Learning to Trust

  (Interviewing the Billionaire)

  Part 7: Changing Places

  Copyright 2012 B.B. Roman

  Published by Bizotica

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

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  ***

  "You need to act like nothing's changed." The cigarette hovered close to Ramón's lips, even when he wasn't taking a drag from it.

  I sat there in that interrogation room, my legs crossed, my hands shaking. This wasn't getting any easier. "You mean I still have to—"

  "Nothing changes," Ramón said. "You've got to remain the perfect girlfriend—no matter what that requires you to do."

  This was confusion. This was uncertainty and discomfort. I had just been informed that my Dom was an international criminal, one that was involved with sex trafficking and probably murder.

  "Has he murdered people?" I asked, my voice attempting to fill the gap of knowledge in my head.

  "There have been disappearances of competitors that we can only assume were murder. He's very good at what he does, so the bodies never show up."

  The bodies never show up. A chill ran down my spine. I was still convinced that I was going to wake up at any moment and scold myself for allowing this to get to me. The room stayed there, however, and so did Ramón.

  "Marisa, are you all right?" He put out his cigarette in the ashtray.

  "I think I was there when someone was killed," I said slowly, clenching my cup until the styrofoam started to crack. I had fallen into a daze and found myself speaking without a lot of thought.

  "Did you tell anyone about this?"

  "He just said it was his uncle. That he had dementia. That he visited once every few months."

  "Dementia, huh?" Ramón laughed. "Roland doesn't have any surviving family members that we know of. We've been on him for years. I need to know if you told anyone, Marisa. Did you tell anyone?"

  "I told Frederic," I said. "I like him so much. I thought I could trust him."

  "Frederic, huh? We don't know a lot about the guy, but we think he's into whatever Roland is. Only been around for a couple of years, so he must be doing a good job because Roland goes through guys almost as fast as he does women."

  The statement elicited a nervous laugh from me. Roland goes through guys almost as fast as women. I felt so immature giggling at it, but my unexpected circumstance had certainly weakened my composure. "Sorry," I said. "So what do you want me to do?"

  Ramón pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "Before I go any further, I need to let you know that you don't have to do this if you don't want to. You can just leave and be done with it."

  "Roland said his people would find me," I said.

  "Is that so?" he asked. Smoke was again filling the air.

  "I don't really know what it meant, but I didn't like it."

  This day just kept getting more and more interesting. Did I really want to do this? In a way, this was like being the ultimate reporter. I was literally disguising myself to get a story. Was this the moment I'd been working toward my whole life? I almost didn't like that I was being given a choice.

  "Well, if you stay, it could be dangerous," he said after exhaling his smoke toward the ceiling. "I just want you to know that right now. But you could be an invaluable resource, please believe me."

  Danger. International crime. Drugs. Sex trafficking. I felt like I was watching a TV crime drama and an entire season was being compressed into one episode, one fat, bulging, content stuffed episode. Will Marisa be able to take down a multi-billion dollar crime syndicate? Find out this week in the thrilling beginning and conclusion!

  "Give me a light," I said as I grabbed a cigarette. Ramón obliged. I took a quick drag like I'd watched him do—and promptly started coughing. He started laughing.

  "Cut that out," he said. He snatched the cigarette out of my hand and put it out in the ashtray. My eyes watered and my lungs burned. Stupid.

  "Water, please," I begged.

  Ramón walked out to fulfill my request. Had I really thought that smoking for the first time ever would calm my nerves?

  He returned with two cups this time, one with coffee, and one with water. "I hope you can handle both of these." His snide grin still remained intact after returning. I snatched up the water and gulped it down at once. Ah, relief at last!

  "I'll do it," I said, slamming the styrofoam cup down on the desk. The bottom cracked and had I not finished all the water inside, it would have spilled all over the table. A few tiny drops escaped.

  "You're sure?" he said quizzically.

  I sat in silence for a couple of moments considering my options. Roland had already told me I couldn't leave, and honestly, after this whole Ramón thing, I believed him. Somebody would drag me back, even if I was kicking and screaming. They were asking me to go undercover, to uncover the things that I had originally hoped to discover on my own. It was the old me, the me that I had perfected for years. Now I just had to make sure I was a good actor too. Could I do it?

  I bit my lip and caught myself before it started to hurt. "Yes," I said.

  "All right. Let's talk about the plan then. You've got to understand one key thing here: Roland's got one foot inside one of the largest, most legitimate businesses in the world. His other foot is deeply embedded in a world of crime. It's hard to figure out which is which sometimes."

  "So who were the people at the StarChem annual thing?" I asked. "Were those all severely well-dressed criminals?"

  "Maybe in their own weird ways," Ramón said quietly. "But no, those people were all legit. He takes money from legitimate investors and turns it around in black market dealings. Huge returns that he can launder through StarChem. And how can we touch him? It's the biggest chemical company in the country. It would take weeks just to collect the stuff that would then take years to sort out before we even came close to having anything we could actually use in a court of law."

  Ramón gave me an overview that made a lot of sense. The most important part of this was that I remained close to Roland, something that didn't surprise me at all. Yes, that meant I still had to sleep with him, even though the idea seemed weirder than ever. Yep, I had to take one for the team. I was like the wife that was testifying against her own husband.

  Sometime in the near future, Roland was supposed to be carrying out a huge scale drug and weapons deal, one that could only be stopped if I could provide information that linked him directly to it or placed him at the scene of the crime. Roland had countless organizations formed to make his illegal operations as invisible as possible—the other reason why I needed to work from the inside. This deal had been in the works for years, a direct involvement with criminal organizations in Eastern Europe. Roland had probably paid off every law enforcement agency from here to Europe to ensure that this all went down.

  "A number of his competitors have fallen ill and died under mysterious circumstances," Ramón had said. "He's ruthless, but professional."

  I needed to remain close and piece together the puzzle the best I could. Each week going forward I'd meet with Ramón and fill him in on what I'd found. I was already aware that this could go on for months if that's how long it took to get the information—or it could be over in a week. There was just no guarantee. He also gave me a pen that had a GPS tracker embedded inside of it. Just an inconspicuous ink pen that I could keep in my purse. "Not perfect," he said, "but it's a backup."

  I would not be allowed to leave until they pulled me out after this, unless I was in a position of incredible danger. I understood that rule maybe too well.

  Ramón had me back within an hour or so of me leaving the building for "lunch." He dropped me off near where I had gotten in the van. I walked the rest of the way and wisely used the time to sort out my thoughts.

  My slow approach to the building was filled with fear and growing anticipation, but I realized I just had to suck it up and go for it. Who knows how long I would have stuck around on my own anyhow. I just knew a little more than I did before—and had a totally rearranged set of goals. I felt like I was about to attack a fortress, to penetrate and destroy it from the inside. Maybe I was being a bit overdramatic.

  I walked back into my office—I couldn't help but feel like I was clad in an expensive Marisa disguise—and set down my purse. The whole building suddenly looked so different to me. Did any of these people really know what they were up to? I assumed some did and others did not. It was a place that had been totally redefined for me. Two hands gripped my shoulders and startled me. I turned around with a scream.

  "

Frederic!" I said, exasperation in my voice. "God, you scared me!"

  He was grinning from ear to ear. "Feeling better? Where'd you go for lunch?"

  "Huh?" I said. "Feeling better?"

  "Your family dog," he said with a frown. "I hope you didn't already forget about it.

  Shit. Had I already blown it? "Yeah, yeah," I feel better. "I just met a friend for coffee at some place downtown."

  "You didn't meet Ramón, did you?" His expression was cold.

  I felt my legs weakening at once. I dropped to the chair as if it was intentional. Get yourself together, Marisa. "Ramón?" I asked. "Why the hell would I see that scumbag?" What did he know about the real Ramón?

  "Are you sure?" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  "Yes! You really think I'd go see him?"

  "He's always after our secrets—and he's smart. I'd hate for you to wind up involved with such a loser. I won't say anything..."

  "No!" I said. "I didn't see Ramón and that's that." I felt a lot better after he continued with the whole former partner business. That was obviously the image that Ramón was trying to portray.

  "Relax!" He kissed my cheek. "I was just teasing. Don't sweat it."

  "Yeah, it's just the dog thing," I said.

  "Sure. Losing a pet is no good." As usual, he looked at his cell phone and then prepared to leave. "I've got to be on my way though. I'll see you later."

  I gave him an awkward wave and turned back to my desk. There were piles and piles of manifests. As I'd noticed before, some items vanished during the week and were replaced by the final shipment days. It was suspicious—this was probably exactly where illegal transactions were taking place—but I didn't know how far I should dig into it here since Frederic had already noticed my snooping the first time. I would have to give it some thought.

  By the end of the day, I didn't want to leave. I was nervous about facing Roland, nervous that he somehow tracked me. Ramón claimed that the metal detector would have picked up any chips that could have been implanted under my skin to track my whereabouts, but still I was weary. There was no choice, however. The car awaited me.

  I shut off the lights in my office and headed outside. As usual, my ride was there. I climbed inside and once again braced myself to head directly back into Roland's world. When I arrived in the driveway, there was a silver BMW parked there, one that I hadn't seen before. Honestly, Roland knew so many people that it was nearly impossible to keep track of them.

  When I stepped onto the porch, a bald man in a leather jacket stepped out and walked past me like I wasn't even there. He hopped in his sports car and drove off before I had even stepped inside. This was my big moment, the time when the show really began.

  "Who was that?" I asked as I walked in. Roland was standing there in the living room in actual clothes for the first time since the big company event. As usual, he didn't look surprised to see me.

  "Curious, are we?" he asked. "That's my friend Lukas." He crept toward me and wrapped his arm around my waist.

  "How do you even keep track of all of them?" Oh shit, my heart was pounding. This was all so normal, but now that I knew what I knew, I felt like I was on stage in front of half of the world. Stay cool.

  "Pet, you're a little worked up, aren't you? Relax." Roland spun me around and started to massage my shoulders, his hands expertly kneading away all of the tension I was holding there.

  "Oh my god," I remarked. "That feels so nice." It felt like betrayal—but it felt good.

  "Busy day today, pet? They say you're doing well at the office."

  "They? Who is they?" I felt my heart start to flutter again and so I took a deep breath.

  "My! You are worked up." His hands glided down my back, rubbing in circles that made me further appreciate his prowess. They started to wander toward the front of me. "I think I know what you need." His erection pressed against my butt.

  "But Roland," I whined. I was freshly conflicted. Morally, I didn't want to do any of this, but the greater good required that I did—temporarily, at least. Interesting. "Right now? I just got home."

  "Is something the matter, pet? Usually you're so eager."

  Damnit! He was right. If I was going to ensure that he didn't suspect anything, I'd have to maintain business as usual. I was so tense because I was trying not to get aroused, trying so hard to not fall under his spell. His fingers were sliding under the elastic waistband of my panties and crawling against the soft curls on my mound. I knew exactly where this was headed.

  And then he was stroking my clit and I was purring, my cares melting away as if I'd never experienced a thing. Maybe I wouldn't really have to try...

  "You can't fool me," he said, his breath tickling against the nape of my neck. He kissed me there several times as his fingers eased into my wetness. By that point, it wasn't just wetness—it was a wet heat, moisture that was scorching. His body started to inch me toward the couch, the location that satisfied his apparent requirement of closest.

  Roland stayed behind me the whole time, a fact I appreciated because it meant I wasn't looking him in the eyes. His breath started to come quicker as he bent me forward onto the cushions and pulled down my skirt with the fingers that were previously inside of me. "God, this ass," he remarked. He took my panties away like they were something that annoyed him, an unnecessary obstacle that was keeping him from his prize. He kissed each cheek with admiration, delicately peppering that soft flesh with a dollop of saliva

  From beneath, he slid his fingers into me again, ensuring that he brushed against my throbbing clit with each in and out motion. I was pulsing against his hand, my nerves firing with excitement as my body craved him. All of my previous inhibitions were lost in the moment as desire clouded my mind like a drug. Sometimes I worried that I might overdose on Roland.

  I heard that unmistakable sound of Roland unzipping his pants and then the clink as the metal button struck the floor. His hardened length crept between my ass checks as he proceeded to tempt me, to make me beg for it. "You remember this couch, pet? The first time I fucked you here?"

  "Yes," I whined. I could feel those tiny twitches in his erection every time his heart beat. His hand pressed into the space between my shoulder blades and forced me against the couch until I was lined up with his cock.

  "You were so curious back then," he said. "So pure." He lightly caressed my ass with his other hand—such a gentle and thoughtful move—and then penetrated me all at once. I let out a gasp that was muffled by the couch. "Oh god," he remarked. "Such a sweet little pussy."

  He felt so big, bigger than usual for no obvious reason—perhaps it was just because there was a tinge of aggression in his movements. I cried out as his hips started to swing, our juices coalescing inside of me. "Yet, pet," he moaned, "you've learned so much now."

  Roland slammed into me with relentless fervor, the sound of his thighs slapping my backside almost as loud as the continuous groans he produced. In a way, I felt like he was forcing me to relive our introduction, our consummation of the relationship. I had originally slept with him only because I sought to advance my career, a vulnerable woman in a very vulnerable position. Now when we did this, it was like we couldn't resist, our bodies screaming until we finally gave in.

  I was pressed against the couch, continuing to tell my secrets directly to the cushions. Saliva pooled beneath my lips. "Now you understand my world," he cried out, "and I'm so deep in yours too." The words sent chills up my spine. He was completely in control.

  Every thrust shook me like an earthquake. The walls of my pussy clenched around him, tightening as if it would entice him to go even deeper into my womb. This was the very thing that I had been so frightened about after meeting with Ramón—and now I could barely think straight.

  "I took you, pet," I growled. "I made you mine! I showed you things you'd never experienced before." Every word was accentuated by a thrust, like it was the only way he could speak to me. I was quickly approaching bliss, my climax so close now. My fingers clenched the cushions around me for support. Roland just kept going faster and faster.

  "God, I fucked you right here, right here," he said. "You were in a trance." The sounds of sex filled the room. I couldn't last much longer. He angled his body forward and shoved me even harder against the couch with his hands. And with that, he started to explore even deeper. I lost it.

 

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