Insatiable Habits

Eight

I'm baaaaaaaaack bitches!
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🔥Teseo🔥

Eight weeks. It's been eight weeks since I secured my grandparents at the south-side estate, encased by walls and guard towers filled by men with guns. Tucked away in my house, a house that I have not spent more then a day in, is Cecily Sanders, whom I have not seen in eight weeks. I have kept tabs of course because she tends to make decisions that threaten everybody, it hasn't been safe to speak to anybody over even a burner phone, I can't have anything for my enemies to track.

Vice has died. Fucking bastard. It pitched me headlong into the darkness of his world, forcing my hand in discovering all of the greasy gears that makes this operation work. It hasn't been easy nor pleasant, though I have indulged my bloodlust a dozen times – at least. Some people weren't happy with Vice's new arrangements or dying wish. I am not the happiest about it either but you don't see me crying of the injustices of the underground world to the feds.

I haven't been hiding, no. I've been moving around sporadically to Vice's store houses and underground tunnels, his business fronts which are mostly clubs that fill with unknowing people, young women; much like Cecily. Though I've reined in all of the sexual exploits Vice ran, I destroyed them, the people involved and have completely cleaned house, those who I've allowed to stay were very close to Vice and agreed with his will and contract upon me. "Mr Elias...Sir?" Vice's longtime bodyguard – Santiago, knocks once at my office door.

"Yeah?" I question, not bothering to look up from the documents spread out in front of me, ledgers for the club we are currently in, in New York. 'Vibez' as it's called and I am working on a large sum of dirty money to be processed through its legitimate doors. His overly broad and suited frame stands in front of me, sitting at the desk. So, I look once upon him and nod for him to go on with it.

"Some of the guys are getting restless, it's ladies night...you know" he trails off stupidly. Yes, I know it's ladies night, I planned it because woman flock together along with a huge fucking chunk of money. "Yes, I advertised it, you can go tell the 'guys' that once the doors close tonight and they are free to do as they please, then they can go get their dicks wet." He has a stone set face at my words, unbothered, unflinching and proudly wearing a wedding band, he's in his fifties and happy to be shacked up with his woman and young teenagers, he's not prowling for any new pussy but he relays the discord that the other men are feeling about the long hours.

"I will inform them, and what will you have me do if they start venturing into the crowds, not on patrol?" I understand his question instantly. He is my eyes and ears when I cannot be constantly stand over the others. "You will threaten to knock their teeth out" I growl and swipe a useless piece of paper from my desk out of frustration. They are not the only ones suffering the hours, I have tried desperately on several occasions now to fuck a other women who have flocked to me but they feel all wrong and I am repulsed by them. But it has made me no less sexually frustrated then the rest. "If they do not heed the warning, then you knock their teeth out, yeah?" I press my fingers to my temples and lean my elbows on the desk, thinking about home, my grandparents and inevitably I think about Cecily, her sweet and musky scent when I bury my face into her neck, her half assed protests when I wanted to fuck her. She's no doubt, all healed now, from the photographs I have been discreetly sent of her, she looks healthy and bright and the weight she had lost from our 'adventures' has returned to her bones, she is always bundled in clothing, winter has set in tightly across the Carolinas. At least she has been dressing appropriately. I ache to feel her again, I shouldn't but her body is uncharted paradise before me, something that nobody else had ever had, nobody but I ever will.

I'm jarred back into my currently reality when the door closes. Santiago does not need orders to leave, he understands his job and also understand when to leave me the fuck alone. Right now I just need to push this money along so I can send my men elsewhere to handle small things and I can go home and decompress for a little while.

I spent the last of the evening filtering the money through the club, ladies night was also cash night with discounts, for every clean bill that hit the bar or the front doors, change was given with my dirty cash and little by little over half a million dollars was turned over, which is an easy feat in the prime center of the city, how Vice landed this gem of a location was taken to his grave but it is an asset I appreciate.

I emerge only when the rest of the customers filter out, the overhead lights come to life, casting the once sexy and buzzy club into new and boring light. Staff get busy on cleaning and the nonessentials to the 'business' clear out until it's just me, Santiago and a dozen of my 'trusted' men, nobody seems to be missing any teeth and they're all looking at me. I clench the railing of the loft above, a floor above all of them as I stare down. "We met our goal without a hitch, I also commend your self control" I grit the last bit out because it shouldn't have been so hard for them to keep their dicks in their pants. "Everything is in the clear and I will be sending you all to your new posts tomorrow, less hours" a few cheer but all of them sigh with relief and nod, some smiling while others look unbothered regardless.

"Santiago, you'll be headed back home." Home. Unknown to even Santiago, his own is a ten minute drive from my 'home' I trust him, mostly but not enough for him to know where I live. I sigh and send them all off to do whatever they please until the morning. I am rather curious to find out what has been going on at my house while I've been away.

I can hardly wait to see the surprised look on Cecily's face.