CHAPTER FIVE
“Are all of the loose ends cleaned up?” Matthew Madden asked as he eyed his second in command and settled deeper into his soft red leather office chair.
Through the open window, the breeze rustled the leaves of the trees and a fountain gurgled merrily in the courtyard of his palatial estate. It was a gorgeous summer day in the Pacific Northwest, made especially brilliant with talk of death on the agenda.
His second in command laid a thin file on the desk. “Anthony DeMateo is no more.”
Madden opened the folder and a smile stretched wide across his lips as he sifted through the photos. Such mayhem. Such destruction. All evidence blown sky-high in a spectacular display.
“Torching the house and making it look like a gas leak, well done. Your idea?”
The Second froze for a moment, his eyes widened as if the question had caught him by surprise. The hardwood chair squeaked as he shifted in his seat.
“Yes, sir,” he replied slowly, so slowly that Madden wondered if the mission did not go as smoothly as it appeared.
“And the witnesses?” He pulled a solid gold lighter from his inside jacket pocket and lit the corner of the folder. The burning evidence was placed in the wastebasket beside the desk to smolder in silence.
“All those involved have been permanently dispatched.”
“Good.” Madden sighed and let the warmth of satisfaction seep into his bones. “Good. That was an excellent idea, having our allies use their best men, then taking them out and blaming DeMateo for their deaths. Weaken them from the inside. Brilliant.”
“Thank you.” He nodded, his pale blue eyes glittering under the praise.
“Any word on my son?” Contempt and yearning colored his tone.
His son Max had always had a fondness for DeMateo. The news of Anthony’s death should drive him to make a rare public appearance. The two had been close, so close that Madden had often wondered what DeMateo’s true motives were toward the boy. Anthony had never married, though he never lacked for female companionship.
Bile rose in Madden’s throat at the idea that there might have been a sexual relationship between his colleague and his son. Perhaps DeMateo’s demise was a necessity for more reasons than he had originally planned.
Still, Max would take this news hard, but life was full of unfortunate circumstances and sacrifices.
“Max was listed as the executor of the will. Our men spotted him with the lawyer this morning,” The Second informed him. “Apparently, Max didn’t want any part of the estate and instructed Dietrich to give it all away.”
“You’re joking.”
The Second shook his head.
“Jesus Christ.” Madden steepled his long fingers together and placed them under his nose. Where the hell had he gone wrong with his son?
“Will there be anything else?”
“No.” Madden gestured to the door with an elegant, manicured hand. “Take a few days off. Lie low in case any of our friends start asking questions about their men. I’ll send for you when I need you.”
The Second stood and fastened the middle button on his suit jacket before bowing in respect. His footsteps clicked across the cold marble floor as he exited through the doorway hidden by a tall redwood bookcase.
Madden waited until the room fell completely silent before reaching under the desk and running his fingers through the tresses of the maid kneeling between his spread legs. She flashed her eyes up at him adoringly and smiled around his thick cock as she slurped him between her pouty lips.
He took off the noise-canceling headphones she wore and placed them on his desk. “You are very good at that, my dear. You almost had me coming in front of my man.”
She preened under his attention and sucked harder.
He grabbed a fistful of her bleached blonde hair and pulled her up as he got to his feet. Turning her around, he pushed her over his desk, hiking her tight black skirt up to her hips. The sight of her thong dissecting the plump cheeks of her ass made his dick twitch.
With one hand, he sheathed his cock in latex while he kicked her feet farther apart. One stroke sent him in deep.
The scent of sex filled his nostrils as he closed his eyes to savor the tight clasp for a brief moment before shuttling back and forth in her heat.
Power and sex. His two favorite things, and in his office he was blanketed in his own nirvana. Drugs and alcohol left you weak and not of your own mind. Sex was the one thing he could manipulate at his will. He controlled his body’s response. He determined his partner’s pleasure. He was the master of carnal hungers, and in that he ruled.
The nameless maid cried out and writhed under him, distracting him from his thoughts. He slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise and drove his hips harder.
For a moment he allowed himself to imagine that he was with another. A woman with dark eyes and hair as black as night, with a body so delectable that men ached to possess her.
Daria had been one of the most beautiful creatures ever created, yet inside she had been as cold and dry and unsatisfying as a martini made with cheap vodka. Physical contact was something she had been taught to endure, not revel in. In fact, he had been shocked he managed to knock her up at all, for they had had sex so infrequently.
His late wife had never understood his drive, his ambition to dominate in everything he set his mind to. Intelligence was not an attribute she possessed and she had had no compulsion to take an interest in anything he did, not that he asked that of her. However, some recognition of the accomplishments he had achieved would have been appreciated.
Now Max, on the other hand, was all he could have wanted in a son, save for the unwavering drive to walk his own course in life.
Together—ah, together they would have made an unbeatable team. His plan to rule the free world would have been completed by now, but the boy possessed a weakness of doing what he viewed was right. He used that magnificent mind to hide on his mountain. Shielding others from the destruction his ideas and theories could manifest.
If Madden had his son’s intelligence…
His balls tightened with a surge of adrenaline at the mere idea of having all that knowledge.
Yet he wasn’t without his own merits. He stood poised on the brink of success. Capitol Hill was eating out of his hand, desperate for him to pull them out of the quicksand he’d covertly led them into. Military leaders around the globe were waiting for his command to pledge allegiance to him. It was the perfect game of chess, and checkmate was in his sights.
The world would be his.
The promise of ultimate supremacy burst through every vein and exploded out the end of his cock. He clenched his teeth to hold back his moan as he jetted inside the woman.
As his heartbeat returned to normal, he reached down and squeezed his sac, ensuring that he was fully drained. He had a busy day planned and it wouldn’t do to get distracted by a hard-on.
He plucked a white cotton handkerchief from the side drawer of his desk and used it to remove the condom before placing it in the trash to join its brothers. He allowed a small sigh to escape his lips before walking to the full bathroom that was attached to his office.
“Mr. Madden?”
With his hand on the gold doorknob, he turned back toward the slut on his desk. “Your services are no longer required. You may go.”
“But don’t I get to come?” she whined.
His gaze traveled over her, slow as a glacier and just as icy. He passed over her swollen lips, down to the heaving breasts spilling out of the stretchy top, then on to the black silk triangle covering her well-used pussy.
“Leave. Now.”
He turned on his heel and shut the door behind him with a loud click.