A Fatal Pleasure [Fiction]


Anna Shvets via Pexels, edited with Canva

Seated in the centre of the king-size bed, his hands, spread-eagle and tied to corners of the bed with leather cuffs, his eyes covered with a silk blindfold, Trevor Clooney felt the plush mattress dip as Magnolia climbed on it and drew close to him.

He was excited.

Magnolia couldn't be her real name but who cares. He'd call her whatever she wanted. She'd promised him untold pleasures and that was all that mattered.

His imagination couldn't stop running. His 6 pm meeting with members of the presidential committee on foreign relations headed by the Secretary of State could wait.

Yes. The Secretary Of State would have to wait because he called the shots now. He alone had the flash drive containing the vital data detrimental to the completion of the trade treaty with Cape Verde and Seychelles. Data he discreetly acquired from the dark web cost him millions of dollars in bitcoin. He planned to recoup double of it back from the Secretary of State.

But first, the crypto market must stay red for his plans to work perfectly.

In the meantime, a little sensual pleasure would boost his mental energy to take on the Committee. Especially that intractable woman!

He drew in a sharp breath as he felt the soft wisps of the flogger touch his chest. He moaned and shivered.

"Magnolia, my sweet. Don't keep me waiting. I'm an important and impatient man …"

"Is that so?"

He froze at the sound of the familiar voice. Even if he was deep in sleep and heard the same voice, he would know it was the Secretary. He tried to pull off the blindfold but the tightness of the leather cuffs reminded him he was restrained.

"Madam Secretary?" He whispered, unsure.

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The vibrations of her encrypted iPhone on the desk alerted her to the call she'd been waiting for. She glanced at the door, her two personal assistants got the message and quickly left the office.

"Yes. Speak freely."

"I found the drive. All classified data are contained in it."

"Any copies?"

"No. He didn't see this coming or he would have made one."

"Fine. The other half of your payment is being wired as we speak. Destroy it."

"Consider it done, Miranda. You know I'll do this for you, without the payment."

"I insist. Where is Trevor Clooney now?"

A raspy chuckle. "Bound like a goat and ready for your slaughter."

"Good. Shat yerkar."

"Shat yerkar."

Secretary of State, Ms Miranda Kerr stood, smoothed her designer's trouser suit, donned her dark spectacle and headed out of her office to visit the traitor, Trevor Clooney.

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She softly ran the flogger down his neck to his chest again. Beads of sweat had formed on his receding hairline and eyebrows.

"M-madam Secretary. This is embarrassing. I-I—"

She blew air into his ear. He turned sharply in her direction, trembling.

"What would be embarrassing," Miranda whispered, "is if you had released the Cape Verde classified data to the world right under my nose."

Trevor struggled to free his hands from the handcuffs but it was an exercise in futility. He chose that moment to think of his wife and son vacationing at their vineyard in Italy. He knew he was not coming back from this.

He should have had the interview with the reporter before seeking his pleasure. He felt Miranda Kerr leave the bed.

"Please Miranda. I can be of immense use to you and the President—"

"You have served your purpose and are therefore expendable. See you in hell, Clooney," Miranda said and walked out of the room.

"Wait. Please. Miranda!"

A single bullet to the heart from a Sig Sauer P365 with a suppressor silenced Trevor Clooney permanently. Four men dressed in overalls with a bag walked into the room quietly to clean up the scene.

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