Chapter 30
The elevator came to a sudden halt on the 30th floor.
“Oh,” the staff gasped. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Silverman, but the elevator seems to have broken down.”
“WHAT!?” the elderly lady shouted, exasperated. She had come to teach her son a lesson for disobeying her and this was what she got?
“FIX IT NOW!!”
The staff bowed her head in apology,” Yes, ma’am.”
***
William was toweling Rebecca dry on the makeup table of the big and vast bathroom. Soft yellow light illuminated the room from the great rectangular mirror behind her, casting a glow around her naked body.
“Did I hurt you?” he probed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears.
She was hurting down below; he had been savage. Like an animal even, thrusting mercilessly into her from behind with a relentless rhythm. He had stretched her beyond her limits, pushed her beyond her boundaries, brought upon her more pain than she could bear and yet…she wanted more.
William had awakened the sex kitten within her. Never in her life did she imagine she would enjoy hardcore sex. For goodness’ sake, she just had two orgasms…all in a matter of an hour apart. She never knew THAT was possible, stuff like that only existed in stories!
She looked down sheepishly, not knowing how to respond.
“Do you want me to fuck you again?” he whispered into her ear, breathing down her neck.
His voice was extremely sensual, and her heart started to beat wildly. Thump, thump, thump, it went. She hoped William couldn’t hear its thunderous beating.
As much as she yearned for his touch again, she was too sore. If he took her again, she would not be able to withstand the pain, so she shook her head.
William looked disappointed, but he gently toweled her dry anyway, kissing her on the forehead.
“I’ll let you go, for now, come let’s have dinner,” he murmured and lifted her down from the table. She almost stumbled, surprising herself. Her legs felt like jelly, and truth be told, she was physically spent.
His arms, strong and muscular went around her, holding her up, “Eat first, you can sleep later.” He slipped on a silken velvet robe over her and holding her hand, he led her out of the bathroom.
All of a sudden, she heard someone scream, “William Silverman! Come out here this instant!”
Who is that? she thought in surprise. She could not see William’s face from behind, but she could tell that he tensed at the voice for his hand suddenly gripped hers tightly.
Then he sighed and turned around, “Stay here.”
Why? she wanted to ask but did as she was told, nodding her head wordlessly.
William walked out of the room and closed it behind him, but not before she caught sight of an elegant but angry woman storming towards their direction.
Angry would be too mild a word. The elderly woman had looked wildly incensed, almost as if she were to burst into a ball of flames.
Rebecca pressed her ears to the door, feeling like a paparazzi again and from behind the door, she could hear the woman shout, “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?”
William’s voice sounded muffled, he must have been speaking at a lower volume, but she caught some of his words and they sounded somewhere along the line of, “He’s out of control mother.”
Just who is out of control? she wondered and peeked through the keyhole.
And then she saw it, the woman raised a hand and slapped William hard across the cheek before she stormed off to the elevator where the previously jolly-looking staff stood, petrified.
At that instance, Rebecca wanted to jump out of the bedroom door and give the woman a piece of her mind. No one had ever laid a hand across her face, not even her parents when she was at her naughtiest. For the life of her, she could not comprehend what William could have done to incur such wrath from this woman, his mother.
Calm down Rebecca, he told you to stay inside. That means he doesn’t want you to meddle with his family affair.
From the keyhole, she saw William standing motionless for a moment with his back towards her before turning around to walk to the bedroom door.
Rebecca practically sprung three feet back, pretending to be occupied with a boring looking table lamp when he opened the door. The right side of his face was red from where he had been slapped, but he made no move to explain himself.
He merely said, “Come. Dinner’s getting cold.”
***
John sat in a brightly lit coffee shop in the outskirts of New York, sipping a hot cup of coffee. It was thick and black, just the way he liked it. Sitting across from him was a slightly plump middle-aged Latino woman, looking extremely worried.
“Senor, are you sure my life won’t be in jeopardy?” she asked, her eyes darting around uncomfortably.
John leaned forward and placed his hands over hers, giving it a reassuring pat, “Yes. So long as you haven’t told anyone else, you’re fine.”
She gulped, pushing her hair back with her rough course hand. A few strands had escaped her tight bun. John could tell that she had lived a hard life and was stepping out of her comfort zone to pass him this piece of information.
“You have my number, you can always call me,” he continued.
The woman nodded, trusting him fully, “Alright then senor.” She took a deep breath and began to recount her tale.
“Sofia and I met up for coffee here a few months ago. We were good friends, amici, and she told me that bumped into him as he came out of her room!”
“Him?”
“Yes, yes…she was so excited! He’s such a well-known figure after all…”
“Who’s him’ and who's her’?” John implored.
“Oh,” the woman laughed nervously, “Irana Long…the lady who was murdered. And the man…”
“Yes?” John held his breath.
“It was William Silverman himself!”