Page 3 of A Stolen Christmas

Sirah Taylor.

Fucking, Mrs Sirah Taylor.

I reached for my phone since she was facing the doors. With my app up and Bluetooth on, it wasn't difficult to capture a few details from her phone since her connection was open-ended. She was as bad as Katya by leaving her Bluetooth settings on ‘discoverable to others’ mode.

She was mumbling something under her breath and poked her floor button again. I almost smiled because it wouldn't get her to her destination any faster. Our office was on the 50th floor, and she was eight floors below me.

As more people stopped the elevator, the closer, I shuffled behind her. I could smell the floral scent from her hair, but more importantly, I could complete my access to her phone. Katya left Seth this morning, and all it took was for Seth to neglect her. I leaned down and inhaled the scent of Sirah’s perfume.

No.Not all marriages were meant to last.

Chapter 2

Saul

August

At the date of Sirah’s fractured arm last June, there were messages to and from her friend Sonia confirming that her husband had pushed her as she was walking away from him. I trawled back through all her correspondence, but I could only find this one incident of violence. Who knew what took place behind closed doors? She had assured her friend that it had only happened one time.

We used Garrison occasionally when we needed to do a deep dive search into people. This could be from clients to employees. He was officially our solicitor, Warner’s employee, but he freelanced for us. He had provided me with someone to watch the husband while I took my sweet time observing Sirah every moment I could. The additional spyware I had planted on Sirah’s phone gave me real-time information.

She had no idea that Ryan was quite the lady's man, but all that would change within weeks. I knew everyone called me fuckboy behind my back, but marriage was a serious commitment. Her cock sucker of a husband had zero respect for Sirah or their marriage. The woman had quite the social calendar to keep herself busy while her philandering husband was away and somehow managed to find time to volunteer with a charity.

Ryan Taylor didn't deserve someone as special as Sirah Okira. I zoomed in on her smiling face. My taste in women was vast. Age, size, and race never mattered to me. It was the raw, animalistic chemistry that usually prompted my interest, but this woman caught me with a glare before she promptly dismissed me from her existence. Everything about her called to me.

I’d spent hour after hour reviewing her photos, videos, social media posts, messages, and emails. I listened to her calls to hear her voice. Her voice was soft and full of life, with a bright, bubbly burst of positivity in almost every conversation.

I was addicted, and as an addict, I craved more.

Late at night, I lay in bed imagining our future interactions and, eventually, our life together. I would play her videos or listen to her voice recordings to fall asleep. Every morning I woke up forlorn with a rock-hard cock and nowhere to bury it.

I would see her in person tonight since her husband was at another weekend ‘work’ conference. To my knowledge, I had never fucked a married woman and judging by her character, she wouldn't have an extramarital encounter.

If Warner and Lillian played their part, then I would have my girl divorced and in time for Christmas. In the meantime, I would need to remain patient and take what I could get.

All the players were on the board, and every piece of my plan fell into place.

∞∞∞

I checked her fridge to see how much water she had drunk since I crushed the maximum-strength sleeping pills into it. I would need to replace the water before I left. Lillian managed to get a key for their house cut for me. Taylor saw two women on the side, and neither knew about the other. Lillian was my plant who would make Taylor’s life implode. The fucking audacity of the cunt to add a third woman on the side would be his undoing.

The fact that he was willing to involve a fourth woman in his life was good news for me because it meant he wouldn’t be fucking Sirah. With a smile, I closed the fridge door and went upstairs. The hallway light downstairs was left on, so there was enough light for me to make my way to her bedroom.

I paused at the door and slipped my balaclava on. There was no point in taking any additional risks. If she managed to wake up and see me, the jig would be up. My heart was racing as I slowly opened her door to stick my head in. The room was dark and silent, but when she didn't move, I opened the door and walked inside.

I picked up the stool next to her dresser and walked towards the bed with it. It had been twenty-eight days since the morning in the lift, and this was the first time I managed to get close to her again. She lay on her side and faced the edge of the bed. I took my phone out of my pocket and snapped a few pictures of her sleeping face.

I’d spent hours going through her personal effects. I took a ring and some underwear as mementoes. When I found her wedding album, I wanted to scratch his face off, but I managed to keep my focus on Sirah and her family. Taylor's mother wasn't happy about the wedding. It was written all over her face, and several pictures showed her sour expression directed towards Sirah. It made me think of my mum’s conduct towards my sister-in-law, Katya.

Sirah looked like her mum, but there were glimpses of her father in her, too. He had darker skin, but his wife had lighter skin like Sirah. I followed all of her family’s social media accounts. It was strategic. Knowing them well enough to endear myself to them when the time came. It was essential for our children to embrace their African heritage, especially in such troubling times.

Her older brother was independent, but Sirah seemed to have a loving relationship with him. I smiled, thinking of Seth. Luckily, he was so focused on making amends with Katya that he stayed out of my business.

I rubbed the back of my two fingers along her soft cheek. Her skin was warm, and I leaned over to breathe in her scent. I couldn't smell her alluring perfume since she had a shower after coming back from work, but the smell of her shampoo was enough for me. I closed my eyes to immerse myself in the light floral scent, remembering the moment her furious eyes met mine—the brown, amber and hint of green in those bewitching eyes.

My eyes snapped open as a wicked thought occurred to me. I touched her soft curls before I rubbed them between my thumb and fingers. She would be asleep until morning, and I would leave my mark on her. Every time she washed her body or her hair, she would do so using my cum. The vision of Sirah rubbing my cum tainted body wash into her pussy made my dick twitch.

I stood up and entered the bathroom, switching the hall light on the way there. There had been a glass in the bathroom earlier, and I would need it. Once I had washed it out several times to ensure none of Ryan’s impurities were on it, I returned to my sleeping beauty. I carefully put the glass on the table and eased Sirah onto her back.

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