by Kenya Wright
“So I’m planning a party,” he whispered.
“Yes.” I glanced over my shoulder and spotted the two purple masked men. “And I guess I’m leaving.”
“Yes, but I’ll do as you say.”
“Good,” I whispered in his ear, “I’ll meet you in the Vatican in four days.”
He groaned.
“Don’t you even think you can stop me. You just plan a special party that will provide an experience different from erotic.”
“And what will be the experience?”
My bottom lip quivered. “The experience will be death.”
CHAPTER 14
Roman
Watching Emi walk away was one of the hardest things I’d done in my life. Not even my battle with poverty hit me that hard.
What are you planning? What will be in the news? Host a party of death? What do you mean?
I didn’t even go back into the castle. Other masked men escorted me to my hotel suite. I spent a good hour in the shower, washing off all of the devil’s evil and thinking about Emi’s body against mine. Once I got in bed and closed my eyes, Butter’s face kept flashing behind my lids. I could get no sleep. Either I was worried about Emi or depressed about the loss of my friend. All I knew was I had to do something.
Create a party with a death experience.
And then small things began to unfold in my mind. By morning, I’d drawn sketches of a death room—one that could take out a large group of people. Everything would be harmful in this room. I just needed a way to get in there and be safe for a few minutes, and then slip out and let the true experience begin.
How can I do that? What could I kill them with that’s unsuspecting, but I can be around myself? Should I use a poisonous gas? What about some toxic wine or things in their food? Maybe even the performers could be assassins? Killers that looked like kids? Were there dangerous men out there that were happy to destroy evil with their own hands?
And so hour-by-hour, I designed a grand party of revenge. Something that would tell all that ever hoped to fuck with me, that one should never consider the thought. It would be big and notorious like all the others, but I bet it wouldn’t make the press.
What would they do, if I killed them all? Took away their lives like they’d snatched my friend’s away? What would they do, if it was the people they loved that they’d wanted to kidnap and sexually abuse? What would they do to me, if I fucking got rid of that evil?
With those thoughts in my head, I snatched the only statement that rang inside my brain over and over.
I don’t fucking care. Someone has to stop them.
This could be my last party. After all these horrible men got wiped off of the planet, they’d probably come after me, just for the simple fact that they were wicked bullies that found power through fear.
But if they are bullies, how many enemies do they have?
I considered all of the things that Butter had told me in the past. We’d been coming up with details to give to Emi so she could do a massive article to expose them. Now I would use that information to find some helpful friends.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
By day two, I’d united with several groups of people. Ones that had been hurt through the devil’s human trafficking in the middle eastern countries. Ones that knew other powerful people, but were afraid they couldn’t destroy the devil alone. Ones who loved Butter and sought to avenge him. Ones who only wanted to protect little kids.
Together, we flew to Rome, under the guise of party planning. They used fake identities and pretended to practice recipes and performances. The whole time, they analyzed the place and prepared for their particular missions.
I’d gone bigger than any other party I’d ever planned. Butter had friends in dark places. With just his people alone, I had killers with expertise in poison. And they scared the shit out of me. I didn’t drink or eat anything around them. I washed my hands all of the time and kept my gaze on their hands and faces as they talked.
One had to understand that it took an odd person to be a killer, but murdering by poison required careful planning. One had to be cunning and creative. They designed our party like poets blended lyrics and artists dipped their paintbrushes in color and formed a view on canvas.
We all stayed at the hotel where the party would be at. The Palazzo Cardinal Tiberio. It had been built in the 1200s and bought by Cardinal Tiberio, himself, who refurbished and restructured the entire building. Serious money had been spent. The décor displayed exquisite style. Priceless religious paintings hung on the walls. Mahogany and other rich woods made up most of the furnishings. It was right in the Vatican district. My windows held a splendid view of St. Peter’s Basilica as well as Castel Sant’Angelo and the stunning Vatican Museums.
By the second day’s afternoon, I’d asked the hotel to deliver me every major newspaper they could find and from any country. And while I waited for the papers to come, I drank in the Vatican City.
How haunting it was to look at the capitol of the Catholic Church and know that I would be killing some of its evil members? I should’ve been scared for my soul or something, but I wasn’t. In fact, I felt more cleansed than ever before. Like doing this would get me wings for heaven, if that place actually existed. Because how could any god want its leaders to hurt children?
I’m doing the right thing. I’m getting rid of the scum. I won’t back down. I won’t drop these plans. I don’t care if it means my life, because I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d let the kids get harmed.
And what would I do about Emi? There’d been no contact between us, although I followed her little plan like a good boy. She probably didn’t know it, but she’d helped me with morning Butter by keeping me focused on destroying his killers. Instead of depression, I swam in rage. Instead of nightmares, I dreamed about the devil dying at my feet and grasping for his neck.
With a twist of my neck and a lean toward the window, I could make out St. Peter’s Square. A monument in its own right, it represented the gateway to the Vatican City. It was carved stone and bricks drenched in history and religion. Holy crosses and breathtaking sculptures of saints. Everything appeared clean as hundreds walked along this space hoping to feel the essence of God radiating from the pavement. In such a holy area, pick pocketers and purse-snatchers reaped a bountiful harvest among unsuspecting tourists every day.
Once one stepped beyond the monumental square, they entered the laws and authority of the Vatican City State. What would they do to me? I would have to provide some things to keep me safe. The only question was could those things keep me safe. Although Butter had died, he’d given me a whole lot of evidence with helping me. He’d recorded everything from the devil’s conversation with me in the castle to other meetings. Each microphone had delivered the data to a private place in his house. I’d gotten all of it, made hundreds of copies, and brought some of them with me.
Emi, where are you? Are you really coming here? Damn you. I should have fought harder against you. I shouldn’t have let you win.
A knock came at the door.
“Come inside.” I left the window and sat down at the desk.
Four men walked inside. Each had a stack of newspapers in their arms.
“We were able to get American and European ones from several cardinals in the area.” The short man placed his pile on my desk. The rest followed suit.
“Several cardinals gave you these?” I asked.
“Oh yes. The news of the missing children has been the only thing that everyone has been talking about in the city.” He backed away probably to give the others space. “We’ve all been praying for their return.”
“Missing kids?” I grabbed the first paper and tensed as I read the title out loud. “An entire school of Indonesian kids have disappeared.”
I flipped through others and right on the front page they reported the same story. Some used the word kidnap. Others said abducted. Regardless, one thing was definitely clear. Someone
had moved those kids, and as much as I had faith in Emi, that action took great power.
Did the devil do it? No. It couldn’t be him. Emi told me to read the paper today. This has to be it. She’d said she was going to call in favors. What did that mean?
Every damn front cover talked about these kids. It didn’t matter what country or language, the same picture displayed on each page. Over a hundred kids stood in the image, smiling in front of their school.
My heart boomed hard in my chest. What was going on? I needed answers from Emi and fast. If I was wrong about her doing something with the news, then that would mean that the devil had brought these kids here. If the latter was true, then I couldn’t lure the devil and his men into the death room. Not with the kids possibly around.
The men finished putting the rest of the papers down and left. There was no need to check. This had to be the message. Somebody—either Emi, the devil or another, but somebody had taken the kids.
What was I going to do? I had men and women placing wires and tubes into the vent of the banquet room. Others took great care in preparing hors d'oeuvres with special poisonous seasonings.
Whoever didn’t die from gas or poison, would go by fire. We’d booked as many rooms as possible from the floor where the party would be on up to the top. There wouldn’t be many guests in the hotel that night. The rooms were held to keep them empty. The plan was to notify the innocent people in the hotel and get them out before a match was lit. But no matter what, the Cardinal and his men had to die. And I didn’t care that all of the evidence would point to me.
If someone wanted to investigate, I would give them something to examine. I had tapes, videos, and people who would come up as witnesses.
But they probably won’t handle me legally and within the public eye. They’ll want to do it in secret.
Sighing, I went back to my jacket and touched the new id’s and passports I’d gotten for Emi and me. I had no idea if she would really come up, but I was ready for both of us to escape into hiding, if necessary.
Could we do it? Could we kill all of them and get away with it? And what will happen?
Another knock came at the door, causing me to jump. I’d barely gotten any sleep since the last party. My nerves and spirit remained on edge.
“Come in.” I placed my jacket over the first stack of papers and turned.
Emi!
She stood right in front of me. Her hair was slicked back in a bun. She wore a simple pair of jeans and sky blue shirt that went beautifully with her brown skin. Even without an expensive gown sewn with the richest fabrics, she took my breath away.
I found my words as the door closed behind her and she rushed toward me. “How the hell did you get here, Emi?”
“I don’t think you can say hell in this city.” She pressed her sweet lips to mine.
Her mouth tasted so good. I sucked on her bottom lip so hard she moaned out loud and smoothed her body against me. Like the party, it was hard to stay focused and keep my hands off of her. Before she walked in, I’d been concentrating on the plan. Now, all I could think about was tearing off her clothes and making love to her for every hour we had until the party.
She leaned away from me. “I told you I was coming.”
“I should’ve fought you on this, but I’m so goddamned happy you’re here.”
“Did you see the papers?” she grinned.
“Yes.” I let her go and raised my eyebrows. “What’s going on?”
“Everything is going as planned.” She smiled and winked at me. “We have the kids ready to come in two more days. Your partners should be happy. How’s the party going?”
Is she serious? I know we can’t discuss it here, but what the fuck is going on? I have to figure out a way to talk to her.
So I kissed her some more, not able to say the things I wanted to say, but damn sure ready to make love to her the way I’d hoped since we’d been separated. Dragging her to the bed, my cock hung heavy and grew in my pants.
“I missed you.” I laid her on the bed and got next to her. “We don’t need to talk, unless it’s the words that lovers whisper when they’re right at the point of climaxing.”
“So in other words, you don’t want to talk about party planning, you want to fuck my brains out of my head?”
“Yes, sweet Emi. You are a poet as well as a temptress.”
It took no time to get her out of her jeans and shirt. She helped as much as she could in-between yanking at my suit. This should have been a moment on our vacation or a reunion of our hearts finally coming together, but it wasn’t. This was possibly the last few days of my life, and maybe hers.
I hovered over her. My cock jutted out hard and ready for her. “Did you miss me, Emi.”
“Only a little bit.” Bare to me, she lay on the bed with spread thighs and hard nipples on top of those soft breasts. “I may have thought about you in the shower.”
“Yeah?”
“And in my dreams.”
“Hmmm.” The tip of my cock swelled even more under her gaze. “Tell me about these dreams.”
“They always end with me screaming your name.”
“That sounds correct.”
“And one time, I think I yelled I wanted to have your baby.”
My expression broke at those words. I couldn’t stop the frown from coming on my face. I couldn’t stop the tears from welling in my eyes, although they would never spill over. I wasn’t the type of man that cried. I’d spent many years training my eyes to never shed a tear. But in this moment, the very thought of Emi having my child made me sad.
Would we live long enough for that to happen? Why couldn’t I have met her years ago? If I had, I would’ve been someone else. Maybe I would’ve been better and able to do more for the world.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“It was something. You looked sad.”
“Never.”
She covered that beautiful pussy with both of her hands. “If you want this, then you’re going to have to confess, Mr. Meade.”
I groaned, “The worst thing a woman can be aware of, is the power of her pussy. Trust me. Men are grateful that most women don’t know their worth. If they did, men would be walking around on all fours with dog collars and wagging their tongues every time a female gave us a treat.”
“That’s pretty much Saturday for me.” She laughed. “But stop avoiding the question. What made you so sad?”
“You evil woman.” I stared at those fingers as they covered her sex. “I was just picturing you having my child and how that might not be a bad thing at all. In fact, this is another first with you.”
She parted her lips and said nothing.
“Now move your fingers, sweet Emi. I want to kiss you there.”
She batted her eyes. “This space isn’t made for kissing.”
I lowered my face to that area. “Then what should I do here, my love?”
“You should devour, consume, and gobble. You should guzzle this pussy.”
“Can I munch too?”
“Only if your munching brings me satisfaction.” She moved her hands away.
“Oh it will, my sweet Emi. It will.” And then I submerged into the depths of those lovely folds. I got lost within her. From the outer lips to the center, there was no area that was left unlicked or unsucked. She was mine and I told her that with my mouth, making her cream all over my face. I had her mumbling nasty things to the air. In such a holy city, this woman said the most wicked things.
I was lucky that my room was high in the hotel. Her words filled the room and probably spread across the entire floor.
“Suck it, Roman.”
I grunted as her words drove me crazy. My tongue twisted and her flavor coated my mouth with desire.
“Don’t ever stop,” she moaned. “Yes. Right there. Holy fuck!”
I had to squeeze the tip of my cock, to keep from coming all over the sheets. She was so hot I could spurt all over t
he bed without thrusting inside of her.
“Oh, Roman!” She rocked into my face. “Your tongue is the greatest religion.”
Is that right, my sweet Emi.
“I would worship your tongue all day.” She tightened her legs around my face and almost locked my face to her pussy. “I would pray over it. I would commune with it. Oh! Oh!”
And then she came all over my face, smearing that creaminess all over my skin, burning her scent into my flesh. I loved it. Every damn second of her rubbing that pussy all over me. Never had anyone violated my head in such a way. No female probably would’ve ever thought she could. But here was Emi, this warrior woman who knew what she wanted and the power that she held within her core.
Moaning even louder, she fucked the shit out of my face, making my lips, chin, and nose her own personal sexy toy. I grunted taking the softness all in.
There you go, my sweet Emi. Take what you deserve.
When she freed my face, I knew she’d finished coming. In one minute, I was her bitch. In the next, she passed out. Just collapsed right there in front of me, her chest rising and falling at a fast pace.
I licked my lips. “You just did naughty things to my face.”
“And I plan on doing more things to that face as soon as I catch my breath.”
“Not until I dive deep into your beautiful sex.” And that was what I did. I sank my cock into that wet, warm flesh, and she moaned so loud I could’ve swore the paintings vibrated on the wall.
“I hope you’re not hoping to see Vatican City, sweet Emi.” Slowly, I pulled my cock out of her, relished in the cream that she’d spread all over my length, and then thrust back into her. “There’s no way I’m letting you out of this room for the next few days.”
I didn’t think she believed me. But as the hours ran by, her legs remained open and her sex stayed wet for my cock. And I wouldn’t let her take a break besides to sample on the hotel’s signature dishes and sip some lovely wine. Other than that, we remained in bed, kissing like we may never see each other again, touching like we’d never met the opposite sex, and fucking like we were horny virgins with nothing but time.
