Mrs. Panty Dropper [Interracial(B.2/2)]

Ch.8

Daddy, aka Darren, will always be my favorite character, here's another photo of him*

________________

Darren Demetrio

I woke up on this Saturday wishing I hadn't. I hadn't talked to my wife nor daughter in the past week and it was taking a toll on me. Sex was also missing from my daily life and only one woman could make me feel on edge each time. I turned off the alarm at 9 A.M. and swung my legs over the large and empty bed.

I looked up at the mirror that reflects our bed and stared at the mess on my head I call my hair. Maybe I'd shave it off just to feel some type of power over myself, maybe not. I reached for my phone on the dresser and went through notifications and one particular text message. It was from Iyanna.

I read the message and got changed before I called my personal barber for a haircut. He arrived shortly to line the edges and trim the top. I paid and changed my clothing once again to leave and meet where Iyanna's text message said to.

It was a sandwich parlor I wasn't too fond of; I thought of it as a poor man's food, unless of course my wife made them. I tucked my gun under my shirt before walking in nonchalantly and spotted Iyanna Jones sitting in one of the far booths.

I entered the booth, opposite of her, and noticed her head down and looking into a file.

"Miss Jones." I spoke. She looked up, pushing reading glasses I'm assuming up on her face, and frowned.

"I-I need your help, or something, I don't know what to do." she whispered.

"This place is safe, my phone would've alerted me if it was wired or someone on my hit list was present, you know?" I laughed. She didn't crack a single smile. I cleared my throat for her to speak again.

"My umm, my mother and aunt were killed." she said. My face dropped when she said that and I instantly felt eerie inside. "And I'm sure it was by that guy in New York."

"Fuck, I am so sorry-"

"Please just, do something because that bastard broke into my childhood home to kill a woman with cancer and another one with a lung disease. He can't get away with this." her teeth gritted.

"Okay I don't know what to do about-"

"Then you better figure this god-damn thing out." she hit the table, grabbing the attention of the tables close to us. She began to cry. I was unsure what to do since I was used to only comforting either my mother or wife, not another woman.

"I swear as long as I live that I will try my best to kill this man and seek vengeance in not only yours, but my family name as well." I said. She reached and grabbed my hands over the table, nodding.

"Thank you so much." she inaudibly said.

"And if you don't mind, I'd love for you to work for me again. I know we started on the wrong foot but this business relationship could really work. I already put my trust into you, the worst I can do is kill you." I laughed.

She looked at me unsurely and I cleared my throat yet again. "Just a joke." I reassured. I grabbed a coffee from this horrid sandwich parlor, paid, and left to go to my many offices in Italy. I drove what seemed like hours to Milan and parked my car in the warehouse garage. It was always good to have many connections in the state I live in, just in case I had to put my family into hiding, which would never happen.

I went into my personal office. I shared the warehouse with another Italian boss that my father knew. I doubt he found out that my father was killed. I had an uneasy feeling each time I visited this office, Milan wasn't my first choice for a secluded office either.