Chapter 62

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Hamza

"Congratulations, it's done," Ricardo smiled triumphantly, disconnecting the call.

Fucking finally.

I released the breath I held while he spoke to Cesare Romano, the Capo Dei Capi of the Italian family in New York.

"Are you sure?" I wanted to be certain about it.

"Cesare's informant in the hospital informed him that Dawood is dead and that his father and PR team are delaying releasing an official statement for unknown reasons," Ricardo replied.

Dawood Ordimez was dead.

The man who became the bane of my existence was dead. If not for him, I would be married to Emma and would have been a part of Taimur Al Jahaan's family by then—one of the most influential families in the world. The net worth of the Al Jahaans was in trillions. They held immense power and influence in the Arab world and were at the forefront of the world's politics.

All my life, I had wanted nothing but to be a part of the royal family and be a board member of the Al Jahaan Corporation, and I would have if not for that Turk.  I had Emma in the palm of my hand after manipulating her into believing we were in love, but then Dawood came into her life and stole her from me.

I vowed to annihilate Dawood the day Mohammed showed up at my apartment and left me bruised and battered. The bastard thought he could threaten me into giving up my only dream, but he should have known if I couldn't have Emma and a seat at the board table, no one else would.

I contacted Cesare Romano through Ricardo and offered him a lucrative amount of money to get rid of Dawood. Cesare Romano was a cunning bastard. He knew what killing Dawood Ordimez meant. After much bargaining, Cesare settled for a share percentage in the Al Jahaan Corporation. I agreed to the deal because it was better than nothing. I was certain Emma would come crawling back to me once Dawood was dead, and I would gain control of her share in the company.

Cesare arranged for a sniper to shoot Dawood during an event he attended in New York. The Sniper carried out his job successfully, and Dawood Ordimez was dead. I hope he will enjoy his stay in heaven or, rather, hell, given his past transgressions.

"It calls for a celebration," Ricardo's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"It does," I agreed.

An inferno burned inside me in the past months. There didn't go a day when I didn't want to hurt Emma or kill Mohammed. But I knew that wouldn't help me fulfill my dream. Dawood's death was my only ticket to get back into Emma's life and get what I wanted.

"Where to then?" Ricardo inquired, pushing to his feet.

"The regular," I replied.

Ricardo and I came to the famous strip club in Manhattan owned by Cesare. We were patrons at the club, and the bouncer let us in without checking our IDs.

Ricardo and I sat through the strip show, watching the strippers and shaking their asses on the stage. We nodded at each other when we spotted a new stripper, and after the show ended, we asked to see the stripper in a private room.

The staff informed me the stripper didn't do any private shows, but the bundle of bills I passed the staff member made him smile and comply with our wish. Everything and everyone had a price. You only needed to guess how much that could be.

"Did you see that ass?" Ricardo asked, bursting with excitement at the seams.

I did.

It had been a long time since a stripper had excited me enough to ask for a private show that cost me more than ten thousand dollars. But I couldn't restrain myself from wanting to fuck that stopper. The image of the stripper's lips wrapped around my cock made me toss ten grand for it.

Ricardo and I settled on the couch in the middle of the room, and a bouncer escorted the stripper inside. My cock hardened and pressed against my zipper, seeing the stripper clad in nothing but leather.

"It's going to be fun," I murmured to Ricardo in a hungry tone, "I can't wait to fuck that ass."

"I can't wait to fuck that mouth," Ricardo smiled wickedly.

The stripped put on a song, and the music blasted through the speakers. My cock hardened with every item of clothing the stripper tore off from the body and tossed it on the side.

Ricardo grabbed the stripper by the hips and pulled the stripper onto his lap. The stripped ground his ass over Ricardo's erection, and he grunted in approval.

"You will suck my dick, won't you flower?" Ricardo pushed his thumb into the stripper's mouth, and the stripper sucked on it eagerly.

I knew the stripper would let us do anything for the ten grand I paid. Come morning, the stripper wouldn't be able to move after Ricardo and I were done. The money should be enough to cover the stripper's expenses for a few nights because the stripper wouldn't be able to work for almost a week after all the fucking we were going to do.

The stripper moaned, and the sensual sound traveled straight to my dick. I couldn't wait to fuck that mouth, but Ricardo called dibs on it, and I would have to opt for the other hole.

Ricardo pushed back and lay on the couch while the stripper straddled him and then undid his belt and pulled down Ricardo's pants and briefs, freeing his erection. My mouth watered when the stripper leaned and wrapped those pouty lips around his head—the stripper hummed in appreciation, licking the precum on Ricardo's dick.

I couldn't control it anymore. I pushed to my feet and undid my belt and zipper, then made my pants and boxers over my hips and grabbed the stripper's ass. It took me a single thrust to enter the stripper to my hilt, and I grunted as the walls clenched around my cock.

I knew the stripper would be a little treat, and as tight as they came, "You feel so good, baby," I slapped the stripper's ass, and the stripper ground against me, welcoming me further. I began pumping in and out of the stripper, and the pressure in my balls increased.

The air in the room filled with my grunts, Ricardo's appreciative groans, and the stripper's needy moans. The three of us got caught in such a frenzy, as it was the end of the world and the last time we got to fuck.

The door of the VIP room burst open with a bang, and my head snapped in that direction. The color on my face drained when I saw the person standing in the doorway.

What the fuck was Ahmed doing there?

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