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Novelo Rectangle

I have this problem driving too fast, but that’s who I am. But when I pull into the lot of my mansion. I drive like a bigger idiot. After all, it is my house…well…my mansion. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I slid out of my silver McLaren Speedtail. The beautiful sunshine hits me, and the smell of the gulf brings pleasure to my nose. We live right on the edge of Florida. Marco Island, to be exact. And then I also own a house in Key West.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Many people consider me to be a giant bitch. I give off that aura or attitude. But the problem is I’m only five feet. So, I’m stuck having some attitude. And when I combine that with my hardcore determination and taking what I want when I want…I can understand why people might find me to be a bitch. And I am okay with that. If I need to be perceived as a bitch, it will get me to where I want to be in life.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Four giant pillars host a beige cement entrance. Light oak doors and stained glass welcome me as I walk up to the entrance of my home…yes, my home.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My last name is Diaz, and for good reason.&nbsp;My daddy owns most of Marco Island. But! I work my ass off. I started from scratch and built my empire. My dad only loaned me the money to start it, just like a bank would do. And yeah, I would have a cushion if I fell. But again, I don’t give a fuck. And this is why so many people hate me.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Mrs. Diaz.” Ryan, our butler, says as I walk in. “Mr. Rivera is not home.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Good,” I say, looking around the living room. “Do you know where he went?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ryan shakes his head. “No idea. He said something about tennis and then a massage. I guess that answers your question.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I analyze Ryan from head to toe. “Have you been working out?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He nods while sliding a dish into the cabinet. “Always. Seven days a week. And you also had some mail. I only brought it up because it said it was urgent.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Probably the divorce papers.” I joke and pick up the mail from the kitchen table. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ryan keeps his eyes averted, but I hear the breath he releases. “Is that why you and Mr. Rivera have different last names?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“God, no!” I exclaim and chuckle. “When I married Ambrose, I thought it would be my last marriage. Especially with how young I am. But my last name is such a big deal that I wasn’t changing it for him or anyone. I’m grateful he and I don’t have the same last names. And yes, Ryan. As you heard last night, I do cheat on Ambrose.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Fear waves in his eyes, and I watch his visible gulp. “I have no idea what you’re…”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Yes, you do.” I interrupt with my serious but calm tone while looking over the mail. “That wasn’t you who walked by the kitchen when Tristan had his face buried between my legs?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He swallows again, and I’d swear I could see the tiniest beads of sweat building on his face. “I was using the restroom.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My chuckle sends a look of relief to his face. “Ryan. Trust me. You’re the last person on this planet I’d fire. I like you. You’re a hard worker. You haven’t asked for a raise once. And you’re hot…” I pause and analyze him from head to toe. He has beady brown eyes, a strong jawline, and a short brown comb over his hair, and he purposely wears tight shirts to show his masterpiece of a body. And he has every right to.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Thank you, Mrs. Diaz.” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Mia, Ryan. My name is Mia. And you’ve been here long enough to call me that. Now! If you don’t mind, I have a husband to track down and hopefully finally bust.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He tilts his cute little head the slightest bit. “Bust?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I bite back my smile. “My husband is cheating on me. Don’t ask how, because he can’t even please me. But he’s fucking another girl…maybe two. The worst part is I think he’s paying for them out of my pocket.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ryan raises his head high with an exaggerated nod. “That is why you’re cheating on him. He’s cheating and you know it.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I avert my eyes from my phone, quickly shooting a look at him and then back to my phone. “We are learning. Keep that up, and I might cheat on him with you.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His face turns red. “I’m gay.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I pucker my lips with an ‘in-charge’ look on my face. “You’re not gay. And if you were, you’d change after fucking me.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jesus! I’m starting to sound like a slut. I can thank my husband for that. And I’m far from being a slut. He’s cheating, so I’m cheating right back. And it was only with Tristan…but Tristan left this morning. Earlier than expected. So, I’m looking for new blood.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Yep!” I shout, causing Ryan to return his attention to me. “He’s at Ashley’s as we speak. Mother fucker. He’s an idiot if he thinks I can’t see his location. Or he doesn’t care anymore.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ryan clears his throat, seeming nervous. “Who is Ashley? And how are you so open and blunt to be capable of telling your butler you’d fuck me? I’ve never heard anyone talk like you before.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I raise a finger to stop him from talking. “Just a moment. I’m trying to save this location so I can go there. And like you just said, I’m like no one you’ve ever known. That’s the purpose of my life. I don’t want to be like anyone else. And Ashley is a place, not a ‘who.’ It’s the only brothel, and…before you say anything…it is not legal.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He quickly lowers his head like he’s embarrassed for asking. Is Ryan an innocent guy? &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Do you fuck?” I question with no remorse. “Like, with adults…whatever you prefer? I mean, you’re what…twenty-five or six?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Twenty-seven.” He answers, sounding embarrassed once again. “And if you can’t tell, my world is nowhere like yours. Do I fuck? I feel like that’s a bit private, but I do. And yes, I did lie about being gay. You scared me when you said that, and that was the first thing to come out of my mouth.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I’m blunt,” I say and reach for my purse. “I say what I want when I want. I get straight to the point. What’s the point of hiding anything? Just say what you want, Ryan. That’s life. You’re going to die. I’m going to die. We all are going to fucking die. So, why hold back?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He nods while reaching for the next dish. “If I had never met you and this was our first conversation, it’d be obvious that you come from an industrious family.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I return my eyes to him for another split second. “Thank you. Now. I have some shit to take care of. I’ll be back.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thirty minutes later &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I am walking into Ashley’s lounge. It’s a cute little standard house. But it’s far from being a house. If I was a lesbian, I could pay to have any service I want. Sadly, this place knows me because of who I am.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Martel, one of the sex workers, quickly stands up with fear waving in her eyes. “Mrs. Diaz. What…what…what are you doing here?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Running my fingers along the dusty countertop, I scoff. “Where is he?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She’s quick to point to their only hall and five different doors lined along it. I inhale an annoyed breath. Yeah, last night I was fearful of my husband busting me and Tristan fucking. But I didn’t have visible proof that Ambrose was cheating. Now I do. And I have my camera ready.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Which room, Martel?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She starts speaking Spanish like she’s terrified and lost. I snap my fingers. “Martel! I’m not going to have this place closed. I’m not doing anything to this place…unless you don’t tell me which room, and I must look like an idiot while busting down every door. Then I might…” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Five!” She, word vomits. “He’s in room five.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My lips curl into a bitchy smile. “Was that so hard?” &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Room five is at the end of the hall. And as I walk down the hall, I cannot lie to myself. I’m getting slightly aroused by the sounds of moans and even the sounds of bodies clapping together coming from every single room. This business is twenty-four-seven. And I can promise that they are busy twenty-four-seven. People love sex. If people didn’t love sex, porn wouldn’t be so damn popular. Fuck! Some of these women are making just as much money as I am on some of these apps, and all they do is take dick all day. I love sex. I’m almost addicted to it. But I respect my body and my privacy. No one will ever see a video of me.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As I open the door to room five, I see Bunny, one of the girls I knew when I was younger. She’s on top…not surprised…and Ambrose is moaning like a wild dog while Bunny looks disgusted and bored. Again! How the fuck did I marry this fucker? Oh yeah! He was muscular two years ago. He was good-looking two years ago. He had his life together two years ago. He had everything going for him. Not anymore. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Holding the camera and recording this moment, I exhale like I’m already winning the court battle he will put me through. My eyes analyze as Bunny grinds her ass on his body. Ambrose’s feet raise up and down as Bunny’s naked and tattooed back waves, and her blonde locks of hair follow along. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Don’t stop,” Ambrose begs. Bunny finally begins to moan. And if there is one thing I can say, Ambrose has a big dick. So, he can give good sex. But since he’s put on weight, he only lies there. And I’m never touching his cock again. Fucking disgusting. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“You don’t even moan like that for me,” I say and watch as Bunny jumps off him. His eyes widen and wave with fear. I watch as he struggles to talk, but it looks like I interrupt the moment he is about to cum. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His cock begins to throb, and I am almost turned on by the way his cum spits out of it. Bunny watches in shock. Ambrose is moaning and quickly stroking his dick as he shoots a pretty big fucking load of cum. But again, he has a big dick. And I can’t help but chuckle. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Mia!” He moans and slams his head against his pillow. “What the fuck are you doing here?”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As I hold the phone and record him, my mouth almost drops open, but I stop. “What am I doing here? Busting you. What does it look like? By the way, you forgot to turn your location off this time. And you can pack your shit as soon as you get home. I’ll be decent and rent you a one-star motel.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Mia!” He yells as I walk out of the room and back through the hallway filled with ‘Forgive-me-father’ moans and the sounds of clapping cheeks. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Bye, Ambrose.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Mia!” He yells again, sounding angry as hell. “You, fucking bitch!”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He’s only pissed because he knows he’s already lost a battle he always thought he’d win if it ever happened. And it’s happened. Fucking loser.

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The Edge Of Red

brandon61386

Brandon Brehmer

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