Page 47 of Capuleto

Yuri, two hours earlier

Her body bounced under my impulses.

I had my lover on all fours, receiving my erection in the dark hole. It didn't matter that I had lubricated it; there was still a slight resistance to being taken, and that drove me crazy.

My palm ignited one of the buttocks while my grunts merged with theirs, a result of the force used.

I had always liked rough sex, and my lover knew how to please me.

The phone started ringing, interrupting the session.

"Don't pick it up," my lover whispered passionately. Their fingers clung tightly to the burgundy sheets.

I continued thrusting, ignoring the persistent ringtone.

I cursed and pulled my cock out of that tight sheath. I didn't like fucking with a phone ringing in the background, especially when it wouldn't stop, suggesting I was missing something important. It wasn't worth it, for a fuck that could be resumed at any moment.

The frustrated moan from my lover was quick to come. I moved aside and picked up the phone resting on the nightstand.

It was my sister's number. Nikita wouldn't call unless it was an emergency, as we had agreed.

"What's happening, Kalinka?"

My lover lay back on the bed in annoyance and propped their head on their hand, continuing to masturbate.

An accusation on the other end of the line caught my attention dramatically.

"What?! No, of course, I had nothing to do with it!" I exclaimed, caught off guard. "Tell me what happened, step by step."

That's how I found out that R was in the hospital, that someone was marketing Mentium behind my back, selling it to kids who didn’t have a clue, for some online challenge app.

The journalist's son, who had been targeting Korpe, had been the first victim.

Shit, shit, shit!

Jonás had been a great tool. I had made substantial contributions to his newspaper so that this news-hungry man would become a pest, thus hastening Nikita's decision regarding the marriage to Capulet.

At that moment, he was just a charred body who had wanted to take R and Dante by setting the club on fire.

"Calm down." My sister was agitated and very angry. I wasn't happy either. I didn't like these kinds of situations that were outside of my planning. "Let's think, maybe one of the workers is dealing with some boxes stolen from the batch you sent to be destroyed and is running their little side business. Or it might be some kid, one of those who sees an opportunity and buys outdated boxes through some classifieds website and concocts this whole mess."

"So, you're not behind it?" she asked me, hesitantly.

"Your doubt offends me."

"I don't know what to think anymore," she replied sullenly. "You tampered with the product, faked your own death for two years, and forced me to marry our biggest enemy. Understand that I might doubt you and think that you were looking for a new way to enrich yourself behind my back."

"Well, you're wrong, I don't know who it could have been, but I can try to find out."

"I'd prefer to do it myself, if you don't mind," she retorted quickly. "It's not good for you to be seen too much when you're supposed to be dead."

"Are you sure?" I insisted.

"Yes, I know what I need to do and whose doors to knock on."

"Alright, but keep me informed, I don't like others playing with what's mine."

If I could have seen my sister's expression through the phone, I would have noticed her grimace of displeasure at my words. After a quick goodbye, claiming she needed to go to the station to give a statement, she hung up the call.

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