Mysterious Male Escort Is A Mogul นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Men in dark suits strolled around with guns slung over their shoulders and around the house was nothing but thick forest and rolling hills as far as the eye could see. "There's no escape, Alexandria." He said from behind me. "You can't just keep me here! " " Who is going to stop me? " "Wh-who are you?" I croaked out of a painfully tight throat, "You're not just the owner of a club." His dark eyes flicked over me, "Giovanni Morelli. The Don of the Italian Mafia." He said, "I'm a man who is used to getting what he wants and your body is mine now."

He was dressed to impress and this motherfucker did just that -he impressed me. “Hello Mr. Peabody, I’ll let you take it from here,” she said and turned to exit the room. “Thank you Stephanie,” he said, closing the door behind her. He turned and walked to the front of the room. “Hello everyone, I am Mr. Peabody. I am the assistant to Ms. McBride. Welcome to Elegant Escorts, which is under the umbrella of Elegant Industries, the company that owns and operates the Elegant Hotels,” he stated, looking like a damn piece of chocolate.

She was on vacation in one of the rooms of a villa reserved just for herself in the Maldives because she was desperate to relax when she noticed a man who appeared to have just emerged from the water and was walking toward the shore like a model, brushing his hair backward and appearing to be a Greek god who had just descended from heaven. Celine, who was on her sun lounger sipping her juice, was astonished by the massive body of the stranger. The trickling water flowing down his body was like paid actors doing wonders to him, and even the scorching heat of the sun kissing him made him look so vividly hot that Celine gasped as she lost touch with reality.

Alexander Voss’s POV The invitations went out discreetly—encrypted messages to a select few. Men like me: ruthless, wealthy, bored with vanilla conquests. Three of them accepted. Victor, a Russian oil baron with a taste for pain. Marcus, a Silicon Valley mogul who collects depravities like fine art. And Elias, an old rival from Wall Street, always eager to see if I can outdo his own twisted games. They arrive at dusk, ushered into the private lounge adjoining the bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling one-way glass separates them from the action— they can see everything, hear every moan through hidden speakers, but my pets won’t know they’re there. Not at first.

“Wanna talk about it?” I sit on the chair opposite him and take a sip. The liquid burns my throat, but it grounds me. I look at him. He doesn't look like he’s suffering. Yet, he looks like he’s suffering. He’s strange. The way he carries himself. I rule out ‘killer’ from my suspicions. A high-end escort? Maybe a struggling model or actor? What am I thinking? This is wrong. But why else would he be hanging around a luxury hotel lobby looking for a challenge?

"I want to find some male escorts and observe them. What's the going rate these days? How much do you think it costs to hire them for a night?" Vermont's lips twitched. 'So that's her plan, huh? 'My girlfriend has always been innocent and pure. She must have picked this up from Stella Hall!' Vermont thought to himself. "Come on, let's go!" Felicity was excited as she dragged him along. Vermont gritted his teeth and pulled her back. "Hiring one male escort could cost you around a hundred thousand for a night. How many are you thinking of hiring?" Felicity's eyes widened. "A hundred thousand? That's expensive!"

I didn't know who the client was yet, just that he'd dropped big money for privacy, and my boss had shoved me toward the door with a wink. 'Make him beg, Shelby.' I spun around the pole, legs wrapping tight as I inverted, my pussy grinding against the cool metal through the thin fabric of my thong. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and cigar smoke, and there he sat in the shadows of the plush leather couch... broad shoulders, dark eyes locked on me like a predator sizing up prey. My heart skipped when I finally made out his face. Malcolm.

Meanwhile, inside the private room at Mystic Club. Wendell Hunt was having a toast with a East Asian man. This man was over hundred 90 cm tall and wore a wolf's fangs as a pendant. He had tanned skin and tone muscles. At first glance, he look like a farmer who work on the fields by the countryside. But the man was, in fact, a powerful figure. He was a mercenary leader who carried out activities in several countries of Asia all year long, his group was known as Wolf Hunter, and his name was Rocky.

We ate our dessert while waiting for the reply. “On a body. It was tattooed on his dick,” Dax texted. “Ouch,” I said and Duke smiled. MCTM. It couldn’t be that simple. They had money and they weren’t above murder, especially of women. “Miles Cartwright and Trett McDowell,” I said. “Miles ran an escort service and Moon shut him down when he decided to play with Celina.” Several things ran through my mind. “They’re gay. Miles opened an animal club in lower Buckeye.” I held up my left hand. “I thought with these fingers, I might be able to get work there.”

“He was an old client of hers. His name is Karl and the stories he has to share, they’d even male your eyes burn.” No surely, Mark wasn’t implying what Dianne thought he was. It wasn’t possible was it, but this had to be it. It made so much sense now. Drake hadn’t been hiding a secret girlfriend. He never had a girlfriend. He had hired himself an escort to intend the wedding with him.