A Knife on His Lap|| Bodyguard AU

Stone cold Monster

Warning: This chapter contains topics that might upset some people. Viewer discretion is advised.

~Alexie Ivanov~

Descending the stairs with a playful demeanor, I gestured to the pacing figure ahead of me, signaling that I was in a considerably brighter mood. A sly smile graced my lips as I approached him, and in an instant, his expression transformed, his face lighting up. He extended his arms for a hug, but I diplomatically sidestepped, opting to pat his arm instead. Clearing his throat, he responded, "It appears a charming pussy was all it took to lift your spirits. You should have informed me earlier; I could have arranged the finest whores for you!"

"Hmm," I murmured, retrieving a cigar from the slide box on the buffet. Turning to the man, I responded, "No, she simply caught my attention."

"Oh, my," he tried to coax me, "If I had known your preference, haha..." he joked, "Maybe I should give her a try later as well."

My smile transformed into a glare as I retorted, "Don't touch what's mine," my warning delivered in a low but forceful tone. Fear flickered in his eyes, and he glanced nervously at Mcdonald, seeking some semblance of help. Not only was I Madhuri's brother, but the intrusion of this man on her could jeopardize my plans. I needed Madhuri to be shielded from unwanted attention.

The uncomfortable tension lingered in the air, prompting me to ease it. I smoothly slid into the seat right beside the head of the dining table, offering a disarming smile to the bewildered man. "Come on, Pierre, I didn't come here to be bored. In fact, if you can entertain me, I might share a significant secret with you," I whispered the last part meaningfully. The suggestion not only unsettled Pierre but also caused Ronald to tense up at the implication.

The man lumbered his way toward the head and settled into the seat, his odor assaulting my nostrils, but sometimes a man must endure discomfort to achieve his objectives. Coughing, he began, "Of course, of course. How do we showcase our hospitality to our esteemed guest?"

"Well," I started, concentrating on placing the cigar into its cutter and chopping off the end as Albert approached with a lighter. After lighting it, I took a puff, exhaling slowly. "I've heard about the intriguing nightlife that people enjoy in Cannes."

At my statement, the man gulped, fully grasping my implications. I was referring to the yacht parties hosted by multimillionaires on their luxurious vessels. On the surface, these gatherings might appear to be ordinary parties with a mix of celebrities, politicians, and businesspeople. However, beneath the veneer of normalcy, a darker reality unfolded—a world of excess and debauchery that made one question the humanity of the attendees.

Behind the scenes of what seemed like a typical party were indulgences that stretched the limits of morality. From drugs and drinks to kids as young as they could get, every conceivable vice found a place in the playbook of debauchery. What made it worse was that these parties not only attracted the wealthy elite but also operated like pyramid schemes, luring in the desperate and those yearning for anything from connections to money to a means of survival.

The piggy, aware of the heightened scrutiny on such excesses from the public and the authorities, understood the potential risks involved. The Council, no doubt, frowned upon such attention. I could discern his hesitation. However, as history has repeatedly shown, the insatiable nature of the 'piggies,' their boundless greed, and unbridled dicks knew no limits. Predictably, the man's response gleamed with eagerness, "Sure, sure, why not! Albert, prepare everything. Call everyone."

"Great," I said, walking with him in tow toward the deck. "I'll be looking forward to tonight, Pierre." Narrowing my eyes, I added in a low tone, "Don't disappoint me." With that, I ascended to the upper deck with the clown trailing behind.