Page 53 of Make Me A Sinner
It takes barely half an hour before Whiro gets hungry. Of course, he’s hungry. It’s just another way of him torturing me.
I have no other choice but to ask one of my men to get him the Chinese food he’s rambling about. At least he seems to make Serena feel less stressed. Not that she bothers me—it’s normal for her to handle the pressure of these kind of events differently—but she says dumb shit when she’s stressed, and that does bother me. My mind has to be in the game right now.
The hours pass like weeks, especially with Whiro slurping that damn milkshake for the past fifty minutes. And he’s not alone. He got Serena one too, and together they’re making some kind of weird unholy milkshake symphony.
Right when I’m ready to kill them both, my inside man finally calls to give me the green light.
Chen's office has just been marked off-limits, and almost everyone else has cleared out. It’s just the guards that we have to deal with.
I look at my watch—4 a.m.; so, this is what real torture feels like.
On a snap decision, I tell my guy to still use a few of the smoke bombs, but this time near the smoke machine. Let everyone think the fucking shit’s busted.
The stench will clear the place out and give us enough cover to handle the guards with no civilian casualties.
I let Whiro in on the change of plan as soon as I got off the phone. Then alert the rest of my crew to get into position.
My brother insists on leading the op and taking out the guards—which translates into him wanting to be the one doing thekilling. I can live with that as long as he lets me have Chen. Fine by me. If he handles the rest, I can take Serena along to watch me finish Chen.
Whiro might be certifiable, but he’s a pro, and everything goes off without a hitch.
By the time Serena and I step inside, people are already pouring out of the club, coughing and cursing the poor management. We’ve got tear gas masks to avoid breathing that crap in. And by when we reach the hallway leading to Chen’s office, everything’s handled and Whiro’s already watching the perimeter, grinning like he just aced a test. “You have the honor,” he says, gesturing me toward the office. Two guards lie dead by the door, but the music’s still blasting, so Chen hasn’t even noticed.
Or maybe he did, and he’s expecting us on the other side.
I motion for Serena to get behind me, I’m not putting her at any risk whatsoever, and my body is more than enough to stop any stray bullet. Not that Chen will get a chance to fire—even if he’s waiting for us.
I’m about to kick the door in when Whiro casually twists the knob and swings the damn thing open. The stupid bastard thought he was so well guarded, he didn’t even bother to lock it.
And I instantly see why.
We find him leaning over the desk, pounding into the stripper my guy mentioned. She’s sprawled beneath him, tits bouncing against his desk, palms gripping the edges, her red wig almost falling. He still thrusts inside her a few more times before registering what’s happening. And by the time he does, my gun’s aimed straight at his head.
But when he turns, I realize that’s not Chen. It’s Xuan, his right hand. The bastard who handles all the dirty work for him.
Fuck!
“Don’t,” I snap, knowing he’s gonna try something while the girl pinned to the table lets out a scream.
“Shut it,” Whiro growls, warning her not to make another sound. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t shot her already. But I quickly find out exactly why. “Don’t kill him, yet,” my brother says, his gun still focused on them. “Let the man have his last pleasure,” he gestures toward the bastard to go on fucking the girl.
I pause, finger still on the trigger. And yeah, the sadistic part of me agrees with my brother. Let the man have his fun, knowing he’s going to die balls-deep in someone he probably had to pay for. No money in the world can make you less of a loser if that’s in your DNA.
Xuan freezes, shock written all over his face. The same shock that leaves him motionless for a few moments, before my brother barks, “Move!”
Xuan still pauses for a second or so, but then starts thrusting again, fucking the stripper. The bastard probably thinks he’ll still have a shot to live if he does what he’s told and keeps going, or just wants to stall, hoping Chen’s men will bail him out. Well, surprise, no one’s coming to save him.
“Is this really necessary?” Serena’s voice breaks from behind me, and it only makes me draw her closer so she can have a front row at this.
“Very,” Whiro answers while his eyes are locked at the woman’s tits.
Oh, grow the fuck up.
Xuan’s still moving inside her, and I suspect he wasn’t doing a great job in normal conditions, but this looks like a fucking disaster. Still, my brother’s a psycho—this shit probably turns him on. So I let him have his fun. Call it his reward for helping me with this. Plus, it makes the whole scene more intense, and the lesson I’m gonna teach Serena that more real.
Xuan keeps jolting his hips, the desk, almost skidding across the room.
Several minutes later, and still no climax. This shit’s getting boring AND hard to watch. The bastard’s ugly as fuck and his moves are so all over the place, I actually could feel sorry for him. But before I’m the one to put a stop to this, Xuan collapses, spent—his half-hard dick slipping out as he slumps over the girl.
