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“She was wearing a wire at the fundraiser. Actually, not just that fundraiser. Every time she was out with her father, she wore one. I guess they thought no one would pay attention to her as much as her father, and unfortunately, they were right. She caught a lot of conversations on tape she shouldn’t have.”
Damn. Thats actually really smart if it was her wearing the wire. Lmaaooo. But also, I don’t think she did.
I expect to be angry, but before the anger can reach me, confusion and apprehension are center stage. In the past, I always thought the worst about Aspen. Every time, I blamed her for everything right away, never giving her the benefit of the doubt.
Even if she wore a wire, her father probably made her do it. Also, this was a year ago, before we knew each other well. A lot of things have happened since then. So, before I let the anger and betrayal seep in, I need to get her side of the story. As long as she is honest with me, I will forgive her. I can see past this.
Not too gently, I slide in and out of her cunt. With each thrust, I bury myself so deep, my balls slap against her ass, and her whole body moves up on the bed. It doesn’t take her long before she grows wet for me, and her body becomes pliant in my hold. That’s when I decide to add a little pressure to the side of her throat, on her carotid artery.
Her thighs suddenly start quivering, a soft moan slips from her lips, and then her cunt squeezes me tighter than my hand on her neck. Her back arches, and her head falls back into the pillow. Her pussy pulses around my cock as her orgasm washes over her, and my own comes barreling toward me.
For a moment, I just stare at her, using the post-sex haze over my brain to suppress reality, and I simply admire her beauty. Even with her face red, her hair a mess, and mascara smeared, she is so fucking beautiful. I could get lost in her. Maybe I already have. She is like a siren, and I’m a stupid sailor heading blindly to my death.
“Have you wondered why my parents weren’t at the founders’ ball? It’s because my mother killed my father… and I helped her.” A wicked smile spreads across her lips, and the murderous glint in her eyes tells me she is not lying. Anja killed her father. Maybe I underestimated her.
“I don’t know how we can fix the trust, but if you really want to make it up to me, you could start with two things. One, I want to know how you got those recordings. Two, I want you to help me make Matteo’s life miserable. I’ve started already, but it’s time to kick things up a notch.”
“I’m jealous of a lot of things, but I won’t die from it.” Kicking off her one shoe, she lifts her legs onto the bed and turns away from me. “Close the door on your way out, please.” “Since you asked so nicely,” I grit out, annoyed by the way I feel as I listen to her defeated voice.

