I rested for two days—way less than the doctor ordered. He wanted a week of bed rest, monitoring, and flushing the thallium out slowly. But I couldn't stay still. Not with Elena's texts piling up. Not with the poison still crawling under my skin like tiny bugs. My apartment felt small. Safe but empty. Too quiet. I needed noise, a little distraction, a plan.
Yesterday Robert called, his voice was smug right away. "Finally ready to talk, Lys?"
I hated him. Hated the way he said my name like he owned it. But I needed this over. Done. So I could go back to the mansion tonight. Face Elena. Get Victor alone. Tell him his wife was trying to kill me. Take him—hard, desperate—prove he was mine.
"Meet me tomorrow," I said. "My place. 1:30. Lunch break."
He laughed low. "Wear something nice. Impress me."
" impress you?"
I hung up fuming, but heat pooled low in my belly anyway.
I needed cock. So badly
Victor's cock, really, but i think Robert's would do for now, I just have to fuck his brains out, Give him what he wants and end his blackmail bullshit.
This morning I prepared for war. I showered slowly. Shaved everything smoothly, Lotion everywhere—scented, silky. Slipped into the red lingerie I'd bought months ago and never worn. Lace bra cupping my tits high, nipples already hard against the fabric. Matching thong—thin string riding up my ass. Garters. Stockings. Red heels.
I looked in the mirror. Hair loose and wild. Lips painted blood red. Eyes dark with liner.
Slutty. Powerful.
Ready to destroy him.
1:30 sharp a knock came at the door. I opened it. Robert stood there in his suit, tie loose, smirk on his face. "Hey, Lys. Looking good—"
I didn't let him finish. I pounced on him. Grabbed his tie. Yanked him inside. Slammed the door. Pushed him against it hard.
My mouth crashed on his. Hungry. Angry. Teeth biting his lip. Tongue forcing in.
He groaned, surprised, his hands grabbed my ass instantly.
I ground against him. Felt him harden fast through his pants.
"Fuck the talk," I growled against his mouth. "You want this? Take it."
I dropped to my knees right there in the hallway. Ripped his belt open. Zipper down. Pulled his cock out—thick, already leaking.
Not Victor's. But hard. Hot. Enough.
I took him deep. No teasing. Throat open. Sucked hard, cheeks hollow, tongue swirling the head. Salty pre-cum coated my mouth. He moaned loud, hand fisting my hair.
"Jesus, Lys…"
I bobbed fast. Gagging on purpose. Loving the stretch. Spit dripping down my chin onto my tits.
But in my head? Victor.
Victor's cock. Thicker. Longer. The way it hit the back of my throat and made my eyes water.
I pulled off gasping,I stood up . Shoved Robert toward the couch.
"Strip."
He did—fast, clumsy. Suit jacket tossed. Shirt buttons popping.
I pushed him down naked. Straddled him.
Red thong pulled aside. Pussy already soaked—dripping down my thighs.
I sank into him slowly. Inch by inch. Stretching. Filling him.
He groaned deeply, his hands grabbed my hips hard enough to bruise.
I started riding his hard cock.
Hard.
Fast.
Ass slapping against his thighs. Tits bouncing in the lace bra.
Every thrust—I was thinking of Victor.
Victor's hands on me. Victor's growl in my ear. Victor's cock owning me.
I ground my clit against him. Chased the friction. Moaned loud—real moans, filthy.
"Fuck me," I gasped. "Harder."
Robert thrust up, desperate. Sweaty. Grunting like an animal.
I leaned back, hands on his knees, riding wild. Pussy clenching around him. Juices soaking his balls.
He sat up suddenly. Flipped me onto the couch. Ass up.
Yanked the thong down. Spread my cheeks.
Then his tongue—hot, wet—on my ass.
Licking. Circling. Pushing in.
I cried out. Pushed back. Fingers digging into cushions.
God, yes.
Victor never did this enough. But Robert—hungry, sloppy, eating me like he was starving.
Tongue fucking my ass. Fingers sliding into my pussy. Curling. Hitting that spot.
I came hard. Suddenly. Shaking. Pussy gushing on his hand.
But I wasn't done.
I turned. Pushed him back down.
Straddled again. Sank on his cock reverse.
Rode him facing away. Ass bouncing. His hands spreading my thighs.
I was thinking, Victor's cock, Victor's balls, Victor's lips
" oouu fuck"
I came again—harder. Screaming.
Robert followed—groaning loud, spilling deep inside me.
Hot. Thick.
I collapsed forward. Breathing heavily. Body slick with sweat.
For a minute—just pleasure. Release.
Then reality slammed back.
This was Robert.
Not Victor.
And I'd just fucked him senseless to shut him up.
I rolled off. Lay there panting.
He grinned lazily. "Damn, Lys. Worth the wait."
I didn't smile.
I needed him gone.
I needed to shower again.
I needed to go back to the mansion tonight.
To Victor.
To Elena.
To the truth.
I was still catching my breath, mind already racing ahead—how I'd
return to the mansion, find Victor, tell him everything, take him right there if I had to. When the door slammed open,banging against the wall.
" Victor"
Standing in the doorway, with his eyes wild open.
Face drained of color, staring at me—naked, sweaty, legs spread.
At Robert—cock still half-hard, cum leaking out of me.
My pussy still on display.
Everything froze.
Air sucked out of the room.
Victor's mouth opened. No sound.
I couldn't move.
Couldn't cover.
Couldn't breathe.
This wasn't the plan.
He'd see me like this—a cheap whore. Fucking his assistant. Betraying him too.
I was damned.
Completely.
Victor's hand shook. He held a box—small, wrapped neatly.
"Elena…" His voice cracked. "Elena asked me to bring you this. You've been ignoring our calls."
He dropped the box on the floor.
Turned.
Ran.
The door slammed behind him.
Robert sat up slowly. "Uh… guess my break's over."
He stood. Showered quickly. Dressed faster.
Left without a word.
The door clicked shut.
I sat there naked. Cum drying on my thighs. My heart shattered.
Why me?
Why always me?
I crawled to the box. Opened it with numb fingers.
Inside—a photo.
Me and Elena. Kids. Arms around each other. Smiling big at some birthday.
On the back, in her neat handwriting:
Blood is thicker than water.
My throat closed.
Why send this?
Why now?
Why send Victor?
Was she watching?
Working with Robert?
Laughing while I fell apart?
I curled on the floor.
Tears came hot. Silent.
I was losing it.
Slow.
But sure.
Therapy.
That's what I needed.
Real therapy.
Before I broke completely.
I sat there for a long time, naked on the floor, clutching the photo like it could still save me.
Blood is thicker than water.
My phone buzzed.
I flinched so hard it nearly slipped from my hand.
One message.
Elena:
Did Victor give you my gift?
My stomach dropped.
Another message came before I could breathe.
Elena:
You look beautiful in red.
Ice flooded my veins.
She knew.
She'd always known.
The door.
Victor's face.
The timing.
Robert.
This wasn't chaos.
It was choreography.
I stared at the screen, shaking, realization crashing down on me in sickening waves.
She hadn't tried to kill me.
She'd tried to break me.
And she was winning.
Somewhere across the city, Victor was running—from me, from the truth, from everything we'd burned together.
And Elena?
She was waiting.
Smiling.
Already planning what I would lose next.
I stood slowly, my legs were weak, my heart was hammering.
Because whether I went back to the mansion…
or stayed away forever…
One thing was certain now.
The war had begun.
And this time— I am not backing down without making Victor claim me.