’m aware of how sadistic I must seem. A woman with a suitcase full of cash making deals with mob bosses, exchanging dollar bills for souls.
He nods slowly without looking up at me. “How about an inside job? You can watch them closely, figure out how you want to do it. How to make it count. I want suffering. I want pain. I want begging for lives.” His voice has a low edge to it as he finishes. My skin prickles from the venom in his voice.
“That is my specialty,” I state and clap my hands together. “It’s settled then. You lead them to me. I don’t care what you have to do. I’ll make sure they don’t make it out of the Black Crown alive.”
“Deal,” he says and holds out his hand. I wrap my fingers firmly around his and shake, sealing their fate. “Your Godfather would be so proud,” he says with a smirk. “He taught you so well.”
I nod and bite the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my emotions from ripping me apart. Some wounds never heal, and it seems that the holes my family left in my heart are the worst ones. “Thank you. I’ll be seeing you,” I call over my shoulder as I turn and walk away, knowing I’ve just sealed the fates of three more souls.
“Goodbye, my little Banshee,” he calls after me, and another grin splits my face as I disappear down the hall.
Never have I felt more like an Angel of Death than I do in this very moment.
“Change of plans,” I say as I walk into the room, my heels clicking against the tiled floor. “Some new information has come to light and I would like to propose some amendments to our current course of action.” My voice is stern, leaving no room for arguments. Not with this. I turn and look at the faces in the room.
Hector leans against the wall next to the closed door. His eyes never leave mine as I tilt my chin up and continue. “It has come to my attention that some of my information is outdated and incorrect.”
Tobias leans forward and places his elbows on the table. “What kind of information? Can you trust the sources?”
I pull my gaze away from Hector’s and my stomach dips. Can I actually trust these sources? “I’m choosing to trust them.” I’m not treating this like some miscommunication, grudge-holding, stomach-churning romance novel. “And that’s why I’m changing the plans.” I refuse to second guess my gut and churn this information in my mind like a fucking washing machine.
“Alright,” Tobias leans back and ushers me to continue.
“I finally have a name,” I tell them and brace my open palms on the table. “Cabrera.”
Hector visibly tenses and Tobias chokes on a cough. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” I respond without a smile. “My sources say that the Cabrera Cartel is the one who planned the explosions and the fire.”
“I fucking knew it,” Hector hisses under his breath.
“These wouldn’t be the same sources you’ve hired me to kill, now would it?” A thick accent draws my attention to the other side of the table.
I stand tall and tilt my chin defiantly as I stare down at the Irishman. “That brings us to the topic of today’s meeting,” I say without batting an eye at him. “That order no longer stands.”
“Is that so?” he asks with raised brows. “Pray tell what could have caused such a change of heart? Do they fuck that good?”
Hector slams his palm down on the table next to Mr. O’Leary. “Enough,” he growls low in his throat. Tobias leans forward with his hand hidden under his suit jacket, grasping his firearm no doubt.
I clear my throat and wait for the three men to stop having a pissing contest and focus back on me. “Actually, they do fuck quite well,” I say without batting an eye. I level him with a deadpan look. “My favorite position is when they have all my holes filled at one time. I literally choke on cock.”
Tobias looks away in horror and Hector smirks behind the Irishman. Samuel glares at me for a few seconds before a wide grin splits his face, revealing a gold upper canine. That piece of mouthwear is new, but I don’t make a comment. “Well played,” he commends me.
“Any other questions?” I ask before dropping down into a seat.
“I need a lobotomy,” Tobias murmurs and rubs his face with his hands. “Someone put a bullet through my frontal lobe. I can’t live with that image.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “Lay off the boys. I’ll find a way to tell them the truth without getting us all killed. Besides, I still need Silas to track the Cartel.”
Tobias turns to face me. “Silas?” Then he looks at Samuel. “I thought you took care of that one.”
“Apparently, he’s made of more fire retardants than we thought,” he says with a shrug. “I didn’t expect him to walk away from that crash.”
My stomach does a sickening drop at the thought of the original plan. I have to physically will myself not to feel guilty. We didn’t know that they weren’t a part of the bigger scheme.
I thought they were the reason my parents were dead.
That they were the cause of the fire.
That they were the root of all my problems.
Turns out I was very wrong, and now I’m struggling to come to terms with the fact that I’m attached to them and also tried to kill them.
“He came home recently and has been recovering in silence. We didn’t want to make it public because, at this point, we don’t know who to trust,” Hector says. He’s taken up leaning against the wall again, looking bored. He always hates meetings.
“You’ve been keeping secrets, my little Banshee.” Samuel steeples his fingers in front of his face and smiles again. “What did you have in mind?”
“I want to hunt down the head of the Cartel and gut him like a fish,” I state simply, like it’s the most obvious answer in the room. “I plan on having Silas get a location, and then we’ll go in and take him out. Don’t worry,” I meet the Irishman’s eyes, “I haven’t forgotten your stipulations of the deal. Suffering, pain, and begging for lives.”
He chuckles and looks over at Tobias. “You have your hands full with this one.”
Tobias, still rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, chuckles wryly. “You have no idea.”
“How do you plan on telling them the real truth?” Hector asks from his place on the wall. His eyes bore into mine and I swear I feel him reaching into my soul. “Over dinner? I could see that going really well. ‘Oh yes, please pass the potatoes. Oh, and by the way, I tried to murder you several times and almost got away with one of them, but apparently the Kennedys are indestructible.’ Seems like appropriate dinner conversation,” Hector chuckles under his breath and runs a hand across his bald head.
“Actually,” I say as an idea blooms to life in my mind. I smile at the three of them, and the look on my face must be terrifying because they all lean back in concern. “I think I have the perfect idea. It’ll be fun!”
“Like I said, your hands are full,” Mr. O’Leary chuckles again and stands. “Am I to be a part of these shenanigans?”
“I think I’ll just need a few of your men. Mainly ones you aren’t attached to. I can’t promise no one will be shot.” My mind bounces from idea to idea, trying to piece together the chaotic images in my mind as I think this through.
Tobias stands and shakes hands with Mr. O’Leary. “Thanks for coming. I’ll let you know the details once they’ve been fleshed out. She usually takes a while when she gets like this.”
Their voices grow faint as they exit the room, leaving me to my musing. I look up once and find Hector waiting quietly by the door. I stand and pace back and forth, dragging my fingers through my hair. “If I do this… Maybe… And then they could… No… But he could… And then maybe we all could… No, that won’t work. If we do it here…Then he’ll be… And they could…” I mutter continuously under my breath for several more minutes until I feel two arms snake around my waist.
“I smell something burning. You should probably stop before you set the place on fire,” Hector murmurs in my ear. I shiver as his warm breath tickles my skin.
I turn in the circle of his arms and beam up at him. “I have an idea,” I repeat slowly.
“I’m almost afraid to ask. When you get that glazed over look in your eyes and that specific smile, I usually end up covered in blood and out until 3 a.m. burying bodies.”
I mean, he’s not wrong.
“No bodies to bury this time. Hopefully,” I add with a giggle. “Do you remember the Tyson Training?”
He groans loudly and drops his head back dramatically. “Not the Tyson Plan.”
I roll my eyes and slap his chest with my palm. “Come on. We haven’t done it in months! It’ll be fun!”
“You and I have very different definitions of the word ‘fun’,” he argues quietly and slips his hands into my back pockets, pulling my hips against his.
I grind my hips against his and smile as I feel his cock grow stiff behind the seam of his jeans. “Do we now?”
He nods and bites down on his lip as I palm his cock through his pants, pushing his hips forward slightly. “Don’t tease me today. Please,” he whimpers softly, and his hips jerk again.
“My poor baby,” I whisper and cup his cheek with my other hand, tracing his high cheekbone with my fingertips. I push him until he drops into a chair. “Pull them down,” I order softly, and nod at his jeans. He pulls them halfway down his hips, freeing his hard cock. “Good boy,” I praise and watch it pulse heavily.
I drop to my knees and trace my tongue along the exposed skin around his balls and up his shaft, purposefully avoiding the tip. I tease his hard flesh for several minutes, placing open mouthed kisses and heavy licks all around but never touching his head.
His hips jerk and buck against my lips, but I don’t relent my teasing. “Please,” he begs quietly as I bring him to the edge and then back away. “Please let me come.”
“You’re so handsome like this,” I whisper to him and drag my fingernails up the underside of his pulsing cock. A thick stream of precum leaks from his slit and slides down his length. I truly love seeing him this vulnerable, slumped in a chair with his knees wide, cock thick and pulsing, the head an angry shade of red and leaking precum. His chest moves quickly as his breath saws in and out of his lungs and his eyes, when they’re open, are crazed and pleading.
“Little Bird, I’m not going to make it much longer,” he complains and thrusts his hips up into my hand as I wrap my fingers around him. I still haven’t touched the head yet. I’ve been waiting for it to become so sensitive that when I do, he’ll explode.
I pump my hand up and down slowly as I lean forward and kiss him deeply. He moans loudly and his entire body jerks as I push into his mouth and brush his tongue with my own. “I want to taste you,” I whisper when I pull away and lean back to look at him. His cock throbs under my gaze and I smile.
“Oh, fuck,” he pants heavily and grips the arms of the chair so tight that his knuckles turn white. I don’t give him any time to calm himself before I envelop him with my mouth and rub my tongue across his head, dipping the tip into his slit. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck!” He cries and arches his back off the chair. His muscles tense and I feel his balls tighten.
I pull off with a pop and lick my lips. “Come on, Hector,” I say, my voice drops an octave as I look up at him through my lashes. “Paint the back of my throat with your cum. I want every single drop from you.” I suck him back in and relax my throat. My clit aches for friction, but I ignore my needs for now.
He bucks and jerks like he’s being tased, whimpering through clenched teeth. “Holy shit. Fuck.. I… Emelia…” he pants out loudly and his hands find my hair. He wraps his fingers through my locks and grips me tightly as he begins to thrust his hips upward, fucking my throat.
Tears sting my eyes as I swallow around his thick length. He hits the back of my throat and groans loudly. I want to praise him, give him encouragement because he’s doing so well, but my mouth is obviously preoccupied. My core throbs around nothing, aching to be filled, but this is about him.
“Shit, shit, shit. I.. I uh… oh, fuck,” he groans again, and I feel him swell on my tongue as he begins to release. I swallow after every throb, milking him until he has nothing left to give me. My insides coil and I swear I could orgasm from his sounds alone.
When I feel him begin to soften on my tongue, I pull off with a pop and sit back on my heels. His eyes find mine and widen when he sees the string of saliva and cum still connecting my lips to the head of his cock. “Holy fucking shit, that is so hot.”
I lick my lips, breaking the trail of fluid and grin up at him. “So, about my idea…”
“Did you just bribe me with a blowjob?” Hector chuckles and tucks himself back into his pants.
“Did it work?”
“Fuck yes it did. I’ll do anything you want as long as that happens again later.”
I smile and let him pull me up. “That’s a deal. Though, I can’t promise who will be on their knees in front of you,” I say coyly, and strut out of the room, leaving a floundering Hector behind to prepare for our new plan.