Chapter 11: _ Daddy Luis’s Got The Drill
[WARNING: Mature/Dark Content Ahead!]
After Axel's visit, I was fucking livid. The nerve of that bastard. It took everything in me not to snap his neck right there. But I had to control myself. Patience. I wasn't about to ruin this because of a moment of stupid rage.
Still, the need to vent was unbearable. My body itched for the release that only killing could give me. Killing was my only therapy. But I had to wait until nighttime. I couldn't afford to mess things up now.
The door creaked open, and in walked the nanny. God, she was always so fucking sweet. Annoyingly sweet, with that voice that made you want to scream.
Every time when I was horny, her delicious pussy was my getaway. Dang... her big mamacita boobs were so plump, my dick forgets we needed to lie low whenever she wore one of those floral dresses that revealed her cleavage.
"Luis? Still feeling under the weather?" she cooed, coming closer, looking at me like I was some kind of flimsy doll.
Pfft... a flimsy doll that uses her as a sex toy at his will.
I slouched in my chair, giving her the best pathetic look I could muster. Eyes wide, shaky hands. I had this act down to an art. She saw me as this poor, broken man—helpless, weak, a victim of his father's abuse; a story Tomás had sold to fool the pack.
What a joke. They all thought I was the pitiful cousin, the crippled nephew. But they had no idea who I really was.