Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1)

by Veronica Lancet

  I quickly exited the house and tried to keep out of sight as I ran across the lawn again. Surprisingly, I reached the second building in record time. Going through yet another back entrance, I had to shoot two more people down before getting to the surveillance tower. Glad there were no more interruptions inside the room, I locked the door, adding some of the furniture for extra force. Then I took my position and looked through the telescope. I adjusted my view a little, and finally, I could see what was happening in the hall.

  Misha was arrogantly pacing the floor. Vlad was being held by two goons. His clothes were full of blood, and so was his face. Not his blood, of that I was confident. Misha seemed to be saying something, probably gloating about his treachery. I fixated on Misha and waited for him to stand still. His hands were flailing around.

  "Stop moving!" I muttered to myself.

  He moved again to remove one of Vlad's shashkas and hold it against his throat. I had to hurry. I controlled my breathing and looked for the red dot to coincide with his skull. Please, move a little to the right, I whispered to myself.

  And he did.

  Just as he moved two millimeters to the right, I took my hit, right between his eyes. Kill shot. The moment Misha dropped dead, Vlad wrenched himself free from the men holding him, immediately slaying them. He then stood and looked right at me.

  He was a sight, that's to be sure. So bloody and fierce. He was magnificent. If I wasn't already in love, I might have had a different appreciation for the dashing figure he cut all in red.

  He winked. I laughed and lowered my rifle. It seems that my best friend was the new Pakhan.

  CHAPTER VII

  Last night’s conversation with Bianca left some lingering thoughts. I'd been shocked when she'd asked me about my darkest sexual fantasies. It had sent me back to a period in my life, before Bianca, when I had indulged in those dark fantasies. It had also made me question whether I was truly satisfied with how things had been with Bianca in the bedroom. Ever since I'd started seriously seeing her, I'd never even entertained the thought of unleashing myself on her.

  She'd been so quiet, reserved. So, sheltered. Knowing the darkness that had been my life before her, I'd wanted to preserve that innocence against all costs, so our lovemaking had always been tender and restrained. I can picture even now the night I'd taken her virginity. It had been under the covers and in the darkness of the night. She'd been shy and tentative in her explorations, and I'd tried to make her as comfortable as possible. After that, I'd always been as careful as possible with her, not wanting to scare her away with my desires. Looking back now, by treating her with kid gloves, I'd also been denying myself.

  Suddenly thoughts of another woman come to mind, one that I'd treated the exact opposite of my wife.

  Before Bianca, I hadn't dated, my career goals taking precedence over romance. All my sexual escapades had been relegated to prostitutes, and even that had been rare.

  I'd met this particular hooker after I'd started joining some of the senior associates in the mayor’s office at this strip club named Palace. I'd been watching her the whole night the first time I saw her. But she was the one who approached me first.

  "You know the rules, handsome?" I was in the VIP section on a couch when she'd come up to me and asked. She was dressed in a purple skintight mini dress that emphasized her curves. She'd had these gorgeous green eyes that seemed to sparkle when she looked at me.

  "Look, but don't touch?" I'd barely found my words, so mesmerized I'd been by the slope of her breasts and the sway of her hips.

  "This one, you can touch." She'd gotten on her knees in front of me, her hands slowly creeping up my thigh.

  "And what else?" I'd asked, my right hand caressing her cheek before my thumb slipped behind her lips. She'd sucked it before saying.

  "You can do whatever you want to me." Her hands had continued their exploration until they'd reached the growing bulge in my pants. With a languorous pace, she'd opened my trousers and taken me in her hand. Everything had stilled as she'd dropped her head to lick me from base to tip before taking me deep into her throat. My hands had gone to her hair of their own accord, and I'd fucked her mouth like a mad man. After I exploded in her mouth, she'd licked her lips clean and purred. Without a word, she'd stood up to leave, but I'd had to get her name.

  "Pink," she'd said and walked away.

  It wasn't until she was well out of sight that I'd realized she'd just sucked me off in front of everyone. That'd been my first taste of Pink, and I kept coming back for more. For over two years, she'd been my only avenue for physical relief. Then I met Bianca, and I stopped going back to the Palace.

  I'm not going to lie and say that my thoughts haven't strayed to Pink once or twice in the past years. She'd been the first woman I'd fucked more than once and on a regular basis. She'd also been the epitome of sexuality wrapped in a delicious package. Not many women fucked like Pink did, with such depravity and abandon.

  But for all the bliss I'd found inside of Pink once upon a time, I'd never exchange what I have now with Bianca. Sex, for the sake of sex, did not hold a candle for sex with an emotional connection. Even if we lack spiciness in our lovemaking, it’s still mind-blowing because it is with her.

  But it seems that now she is open to trying more. And I can’t wait.

  "Rico is following her now," Marcel’s leaning against the wall, his nose in a document when he casually informs me about Rico, interrupting me from my reminiscing.

  I groan out loud at that. Reality comes crashing down as I realized that while our sex life may be improving, my wife may also be cheating on me.

  "I am curious, though." Marcel comes towards me, dropping the files on the table.

  "What?"

  "What will you do if she's actually having an affair?" I look at him for a second, considering my reply.

  "Will you divorce her?" He continues to probe. I frown at his question, not because it wouldn't be the natural one if one's spouse was having an affair, but because Marcel was the one asking a personal problem. Again.

  "I don't know," I reply honestly. Marcel nods and takes a seat, changing topics.

  "I got someone willing to give us information about Jimenez. Are you sure you want to proceed? You saw how it all turned out with Martinez. These people are dangerous."

  "In my position, I can't really afford to care about the dangers. Not when people are suffering under Jimenez. Not when I know he has undetected sex rings right under the nose of NYPD."

  Marcel shakes his head.

  "We both know it’s not really about your constituents. I’m fairly sure your parents wouldn’t want you to disregard your safety." Marcel is close to hitting a nerve, so I just grunt.

  We’ve rarely talked about my parents or my personal connection with Jimenez, and I want to keep it that way. That topic belongs to a different arena of my life. One that I’d long left behind.

  "What I'm trying to say is that they have connections. Dangerous connections. I'm not talking about people that can ruin your career. I'm talking about people that will not hesitate to put a bullet through your skull. You and everyone you love."

  I give him a dry smile. "That's not exactly encouraging."

  "No, but you saw how Martinez died. And in their world, that's mercy."

  "Sometimes, Marcel, I have the nagging feeling that you know too much of their world."

  "You do what you gotta do, right?" He looks away.

  "Right..." But I still wonder… He knows my deepest secrets, but do I know his?

  It’s a little over seven, and I’m just wrapping up my work, ready to go home when Marcel suddenly appears in my office.

  "Rico's got something to tell us." He says before dialing his cousin on his phone and setting it on speaker on the table.

  "Yo, cuz." Rico starts, and I can see a nerve twitching in Marcel's eye. He clearly doesn't have any lost love for his cousin.

  "I'm with Theo, tell us what you found."

  "I got he
r usual schedule, and it says here she's at the Foundation from nine to six with a lunch break at one."

  "Yeah, that's her regular schedule." I agree, somehow hoping his next words will confirm that's exactly where she's been between those hours.

  "Well... She left work at twelve, then went to an apartment building in Midtown, 67th Street. She was in there until a little over five pm, after that she left and headed directly to your home. "

  I am stunned.

  Speechless.

  I look at Marcel with what must be horror in my eyes because he is the one who hangs up on his cousin, thanking him for his work and telling him to continue watching her.

  "I gather you don't know anything about that apartment?"

  I just shake my head, still too shocked.

  "Can you..." I barely find my voice to ask. "Can you please look into that apartment? Find out who owns it? If there's a... man?"

  "On it. It will take a few days, though."

  "Yes, don't worry, take your time."

  "I have to warn you, though, as a lawyer." Marcel starts, "You must not let her know you suspect she might be having an affair. Then we won't be able to gather the evidence. In the event of a divorce... You need all types of ammunition you can get."

  "I know... I know," I sigh.

  "I'm really sorry, Theo. I really thought she was different." Marcel adds, and I give him a sad smile. He's a good friend.

  "It's still not certain. There could be another explanation. I'm willing to wait until I see irrevocable proof that she's having an affair. I just don't want to believe she would do that. Now when I know how much we love each other." What I don't say is that I refuse to believe all her words of love were lies. Yes, there has to be another explanation.

  "We will see."

  We both leave the building, and during the drive home, I try my best to calm myself. Maybe other people would call me a fool to not believe she might be cheating when there's one piece of evidence after another, all pointing in that direction. But at the same time, if there ever was something that I trust with my life, it would be the depth of Bianca's feelings for me. There’s just something between us. This connection that I felt within seconds of meeting her. Just being in her presence fills me with so much peace... I just refuse to believe she'd let another man touch her.

  When I get home, she's already there. I can see she's showered; her hair is wet, and she's wearing a towel wrapped around her body.

  "Theo," She smiles when she sees me, and I do what I always do. I open my arms for her to come. She's a tiny thing, my wife, her head only reaching the middle of my chest. She wraps her arms around my middle and holds tightly. It's now that I notice the differences in our sizes and how easy it would be for me to crush her. My fists clench in the air before I remember and hug her in return.

  "Long day at work?" She asks, probably because the stress is written all over my face.

  "Too long." I try to make my mouth move in a semblance of a smile, hoping she won't think there's anything off with me.

  "Do you like the smell of this shampoo?" She suddenly asks and wrinkles her nose. She's too cute.

  I bend towards her to sniff, and I nod.

  "Hmm... what is it? I can't put my finger on it."

  "Ughh... so a couple days ago... or was it last week?" She starts, and her eyes move to the left as if she's trying to come up with the timeline. "Anyway, doesn't matter. I was about to go for a meeting in Brooklyn, and a pigeon pooped in my hair. So, I had to find somewhere quickly to get rid of that thing. I went to this hotel to quickly shower, and they had the most amazing shampoo I've ever smelt. I don't know what it was but God, Theo... It was that good." She moans as she recalls it. "I've been trying to find it ever since, which is the closest I've come. It's a combination of bergamot and orange, I think."

  "It's really nice." I manage a smile as I take in the information, she's just dumped on me. Surely...

  "When was this? The pigeon poop?"

  "The pigeon poop," she laughs as if it's the most ridiculous thing, and in a way it is.

  "I don't remember exactly, but I was wearing that Chanel dress that you love. A little got on my shoulder too. I think I ruined it when I tried to wash the spot by hand." She complains with a pout.

  "Oh no, the blue one?" I ask, trying to confirm what is slowly becoming a vastly different narrative than I would have expected.

  "Yeah, that one. The spot I cleaned is a little discolored. I might just take it to a dry cleaner and see if there's anything to be done."

  "I can do it for you in the morning when I go to work. There's one next to us."

  "Really? Why didn't I ask you before? Must have slipped my mind. Thank you!" She goes on her tiptoes and gives me a sweet kiss.

  "Come eat, I made some pasta!"

  I follow her into the kitchen, and we proceed to eat in amiable silence, every now and then adding some insights from our work.

  I can't believe it. My wife just explained to me the truth behind the video. She wasn't meeting any man. She wasn't cheating. The only question is… do I trust her? I have no reason not to. She couldn’t have known I suspected anything, and she simply couldn’t have known I'd seen the footage from the hotel. Suddenly I feel ashamed that I'd even contemplated such a thing. The apartment in Midtown must have a clear explanation too, and I'm sure she will tell me.

  All in due time. I can be patient.

  Later in the night, we are both in bed, flushed and sated, when nagging doubts keep creeping in my brain, so I just blurt out.

  "Do you ever regret not experimenting with other men before me?" Now, out of my mouth, the question doesn't sound like it did in my head. It sounds as if I'm criticizing her for being inexperienced when I mean the opposite.

  "Theo, what brought this on?" She’s half sitting on my chest, and as she asks the question, she lifts her head and looks at me with those innocent eyes of hers.

  "Never mind," I mumble, trying to get out of this. Her hand comes to my face, and she caresses my jaw.

  "I don't, and I never will."

  "But haven't you ever thought what it would be like with someone else...?" I don't know why I'm digging my own grave, but I need to know.

  "Honestly? No. I didn't even notice other men before I saw you, Theo. I couldn't bear anyone else touching me but you. But why would you ask me this?" Her words, coupled with the sincerity I see reflected in her eyes, mollify my fears.

  "Sometimes, I'm afraid. I'm scared I might not be enough for you. You're young, vibrant, and beautiful, and I'm..." I don't get to finish as she grabs my face with both hands and stares me in the eyes.

  "Don't you dare say anything else. You are the most attractive man in my eyes. Do you really think you're the only man I've ever seen in my life? I've been to so many functions and parties. I've met people. What I haven't met is another man to awaken such a visceral feeling in me. I don't just love you, Theo. You are everything to me. Everything."

  I look at her, getting worked up over that declaration, and I feel my chest bursting with love. And just like that, I believe her.

  "I love you too, B." I kiss her forehead.

  "Good. You better." She giggles. "Although now it's my turn to ask. Would you have preferred I had more experience, is that it?"

  "Hell, no!" My reply is instantaneous. "I wouldn't change a thing about you, B. I have to admit that knowing I'm the only man you've ever been with does warm my heart, but only because you've chosen me to share yourself with. Not anyone else. It makes me feel... special."

  "Aww, you say the sweetest things."

  "That isn't to say that if you'd been more experienced, I would have loved you any less. I don't want you to even contemplate that."

  "Oh," She waves her hand, dismissing the notion. "It would have never happened. I wasn't kidding when I told you that I don't feel even remotely attracted to other men."

  "Then, I'm a lucky bastard," I say, wrapping my arms around her and turning so that she's on her back, and
I'm settled between her legs.

  "I'm the lucky one," she whispers before taking my lips for a kiss while accepting me into her body.

  Before I fall asleep, I text Marcel to call off Rico. I will just have to trust my wife.

  CHAPTER VIII

  "I think I managed to convince him about the hotel," I say over the phone to Vlad.

  "I'm curious, what did you come up with?" He asks with a chuckle.

  "That I got rained on by pigeon poop and had to take a shower before a meeting?"

  "B!" Vlad groans out loud. "Tell me you didn't actually say that?"