As Frankie's call with Kielin ended, he let out a deep sigh and drew a long, contemplative breath, signaling a shift in his focus. He reached for a Cuban Montecristo cigarette from its premium packet on his desk, the sleek design, gold trim, and rich leather scent reflected the wealth and grandeur surrounding him. His office exuded power and success.
As he lit the Montecristo cigarette, Frankie settled into his oversized, leather-bound chair, its grandeur a testament to his gang's prosperity. Two young women, engaging in intimate actions with him, sat on his lap, their bodies pressed against his. The chair's enormity was evident, comfortably accommodating Frankie and the two women, showcasing his gang's wealth and influence.
Frankie sighed, still clutching the phone, as his sigh dissolved into a low, knowing chuckle. His pleasure was now palpable, the women's skilled hands and mouths had awakened his manhood, now rigid and ready to claim its territory. As they pulled back, the women were visibly horny, their arousal evident.
One woman moved to his face to kiss him, while the other began to open his shirt. When Frankie signalled her, she paused to collect his phone, dropping it on the desk, then resumed opening his shirt, partially revealing his chiseled physique, honed from years of ruthless ambition.
Frankie's surroundings snapped back into focus as a primal moan escaped his lips. He seized the first woman's hair, his and the woman's kiss ferocious.
Just as Frankie's moment of indulgence was reaching its climax, his consigliere and right-hand man entered the room, his presence commanding attention. Frankie's emotions remained icy, unfazed by the interruption. However, a hint of frustration flickered across his face as he reluctantly halted his pleasure.
His consigliere stood tall, expression impassive, as if oblivious to the scene unfolding before him. The women, sensing the shift in atmosphere, swiftly rose to leave. But Frankie signaled one to stay, a subtle gesture of his hand.
The chosen woman obeyed, sinking to her knees beneath his desk, her lips wrapping around his still-rigid manhood. The other woman, adjusting her disheveled clothing, began departing.
Frankie gave a firm smack on her buttocks, eliciting a startled shriek as she hastily departed the office, her passion-sparked haze beginning to clear. Regaining some composure, she exited.
Without hesitation, Frankie's consigliere and right-hand man drew one of the seats, settling into it with calculated calm. Adjusting his tailored blazer and clothes, he began speaking in a low, measured tone.
Meanwhile, the remaining woman's lips remained wrapped around Frankie's manhood, her head gently bobbing as she sucked. Her skilled tongue danced across the tip, sending shivers through his body. Yet, Frankie's gaze stayed fixed on his right-hand man, his expression a blend of curiosity and intent, his focus unwavering despite the sensual distraction.
Frankie's consigliere and right-hand man sat across from him, having already begun their discussion. "Boss, it's about your son. I'm sure you're aware of the situation," he said.
The large, sleek 85-inch 4K screen TV in Frankie's opulent office, mounted on the mahogany-paneled wall, had been displaying a 24-hour news station since morning. The female news reporter, with her polished demeanour, had been delivering the day's events seamlessly.
Suddenly, her tone shifted, and her expression turned grave. "...and now, we moved over to a breaking news. Just yesterday late in the night, a shocking incident has occurred at 'The Black Diamond', a popular bar and nightlife destination renowned for its upscale ambiance, exclusive clientele, and whispered connections to the city's elite. This glamorous hotspot, nestled in the heart of the city, has long been a favourite among the affluent and those seeking a taste of the high life."
Frankie's attention snapped towards the TV, his interest piqued. The right-hand man's words hung in the air, unfinished. His gaze drifted away from Frankie, focusing on something else in the room, but his attention remained fixed on the news.
The news Reporter continues: "A chaotic scene with gunfire and violence erupted at The Black Diamond last night. The devastating incident resulted in loss of life, property damage, and multiple injuries.
[Behind her, a TV screen can be seen displaying recorded footage of the chaos that happened in the bar and its aftermath, providing a visual aid to the unfolding story and news.]
Detectives at the scene confirmed the incident was gang-related, specifically involving the notorious Mystlerattle gang. Notably, all VIPs present, including high-profile customers and influential individuals, have said to have successfully escaped the chaotic scene without harm or injury. This conclusion was drawn from multiple sources:
1. The presence of two striking, tattooed young women, identified as Mystlerattle enforcers, were spotted protecting a young, high-profile individual, who escaped before authorities arrived.
2. The presence of various thugs, currently being detained, recognizable by their attire and tattoos, linked to the Mystlerattle gang and other organized crime gangs.
3. Eyewitness accounts from witnesses, customers, staffs, passersby and those staying around the bar relates thier own narratives of the chaotic scenes that took place at the Bar.
4. A group of young affluent individuals, including males and females, friends of the young, high-profile individual who escaped with the two Mystlerattle enforcers.
5. A group of promiscuous women, and celebrities part of the same social circle as the young affluent individuals who have been complaining about the incident.
6. The manager's cooperation, revealing the bar's infiltration by gang members, associates, and other organized crime groups.
Several individuals are currently receiving treatment for their injuries and trauma:
- Some of the customers and staffs
- The Young affluent women
- Some of the celebrities, especially the A-list
- The manager
Meanwhile, several others are being detained for questioning:
- The Young affluent men
- All of the promiscuous women
- All of the various thugs-gang members.
- Some of the customers and staff
- Some of the Celebrities especially the C list to the Z list
Authorities are said to be continuing to investigate the incident, with detectives promising to release more details of this shocking news as they become available. Stay tuned!
[The TV screen behind her is now currently displaying the current scene taking place at the bar, then transitions back to the news station's logo.]
The news reporter's expression smoothed into a professional smile as she shifted focus. 'And now, moving on to other news of the day,' she said, flipping through her notes."
As Frankie and his right-hand man finished listening to the news, a sly smirk spread across the right-hand man's face. Frankie burst into laughter, clearly amused by the report.
The young woman, having expertly relieved Frankie's sexual tension, displayed telltale signs of their intimate encounter. Cum marked her face and upper body, including her breasts. Frankie's now-soft manhood covered with cum bore witness to their passion.
Regaining her composure, she grabbed a Kleenex tissue from the its packet on the desk and cleaned herself and Frankie's manhood. With the tissue still clutched in her hand, she hastily exited the office, her disheveled state and flustered demeanor betraying her youthful innocence, merely 18 years old.
Frankie's laughter intensified, his right-hand man chuckling in unison. Adjusting his trousers, zipping and buckling them, and buttoning his shirt, Frankie restored his composed appearance. His authoritative demeanor and confident movements exuded an air of power. Settling into his plush chair, he lit his Montecristo cigarette and savored the moment with a long drag.
Frankie, puffing on his Cuban Montecristo, responded nonchalantly, "I know what that Kelly can do, as far this will serve as a valuable experience for either Ida 'Vanguard' or Sissy 'The Ghost'."
His right-hand man raised an eyebrow, familiar with Frankie's evasive demeanor. Despite knowing Frankie's tendency to be cryptic, he attempted to engage him further, seeking to discuss the implications and potential next steps. However, Frankie halted him with a raised hand, his expression unreadable. The right-hand man shrugged, blew a raspberry, stood up, bowed slightly, and exited the office.
Frankie's gaze drifted into contemplation. A faint smile crept onto his face as he relaxed into his plush chair. The dying ember of his Montecristo caught his attention, prompting him to light a fresh one. He puffed slowly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke, which escaped from his nose and mouth in wispy tendrils. His eyes, veiled by the haze, fixed on the TV once more.
Kelly finished the call, his expression twisted into a slight frown. He handed the phone back to Ida, who nonchalantly took it and dropped it into the sleek console compartment of their black Ferrari 812. With her gaze fixed on the windscreen, her fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel as the traffic still refused to budge.
Sissy, still nursing her injuries, lounged in the plush backseat of their black Ferrari 812, alongside Kelly. As she plugged an earbud into her ear, the soothing melodies enveloped her, momentarily numbing her pain. With her phone and earbud pack discarded on her lap, she sank into the soft leather, letting her mind drift.
As Ida expertly navigated the congested streets, the traffic jam seemed to dissipate, but only incrementally. The cars inched forward, stopping and starting in fits and starts. The Ferrari crept along, pausing briefly before lurching forward again, only to brake once more.
The erratic stops and starts finally jolted Sissy from her musical reverie. She opened her eyes, attempting to refocus on the calming rhythms, but her gaze snagged on something in the side mirror.
Intrigue sparked, Sissy's eyes remained fixed on the side mirror. For minutes, she intently studied the reflection, her expression shifting from relaxation to rapt attention.