Page 11 of Entwined

No other man will come close to me. I fucked her like a god. Made sure her G-spot got hit hard with every pump, her clit swelled under my touch, and the diamond dove glistened between her legs as I stroked her good.

I wonder if she’ll leave it or take it out to spite me now. “Sir?” I’m ripped from my thoughts by my PA knocking on my door.

“Come in,” I bark, without even turning around. I walk closer to the cold glass wall, needing to calm my fucking dick down.

“Sit.” I command, with my eyes still staring down as if some inner radar will point my eyes in her direction below.

“This better be good,” my attorney, Greg, mutters. He, of course, didn’t bother to knock. I make them both sit in silence impatiently as I continue to stare at the city below.

“Devillo?”

“I’m selling. Dismantling my own empire.” I finally turn from the window, to face them. Both of their mouths hang open.

Trevor starts sputtering, “Wh-what?”

“I’m turning over a new leaf and all that,” I gesture. “I want to shift gears… change the focus of my life and my business. Find a buyer. Get a good price. I’m starting a charitable foundation. I want to bring water, renewable energy and food to third world countries. Feed the poor. Cure the sick. Educate children.”

“Bloody hell. You’re having an identity crisis.”

“No. Greg, I’ve never seen things more clearly.”

“What’s the name of this new foundation?” Trevor asks, furiously typing notes on his tablet.

I shrug, “Come up with something good and I’ll double your bonus. Let’s get to work.”

“China. There are investors there that have inquired about Devillo industry in the past. I’ll make some calls.”

“Good.” I nod my head as he takes out his smartphone and starts scrolling through contacts.

“Trevor.”

“Sir?”

“I need a makeover.”

His face reddens as he studies me. I suspect he’s gay. Not that any of that matters, he’s a damn good PA. “Not that kind. My image. Find me the best PR guru in the world.El Diabloneeds to transcend intoEl Savador, the savior.”

The hostel is empty. The desk clerk informed me that skiing in Europe for New Year’s is quite popular amongst my age group. I key in to an empty room. Kick off my boots and hop into the top bunk. The metal bed squeaks. But it’s oddly comforting. After months of living in luxury, I’ve returned to my roots. To a place where I’m comfortable.

My burner cell rings from inside my coat pocket. I pull it out.

“California?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Where are you?”

“At a youth hostel.”

“Good. Text me the address. Someone will come for you at midnight. Meet him out front. I’ve arranged passage for you on a merchant vessel. They’ll sneak you across the channel into France. From there, you’ll sail to Greece. I’ll meet you there.”

“How much will all this cost?”

“For you, California? Nothing.”

“Is-will I be safe?”

“Yes. These are all friends. Connections. People who owe me favors. You’ve been gone a long time. I’m a big man now. Not as big as El Diablo. But I’m on the rise. They call me Mágos. It means “wizard” in Greek. Because I make things happen. Once you arrive in Greece, I’ll meet you. I already have a plan on how we’ll play your disappearance.”

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