Page 5 of Princess's Revenge

While that’s not thebestnews I’ve ever heard, the way he says it is reassuring enough to let me straighten up in my seat and look out the window.

We’ve been driving for a long time. No one has done anything. They’re notrelaxedbut they’re not on edge either. There’s nothing I can do at this point, so I watch the factories go by as we pass into New Jersey.

Then something occurs to me, “Yousent the pictures?” Francis practically baited me earlier. I was too scared to listen to what he was saying.

“We did,” Anthony confirms.

“Why?”

“You deserved the truth,” he concentrates on the road ahead before he goes on, “we also wanted to see what you’d do.”

Thanks for being cryptic.“I’m not important enough to go through all the trouble, which obviously means that Jack is up to something I don’t know about and you’re doing this to ruin him. Did you set him up? Are the pictures even real?”

The brute glares at me over his shoulder. “They’re real and your questions will be answered, but not by me. This isn’t about Jack. Relax and enjoy the drive. Talking time is over.”

I guess that’s my cue to shut up. I don’t want to get hit again, so I’ll play along…for now.

A few minutes later we turn onto a dirt road with a thick canopy of trees overhead. It certainlylooksdeserted enough to kill someone and dispose of a body.

We come to a clearing and I see a high stone wall. We follow alongside it till we come to a massive, intricately designed wrought iron gate.

There’s a guard in a hut. Anthony gives him a thumbs up and the gate slowly parts from the middle, opening inward.

I sit closer to the middle of the seat and crane my neck to see ahead of us. There’s an enormous, green, rolling hill and atop it sits a house made of stone. It’s so big, it looks more like a mansion or a castle. I’ve never been in one—a mansion—it’s like something out of a movie.

I sit back and notice Francis smiling at me, “We’re here.”

I guess I’m not getting killed after all.

Yet.

We arrive at my father’s compound and stop on the white-gravel courtyard in front of the gaudy water-feature with the pissing cherubs.I hate it. It’s too ostentatious.

When we all get out of the Escalade, I’m finally able to take a good look at Jessi and admire what a tight piece of ass she is.

I’d prefer not to smack her around anymore. My dad is probably going to throw a fit if he finds out I hit her, so I give her a smile and gesture up the stairs, “This way.”

She gives me a sideways—fuck you—glance and walks behind Anthony. Francis and I bring up the rear.

Our house is very defensible. It’s difficult to breach and there are very few places for people to hide. We’ve designed it this way. We can spot trouble coming a mile away and we’ve got the firepower to take care of it.

At the top of the stairs, the large, wooden double-doors open and our butler, Charles—who’s strapped by the way—greets us as we go in, “Sir, Miss, Sir, Sir.”

“Chuck.”I’m informal with the help.

The foyer is sparse. It’s large but mostly empty. It’s not a place to keep prized possessions because this the receiving room. And let’s face it, we run a gang full of thieves and murderers.

We’re the fucking Mafia. These days you can’t even trust yourownpeople…not with the feds and all their new technology…anybodycould be a rat.

We keep the room minimalist so nobody can find some stupid bauble to plant a bug on. We also sweep the house for radio frequencies once a week.

I take another look at Jessi’s ass and wonder if she’ll be able to take my cock. Franky nudges me and whispers, “Stop smiling like a jackass,” before following her up the wide, swirling marble staircase to the balcony above.

We get there and Anthony takes a left towards my father’s office. We pass about fifteen stained-glass windows overlooking the meticulously manicured grounds, then come to our destination.

Anthony knocks twice, then opens the door and we all file in. Jessi does it tentatively, like she’s investigating the scene of a crime.

Showtime!