There was an abandoned luxury huge house which was in the middle of the jungle covered with tall trees and thickets of bushes in each side hence making it quiet and cozy during the day but scary and very cold at night. It was made entirely by glasses ─ which even from a far one could see the expensive furniture inside.
From all white interior designs to tables which could flip, and a huge painting of a man sitting alone in a cave holding himself and anyone could see he was trembling even though there was a fire in front of him. Just beside the breath-taking living room, on the left side there was a swimming pool which looked like it wasn't touched for a really long time.
And there were also gardens but they were engulfed in a morbid silence, no birdsongs and no insects. One may have thought the presence of the jungle could have made an impact but it was as dull as if there wasn't one.
At the backyard of the house there was a wild garden, walled garden, kitchen garden and a sundial garden all scattered out but ─ not so far away from each other.
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; and here were forests ancient as the hills. Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
A tall masculine of a man came out of his room. He was tall almost six foot two and he had such magnificent sexy looking body and he had no trouble showcasing it. He was shirtless and his hair which was long and black, fell down effortlessly on his neck and he took a stroke with his left hand, just because he was feeling himself. His chin was smooth and that is because he had just shaved. He does that every single morning, it's a routine he had adopted since he was a teenager.
Marcus Orlando was his name, the kind of life he was living at that moment wasn't what he had dreamed of, not even a bit. Coming from parents who worked nine - five jobs just to help raise him and his young brother. They were poor, that kind of poverty which forced him to wear the same sticky sneakers to school every day when he was young. His friends laughed at him.
Suddenly all of it changed when he met an old rich man who needed help with his sickness, he was suffering from a stage four colon cancer. He knew he wouldn't make it, there was no enough money for him to fight death. Marcus, at that time he was eighteen years old. He managed to somehow alter the will of that old man and named everything after him.
It helped a lot since the old man's wife had died and they never had kids of their own. Ever since Marcus inherited every penny from the old man, he built his own empire. He owned every ranch available in America, stretching from Texas to Mexico in a span of ten years. He built his own streaming giant networks which went on to have millions of subscribers worldwide and taking charge of sales of his own original products. His building which occupied one hundred floors was at the heart of Madison Square Garden with the name ORLANDO FIRM just at the entrance to the building.
Marcus had grey sweatpants which were saggy a little hence leaving most of his back open and also his thigh dimples were on display. He walked straight to the kitchen, took a coffee mug and poured some coffee for himself. The door of the living room was opened, he quickly stood firmly waiting for the person to come to the kitchen.
"Martin!" he called out leaning on the kitchen's counter checking some messages on his phone.
A slightly tall man walked in, he was slim and looked sharp in his ironed black suit and leather shoes. This was the bodyguard, among other special trained military officers who were hired as bodyguards to protect the young billionaire's empire. At nearly forty, Martin was ten years Marcus's senior. However, in comparison to Marcus's rangy six feet and good shoulders developed from daily burpees and weight training, Martin appeared a lot shorter.
"Sir." Martin lowered his head.
"I told you Martin, just call me Marcus. We don't have to be formal witch each other, at least not here." Marcus said while taking sip of his coffee.
"Yes Marcus, good morning."
"Morning Martin. Did you finish the task I assigned you to?"
"Yes I did. I buried her in the woods." said Martin looking unseeingly nervous with his head down and arms forward.
"And... you weren't followed?"
"I made sure of that sir, I mean Marcus. Sir Marcus!"
Marcus looked at Martin and he noticed something was off about him. He wasn't being himself, so he placed his mug on the kitchen counter and took a few step towards him.
Marcus looked at him. "Martin?" He said calmly.
"Yes."
"Are you okay?" Marcus tried to peep into Martin's eyes which were lowered down.
Martin nodded. "I am, sir."
"You don't look like it, come on spill it out."
Martin took his time, he stood for over five minutes trying to breath and calming down before saying what he wished to address. "Why?" he asked, this time looking straight into Marcus's eyes.
Marcus was overall shocked by this question. "I beg your pardon Martin?"
"I mean... she was scared. She ran outside, desperately calling for help and you —" said Martin but he stuttered and couldn't finish his sentence.
Marcus held his shoulders and placed his right arm on his left cheek. "Hey, it's okay. Don't be frightened, she had to die."
Martin looked confused by Marcus's words and he asked again. "Why?"
Marcus's facial expression changed and he wasn't liking Martin's investigation questions anymore. "You are asking a lot of questions Martin, and I don't like it. Let's get back to business, when is Katherine getting here?"
"In less than half an hour, sir."
"Good, go back to your position." Marcus ordered and then he barged out of the kitchen, he slowly walked back to his room.
Marcus wasn't in the mood to talk about that cruel thing he had done two days prior. He was neither drunk nor insane when he did it, and the crazy thing was he wasn't regretting it, and whenever he felt everything pouring down he would say. "She disrespected me, a bad slave she was and she deserved to die. No slave should disobey her master."
Yet, the scary theories of that day would still hunt him. When he walked inside his room and banged on the door hard, he was shaking and was on spaghetti legs. His eyes rolled sideways and he quickly walked to the drawer and pulled out heroine two small packets and like a junky, he teared out the packets and sniffed it all.
The heroine made some magic and after a minute he felt like himself again. He slowly crawled back to bed. He pulled up the sheets up his body and totally covered himself while he was trembling.
He could hear Linda's voice inside his head. "Stop, stop... you are hurting me..." but he didn't stop beating her with his small stick. This was his form of luxury and the echoes of the shaking table where he tied Linda were all over his head like a ringing bell. Then after a few minutes Linda became quiet, like what he liked, submissive and fragile towards him. He finally stopped punishing her and pulled her neck, then he whispered to her. "Tell me you are my slave!"
Linda didn't say it, all she wanted was to go home and perhaps she had even started dreaming of her warm shower back at her studio apartment in Queens instead of being banged by a billionaire who picked her up at the club. That pissed Marcus off, he untied Linda from the table and picked her up. Then, they locked eyes.
"Are you finished?" asked Linda.
"What do you care? Get out.." Marcus replied arrogantly throwing a couple hundred dollars on her face.
Just when he was about to exit the room, Linda called out to him. "You are such an asshole." she said picking up her dress and collecting the few bucks that were scattered on the floor.
That triggered Marcus, and he turned back. "What did you call me?" he asked.
"Geez, don't get all angry on me. But you are an asshole, I took you for a romantic man but dude your sex is trash."
"You are being disrespectful to your master." he said. Linda couldn't care less, she finished dressing up and left the room.
It was 10:30 pm and it was as scary, and as dark as it could get on the outside. Marcus took out his wood club and followed Linda behind. His face was down like a wounded animal seeking revenge. Linda didn't know that she was being followed until when she turned back and suddenly she was hit hard by the club. She fell down instantly.
"My sex game is what?" Marcus screamed in anger. "Talk now bitch!" he raised the club and hit Linda again, this time on her head and the voice of her skull crushing was heard all over the house.
Martin came out running towards Marcus who was on a rampage and clearly losing his mind as he was hitting Linda with the club as if he wasn't hitting a human being. Blood was all over the floor while some of it sprayed to the wall. Linda tried to crawl away without success, she even tried to reached out to Martin. "Help me..." she said before Marcus hit her head one more time, even harder than before and she died right then and there.
"You see that Martin? That's what happens to people who disrespect me." Marcus was like a devil possessed grinning from ear to ear looking down at a fallen Linda. Martin stood still, he wasn't moving and even when the blood which was on the flow reached his shoes, he still didn't move.
"Martin" said Marcus.
"Sir?"
Marcus looked down at Martin's shoes and he quickly dropped his club and walked to him, he moved Martin aside. "Don't let her hideous blood stain you Martin." he said and took out a tissue from Martin's pocket. Then he bent down to wipe it for him.
"Sir, sir there's no need to —"
"I can't let her stain you too Martin. She has already stained my carpet." he finished wiping Martin's shoes and threw the tissue on Linda's body. "Look at her ─ she's so quite. Like how exactly I wanted her to be, perhaps I should fuck her right now."
Marcus pulled down his pants and he was really determined to fuck a corpse before Martin stopped him. Martin pulled up the pants for him and made sure to get him inside his room. Marcus kept complaining how quiet Linda was and that turned him on, even his manhood erected just at the thought of that. "She's still hot Martin. I paid her enough, I must get to my cravings." Marcus shouted at Martin.
"No Sir! You stay here and stay put. I'll take care of this. "
Marcus screamed. "Martin, you let me go right now." But he didn't finish and he was knocked out and it all felt like a distant dream.
Half an hour later, a blue BMW X7 arrived at the house, it was carrying Katherine and three bodyguards belonging to Marcus who were assigned to pick up Katherine. Just when the car packed in one of the gardens, Martin slowly walked to it and even helped Katherine out of it. She was a very beautiful Russian model, a bit tall and glamorous like how every typical model is.
Martin shook her hand. "Ms Katherine Fedorov, I presume?"
"Martin right? He told me when we were having coffee in Moscow that you would be the one to welcome me tp the house." said Katherine with a smile trying to get herself acquainted better.
Martin nodded and led Katherine towards the entrance door of the house. "You are right Ma'am. Well, Mr. Orlando will see you now..."
"Thank you, Martin."
Katherine walked inside the house in her heels, and a red channel purse on her arm whilst the whole time she had no idea that Marcus was creeping at her, secretly observing everything from his indoor security system.