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"I'm a fuckin' prince. You'd be so lucky..." Franco said quietly, but I heard him loud and clear. For someone so noisy, he could be quiet when he wanted to be.
I scuttled around in the dark in the Docks trial, trying to pinpoint exactly where Franco was. The only thing I had to go off was his heavy breathing. Occasionally, he fired the shotgun he'd lovingly named Lupara at something he heard, but the echoes made it difficult to determine his exact location. An alarm went off, and I heard the screech of the Pitcher somewhere above me, signaling that another Ex-Pop entered the trial.
"Goddamnit. I really hate that guy," I mumbled under my breath as I watched the Pitcher walk off the opposite direction I was going. Thank God, I thought, breathing a soft sigh of relief as I continued to cautiously navigate the dark, relying on my instincts to avoid detection.
"Also, you named your shotgun Lupara? Seriously? That's a bit dramatic, even for you, Franco," I whispered to myself, trying to suppress a chuckle. It was a little funny. But in the midst of danger, humor was a welcome distraction. I shook my head and focused on the task at hand, determined to survive this trial no matter what.
The Wolf. Ha. You really do take this whole Italian mobster persona seriously. Then again, you are the son of one, I thought, shaking my head as I focused on finding a way out of the dangerous situation. The sound of footsteps grew louder, and I knew I had to act quickly to avoid being caught by the Ex-Pop lurking in the shadows.
With each passing moment, the tension in the air grew thicker, making it even more challenging to anticipate Franco's next move. All I needed to do was stash the contraband, and then I could finally make my escape from this hellhole. The thought of freedom fueled my determination to outsmart Franco and the other Ex-Pops, no matter the cost.
"So I like nice things. A man can't help havin' appetites," Franco called out cockily from somewhere behind me, his accented voice dripping with arrogance. What was his accent, anyway?
Boston?
New York?
I could detect the faintest hint of a Southern accent in there, adding an unexpected twist to his overall demeanor. It was both intriguing and off-putting at the same time, making me wonder if he was intentionally trying to throw me off balance with his charm.
"Fuck, I love his voice," I hissed to myself, feeling a shiver run down my spine as I continued to carefully hide the contraband. The stakes were high, but I was ready to play this dangerous game until the very end. Franco's charisma was as dangerous as it was captivating, and I knew I had to stay focused to outwit him. As I heard his footsteps approaching, my heart raced with adrenaline, knowing that my freedom depended on my next move.
I clenched my jaw, knowing that my only chance at survival was to stay one step ahead of him. I glanced over my shoulder and immediately dropped to the shadowed floor as Franco walked past, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of disobedience. As he passed, I could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on me, making my heart race with fear. I knew that my window of opportunity was closing fast, and I needed to act quickly if I wanted to escape this dangerous game alive. A burning warmth flooded my veins as I made a split-second decision to make a run for it, knowing that my life depended on it. Immediately, Franco fired his shotgun in my direction, the buckshot missing my shoulder by a hair, and I nearly squealed in surprise but I kept going.
Out of all the Ex-Pops, I had to think that Franco was the sexiest one. His blue eyes held a mysterious allure that was both captivating and terrifying. The way he moved with such confidence and authority only added to his appeal, making it clear that crossing him would have dire consequences. I even liked his engorged cranium. Props to being the son of a mafia boss, Franco had a dangerous edge that was impossible to ignore. Despite the danger, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him in a way that both thrilled and terrified me.
But still.
I couldn't deny the adrenaline rush that came with being near him, even if it meant putting myself in danger. As I sprinted away, I couldn't help but wonder if Franco would be the one to catch me in the end.
"Come back here! I'm gonna drink you like a fuckin' milkshake!" Franco hollered from behind me. All of a sudden, I screeched to a halt, an idea forming in my head.
Milkshake? I wondered as I glanced down at my tits.
"Why'd you stop runnin'?" Franco asked in confusion, his voice much closer than before, but I still didn't turn around. This had to be the worst idea I've ever come up with, but I had to take my chances. I slowly turned around, a mischievous smile playing on my lips as I faced Franco, ready to put my plan into action. Shrugging off the E.S.O.P. on my chest, I started shaking my tits in a hypnotic rhythm, hoping to distract Franco long enough for me to continue with my plan.
Franco's mouth dropped open in surprise—the shocked yet needy expression on his face was even more priceless than I thought it'd be—as he stared at me, completely caught off guard by my unexpected move with his shotgun dangling at his side. I took advantage of his shock and lunged at him, placing a searing kiss on his mouth, making him immediately moan slightly. As he stood there, stunned, I quickly got him out of his suit jacket—and oh, my God, he was wearing fucking suspenders, too—grinning at him as I grabbed the shotgun and pointed it away from both of us.
A bright red blush was creeping up Franco's face as I whispered in his ear, "Looks like I've got you right where I want you, sugar."
With a mischievous glint in my eye, I knew my plan was working perfectly as Franco let out a whine of protest, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings of excitement and anticipation. I knew I had him right where I wanted him, completely under my spell.
"Oh, Mommy," Franco wheezed, unable to resist my advances, as I dragged him off to a secluded corner of a random room.
"C'mere, baby," I cooed, my heart racing with excitement as I realized the power I held over him in that moment. I could see the thrill in Franco's eyes as he followed me willingly, knowing that he was completely captivated by my every move. The rush of control was intoxicating, and I couldn't wait to see what other desires and fantasies I could make him succumb to next.
We were going to have so much fun.