Chapter 1: Opening Image
Monica: (leaning against the door frame, arms crossed) "You're David Rios. I've heard a lot about you."
David: (smirking) "Oh, I hope it was all good, Detective Thompson. I do try to make an impression."
Monica: (raising an eyebrow) "Is that what you call it? I'd say you're more of a pain in the ass."
David: (chuckling) "Well, I do have a certain...talent for getting under people's skin. But I must say, you're not what I expected."
Monica: (tensing) "And what did you expect, Rios?"
David: (leaning back in his chair, eyes roaming over Monica's figure) "Someone less...stunning. You're like a fine wine, Detective. Aged to perfection."
Monica: (clenching her jaw) "I'm not here for your cheap pick-up lines, Rios. I want information."
David: (grinning) "Oh, I have information, all right. But I'm afraid it's going to cost you more than a pretty smile."
Monica: (straightening up, her voice cold) "I'm not playing your games, Rios. You're going to tell me what I want to know, and you're going to do it now."
Monica's eyes flashed as he reluctantly let her hand free, but he simply smiled at the rise he was getting out of her. Monica stared back at him, not backing down, her eyes blazing.
Joel stepped between the two again, sensing Monica ready to boil over. In times like these, Joel knew to step in and take the reins. Monica was an amazing detective, but she didn't always have the longest fuse for shit like this.
"Are you aware of how much trouble you could be in?" Joel pointed out firmly. "Are you aware of your connection to the death of Mayor Chapin?"
Finally, the younger man began to engage with the male detective, glancing his way and smiling again.
"My connection? Of course!" he replied, stepping back and smiling, clearly not too worried about the whole thing. "I'm fully aware of the fact that one of my employees was in the room with him when he died. Poor girl didn't need to see that. I hope you don't think she did anything wrong. She's one of my best! Top tier body!" He invited the two detectives to sit at the other end of the table as he returned to his seat in the booth.
The female detective ignored his final comment, his piggish valuing of a woman based solely on her body, trying to keep her cool.
"If she's one of your best, why'd you offer her up to your brother for that job? You had to know he was up to no good..." Monica spat out. He analyzed her question, smiling inwardly as the male detective stepped in.
"What we're trying to say is... how did one of your employees end up at that hotel with the mayor?" Joel asked more fairly. David barely looked at the male detective, still hungrily examining the gorgeous female detective seated across from him. The seats were angled in such a way where David and Monica were facing one another, staring each other down as Joel tried to drive the proceedings. David sat back, legs spread, as if trying to get her to look between them. Unamused, she didn't take the bait, her trained gaze never leaving the suspect's face as long as he was staring her down. Realizing she wasn't gonna engage, he had no choice but to respond to the questions the other detective was asking. David took a deep breath before responding, glancing at Joel.
"These girls... part of the reason they work at some of the best clubs in the city is that they're hard workers," David began in a polished fashion, smirking as he swore he saw in his periphery Monica's eyes flicking downwards towards his crotch as soon he looked away from her. "It's not uncommon for them to work at multiple locations across the city. Our schedules are very busy... a LOT of women want to take their clothes off in my clubs," he said, staring pointedly at Monica. Again, she gritted her teeth, squirming in her seat as she was ready to boil over at the piece of shit across from her.
"So, you're saying it wasn't your decision to send Simone over to the hotel that night?" Joel asked. David glanced around, as if asked what he wanted for dinner, and his reply maintained the same disinterested tone.
"My decision? No..." David replied, looking across at Monica, as if obsessed with the sight of this gorgeous lady detective. His eyes glanced down at Monica's gigantic breasts again, poised over the tabletop as they all talked, unwittingly put on display despite being covered up in her conventional top. Her boobs were so big that even this sight was sexier than most women's chests completely exposed for him.
"Then, who..." Joel began, but David interrupted, waving off the detective's question.
"I'm sorry, I'd be remiss to not have someone as stunning as you walk into a club like mine and not at the very least offer you a job," he stated to Monica, grinning, as if he was knowingly trying to get under the buttoned-up detective's skin even further. "We're always happy to have new girls join the team, and believe me... the best girls, I mean the premium, top of the line women... they probably make more money in a year than you do working for the police. And Detective... you've got them all beat! You could be a legend! We could arrange an audition right now, if you want..."
"Hey!" Joel called out, angry on his partner's behalf, slamming his palm on the table. This prevented him from noticing Monica rise from her seat, unable to stop her till it was too late. David watched her move, curious but unafraid. Monica moved with purpose, approaching the man across from her as quick as a flash. Before he could react, she did the same exact move she did to the gangbanger Carlos a few weeks prior, raising her foot up and stomping it between the seated man's spread legs, inches from his crotch.
David didn't react in the slightest.
With ice-water in his veins, he didn't budge at all, watching this whole thing play out with an almost impressed amusement. Nonetheless, Monica carried on as if he were scared, the fury on her face bared, the confident woman unable to take the young asshole's rude comments anymore.
"You say one more thing about me, and I swear to fucking God I'll make sure you end up in the worst fucking prison on the planet! You will regret speaking to me or any woman this way!" Monica spat out, barely containing herself.
And still, David didn't move, his eyes flashing with desire for the cop as she screamed at him like this. She saw his lust naked on his face, and the fact that he didn't react to this act with the fear she wanted him to only made her more upset.
Clearly, David wasn't scared of her in the slightest.
A few things stopped her from letting the moment getting out of control. First, Joel had leapt up to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away. He could empathize with the desire to bash this fucker's balls into dust, but they couldn't treat a witness this way. David's bodyguard began to approach in an attempt to cool down the situation as well, but a single quick glance from the youngest son of the most powerful mob family in the city waved him off.
Additionally, there was a new presence in the room. A young woman, a blonde dancer, had appeared behind the two detectives, not for any reason beyond getting David's approval for her outfit. As Joel pulled his partner back out of the way, David's attempts to defuse the situation entailed engaging with the dancer.
"Yes, Bethany?" David asked, undaunted, turning his attention to the dancer.
"Sorry to interrupt," the stripper said nervously, sensing she'd gotten in the middle of something. "I just wanted to get your opinion," she said, holding her arms out. Her outfit was simple in its filth. A red and black bikini style top, barely containing her large breasts. On her arms she wore ripped up mesh coverings, which she wore as sleeves. Her legs were also adorned with mesh stockings, and her nether-regions were covered with a pair skimpy bikini-style bottoms that matched her top.
"You look great, babe," David replied, grinning as he examined her. "Just add on a thong beneath your bikini bottoms as well. You know how I love thongs! And pull it up out from underneath, up over your hips, so the crowd can see it. Then, you'll be perfect, darling." At this appraisal, Bethany grinned, happy that David was so pleased with her outfit, and she stepped away quickly, eager to escape the awkward moment.
But her presence had taken some of the immediate tension out of the moment. Joel pulled his partner away, and the interruption had allowed her to regain some control over herself. Joel did his best to ease the tension.
"I apologize about that," Joel said, trying to prevent the young douchebag from filing a complaint.
"Don't apologize to him," Monica replied, annoyed with Joel even if deep down she knew he was right.
"It's fine," David replied calmly with an amused grin, not bothered at all by what had happened, more amused than anything. "Luckily, she didn't hit anything."
"Probably easy to miss!" Monica spat out. At this, David merely raised his eyebrow and gave her another pointed look.
"Do you want to bet on that? I think we both know you're wrong..." he stated with a confidence that was undeniable. Sensing his partner about to react strongly, her face going red with fury, Joel asserted himself again.
"Okay, OKAY!" Joel stepped up, inserting himself between them again. "Monica, calm down. David, shut your mouth about my partner. You keep it up, we'll take you down to the station. You need to answer our questions, and that's it! Got it?"
David felt a few smart comments on the tip of his tongue, but opting to keep the peace, he held his hands up, saying he'd back down. As a peace offering, he changed the subject, gesturing with his thumb at the blonde dancer who'd interrupted them as she departed, wearing a proud grin.
"That chick came in here about a year ago looking for a job, swearing to high heaven that she only wanted to work the bar. No desire to dance," David began. "I said sure, why not? She had great experience, and was highly recommended. And plus... I certainly didn't mind having another pretty creature around here. But I knew she'd change her mind. They all do. A girl like that, watching from the back of the room as all the other girls bared it all on stage... being the center of attention, getting treated like goddesses... I knew it wouldn't be long till she was center stage, showing off the goods. The lure of the pole is a real thing, detectives, haha..." He punctuated this with an obnoxious laugh, glancing at the two cops before letting his eyes settle on Monica again. Neither of the two detectives were interested in story-time, choosing not to engage on this subject. Joel simply stared back at David, unamused, while Monica looked away, clearly still upset, unwilling to engage with David's bullshit for fear she'd lose her temper again.
"Can we just... continue?" Joel asked, to both Monica and David. Monica gave her partner a look that answered his question, communicating that she was ready to do just that. She'd lost her cool, but she was experienced enough to not let her dislike of David get in the way of the investigation. Joel understood that, which was why, in truth, this question was more directed to the younger man, trying to ensure he'd behave himself and stay focused on the task at hand. David allowed himself the smallest glance at the older man, long enough to nod in assent, letting him know he was willing to resume the questioning. The peace now brokered, Joel continued his questioning.
"Whose decision was it to send Simone to the hotel that night?" Joel asked, returning to his seat, watching Monica do so as well. David shrugged.
"Above my paygrade. They don't tell me these things. It's communicated to me to send some girls over there for the night, and that's what I do," David replied, his response carrying a tone that came across as if he was not exactly speaking the truth, which both detectives picked up on.
"Are you really that disrespected by your family that they don't even keep you in the loop about such a major thing?" Monica asked, making it a point to poke at the young punk's ego. And while his smirk faded somewhat at this targeted comment, he had a response ready.
"Those in charge aren't required to explain themselves to anyone," David explained. "I understand that as much as anybody does."
"So, you aren't bothered by the fact that your older brother put one of your best girls in danger without you knowing it?" Monica asked, stabbing in the dark but hoping it would hit. But at this, he simply smiled at the female detective.
"This is quite the story you've come up with," he replied, laughing to himself. "I had the understanding that the mayor dropped dead of a heart attack. I understand you guys doing your due diligence, but you're seeing what you want to see. You clearly don't know my brother. He lacks the imagination to come up with such a scheme."
"Then who does?" Monica asked pointedly, looking right back at him, not backing down. He smirked again, shrugging.
"I don't know. Maybe ask one of my so-called bosses who makes the big decisions," he countered. "I'm just a humble young man running a perfectly reputable strip club and trying to get through the day."
"How do you feel about your brother?" Joel stepped in. Still staring at the woman across from him, David responded to the question.
"My brother's an asshole," David replied. "But I'm sure that's not news to you."
"So, if he's such an asshole, why not help us out?" Joel inquired. David shook his head, and rolled his eyes but still didn't deign to glance back over at the male detective.
"You don't go against the family. Any moron would understand that," David stated, regarding Joel's question as a dumb one. "Even I, the little brother who they only trust to run the strip clubs, understands that the Delvecchio family name means something. I would think you two would as well." David's handsome face then lit up, an idea hitting him that he could not keep contained. "But hey, I'm not above having my mind changed. Perhaps one of you could convince me to do so... maybe over dinner?" He said this while giving another insistent look at the woman seated across from him.
Rolling her eyes, way past done with David's frat-boy comments and ready to explode, she pushed her seat back. Sharing a glance with her partner that communicated that she would do something she'd regret if she had to be around this asshole any longer, he nodded at her as she rose to her feet.
"I'll be in the car," Monica spat out. As she did, she straightened her leather jacket, turned on her heel, and walked away, but not before looking back and staring holes into David, a fearsome scowl on her face, a stare that had made far more fearsome men crumble. But David was not most men. He simply grinned back at her as she did this, unaffected.
Joel watched her leave, unhappy that things had reached the point where she had to storm off, and annoyed that it didn't seem like they would be getting any answers. This had gone about as poorly as possible. He had some hope that with Monica out of their proximity, David might be able to focus on the task at hand. But as Joel turned away from his departing partner to look at the punk across the table, readying to resume their questioning, he was stopped by the smug fucking smirk on that douchebag's face. He was suddenly filled with the same urge to slam his face into the table in that Monica must have had, and he realized it might be best to follow his partner's lead and end this now before he was able to rile up a bad reaction out of the experienced detective.
Joel moved to stand when suddenly David stood up and reached across the table, stopping the cop from walking in front of him.
"Hold on, hold on..." he said quickly, staring straight ahead. Following his gaze, Joel looked to where he was looking, only for his annoyance to increase. He was staring right at Monica's perfectly shaped butt shaking side-to-side as she walked. Even though she had dressed down a bit for this questioning, it was hard to prevent her first-class ass from standing out, and the professional, high-heeled sandals she had on inadvertently emphasized her incredible rear-end. Despite Joel's obvious dislike for the guy, he could almost empathize with him in this moment. Monica's round, juicy ass looked incredible in whatever she wore, and it had fueled many fantasies of Joel's, but knowing that this unworthy douchebag was gazing at his partner's perfect backside filled him with boiling anger. David didn't deserve to be so lucky. Joel looked back at him, eyes narrowing, only to see the younger man bite his lower lip with approval for what he was seeing.
"That chick knows what she's doing," David stated, shaking his head in admiration. "Dresses down, acts all tough, but she wears heels like that because that bitch knows how good her ass looks when she's wearing them. She wants to be checked out..."
"Hey, you fucking..." Joel began, his tone getting firmer.
"Dude, you tapping that?" he asked with a conspiratorial grin, as if they were bros, and now that Monica was out of the room, they were free to relax and have guy talk about chicks.
"That's my partner, jag-off. You don't get to talk about her like that!" Joel warned him, but the douchebag was undeterred, still gazing at Monica's bouncing ass as she walked away, turning a corner. Only then, once she was out of sight, did he turn back to face the remaining detective.
"So, did you tap that yet?" he asked again with a smile, as if him and Joel were talking about women at the bar. His tone had so quickly shifted now that it was just them, rescinding his calm, controlled presence, speaking more relaxed and loosely. The cold stare Joel gave him as he resisted the urge to punch him in the face gave him all the answer he needed. He seemed absolutely gob-smacked that Joel hadn't gotten in Monica's pants. "Dude! How could you work around that fox every fucking day without getting all up in that bitch every chance you could? That chick is a piece of ass! And she's so clearly gagging for it! If I was you, I wouldn't have made that mistake. I wouldn't have wasted time. I would have been plowing her within a week."
That was the last straw.
Before Joel could think twice, he took a grip of David's shirt and pushed him back against the wall roughly.
"That 'chick'... she's Detective Palmer to you! And you will treat her with respect! Got it?" Joel said firmly. David said nothing, only smirking. They both knew it would be a really bad idea for the detective to harm him in any way, and seeing that big hulking bodyguard making his presence known, Joel reluctantly released him and took a step back.
"You sweet on her, man?" David asked, straightening his shirt. Joel's eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists. He was testing Joel's patience. Despite his lack of respect for this fucker, he realized David was perceptive enough to see what was driving Joel's protectiveness. "Dude, you are, aren't you? Shit, man... I'm sorry. Must be torture to be around that fucking body all day and never once get a piece of that. And dude... hate to break it to you, but you never will. Because that chick... she's super into me," he proclaimed, grinning wide, his words adopting a sing-song tone as he said.
"What?" Joel asked, shaking his head. Was this dude completely clueless? "Tell me... what about what just happened makes you think that, genius?"
"Did you see the way she was looking at me the whole time?" he began. "The way she shook her ass as she walked away... that wasn't for you... it was for me, bro. You might not like to hear it, but that partner of yours wants the dick!" he said, grabbing at his own bulge. Joel's eyes followed him as he did this until he realized what he was doing, as well as the heft of the bulge he was grabbing, before looking away in disgust.
"You know what, I should..." Joel began, angrily approaching him again, but the hefty bodyguard blocked his path, pushing Joel away. Angrily, the detective stepped back, accepting that he couldn't get past the bodyguard. Behind him, David smiled smugly.
"Sorry man... you're gonna miss out. That chick isn't built to enforce the law. She's built to work the pole... both the one on stage, and my own," he affirmed, grabbing at himself again. "And the longer you and Detective Tits keep poking at me and my family's business, the more chances I'm gonna have to convince her of that. So, you really should drop this," he warned, his tone getting firmer, the douchebag brimming with overconfidence. "Because I can tell you how this story's gonna end if you don't. This ends with me on top. I walk away scot-free, and you walk away a miserable, impotent failure. And your partner? Detective Palmer? She'll be on her knees, lips wrapped around the root of my rod, sucking me off like the nasty fucking whore she's meant to be, because she's desperate for a real man. In the moment when you realize how badly you've failed, my balls will be resting on her chin." Joel moved to jump at him for making such a lewd comment about Monica, but the bodyguard stopped him.
panties... seeing the sides of her round breasts from behind... it powered a lot of fantasies about her. And much like the missed opportunity with her working at a strip club, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he'd passed her open door mere seconds prior, before she put her underwear on. But someday, that moment would come.
Someday.
************
Monica Palmer was frustrated, but this wasn't anything new.
Standing against her car, a tangle of nerves and anger, she was upset at herself for losing her cool in there. Unfortunately, that had been happening more and more frequently.
Why did everything have to be so fucking difficult?
Nothing had been going right lately. Her work, her life goal of taking down the mob, her personal life... It felt like she was doing everything she could, living a just, moral life, doing things the right way... and she met roadblock after roadblock, as if she was penalized for it. And when there was a small bit of hope, like she felt when Mayor Chapin was elected, it would be snuffed out. Her work, taking down criminals... it felt like an unwinnable battle. She was doing her best, but she couldn't say the same about a lot of her peers, who seemed resigned to accept the fact that the criminals who ran this town were an unbeatable opponent. They gave in. They gave up trying. A lot of them sold out. They lost hope in the justice of the world. But Monica... she would never do that.
Monica had gotten into this line of work for the right reason. She grew up in a family of cops, most of her brother's going into law enforcement of one kind or another. This was all inspired by her father, Arthur, who was her hero. A cop who did things the right way, who railed against the mob, who dedicated his life to fighting this unwinnable fight. She was inspired to follow in his footsteps long before his downfall. When rumors arose that he was on the take, that he was no better than the mob by taking kickbacks from the very men she tried to fight... that started a fire in Monica that still hadn't been snuffed. She promised herself that she would take down the mob one day, not only because it was the right thing to do, but also to prove her father's innocence. Arthur had passed a few years ago, with his name dragged in the dirt due to those false accusations... Monica would avenge him. She would never stop fighting the mob.
Deep down, she knew this wasn't the healthiest existence, being so obsessed with her work, and her goal of taking down the mob. She didn't have many friends... she was too intense and too career focused for that. She had her family, of course, but they were all doing their own thing. Most had started families of their own. Monica hadn't. Her dating life was stagnant. She had the occasional date, but despite her incredible looks, most found her a difficult woman to date. She worked long hours, and her work was of true importance, making her dates' life problems seem trivial in comparison. She was married to her job, and most men who tried to date her quickly realized they played second fiddle to her work as a police officer.
At least she had Joel.
Monica was slow to warm up to him when they first met over a decade prior, during training. She had a bit of a shield up against guys who tried to sidle up to her, being able to see through them to their true intentions quite easily. And while, deep down, she recognized that Joel's intentions weren't 100% pure during their first meeting, she soon realized that he was cut from the same cloth as her. A good person. In it for the right reasons. He grew up in similar circumstances, his family in the criminal justice system, same as her. And he soon proved that he was just as dedicated to taking down the mob as she was.
He was the only man that understood her.
No man was as patient and kind with her as Joel was. No man knew how to cool her boiling temper like he could. No other man could read her wordlessly like he could. Even in that club with that fucking douchebag shamelessly hitting on her, Joel was tapped in to her feelings, stepping in before she realized she was losing her cool. She'd never felt more understood by another person than with him, and in a line of work where people seemed to be allergic to doing the right thing, Joel proved himself to be an inspiration for her. A shining star in a sea of darkness.
To say she loved him would be saying too little.
It was deeper than that. They understood each other. They were aligned. They were partners, not just as detectives but as people. It felt dramatic to call them soulmates, but she couldn't think of a better word to describe it. Even when he was married, or when she was dating someone, they felt a pull towards each other. To reduce it to something solely romantic felt like too narrow of a description. It wasn't about that... not that she was opposed to it. Her point was that it was something deeper than attraction. Deeper than such surface level things. They'd been working together for years now, always circling each other even as they'd lived their own lives, just waiting for that perfect moment. She too felt the same inevitability that Joel did.
People had always brought it up to her, speculating whether she and Joel were dating. And they often did so in a tone that they thought she could do better. And this only made her protective instincts for her partner flare up. Joel wasn't a model, but he was good looking. Tall, in good shape, with a dark sense of humor that matched her own. The stress of being a cop wore at him, sure, as he was losing some of his hair, but compared to some of his peers, he was doing damn good. The benefits of having a good soul.
So, in that sense, he was damn near the opposite of that punk David Delvecchio. Jesus Christ... fucking asshole...
Monica shook her head at the memory of their interaction. That guy... he was all slickness. All bravado. Overconfident. Probably spent an hour in front of a mirror every morning to make sure every hair was in place. Every outfit he picked, probably designer and needlessly expensive. Cocky, and smug. What a fucking douchebag.
She hated that he'd so quickly gotten under her skin. She'd dealt with plenty of men like him... she didn't know why he in particular incited such a strong reaction. Maybe he pulled that shit at the wrong time... she'd been on edge for a while, and the mayor's assassination only further tested her patience for bullshit. She did her best to check herself... she knew plenty of fellow officers who lost themselves in rage and anger... she didn't intend to lose herself in such a manner. That being said, she understood herself. She was aware she could be somewhat intimidating. She knew she was good at playing the 'bad cop' role, but she'd never crossed the line into actually being a bad cop. She saw the line, and she would never cross it. Still... even thinking about David made her blood boil.
It was just... punks like him had it easy! He didn't have to live by a code. He didn't have to fight for anything. He got to sit back, let his family give him a life of luxury, and not have to worry a hair on his pretty little head. It was easy for him to look good when he didn't have to lift a finger. It was easy for him to think he was god's gift to women when he never had anyone in his life tell him no.
Well... Monica would do that. She'd tell him no. She'd put her foot down... and next time, she wouldn't miss.
But she wouldn't stop there. No... she was going to take that motherfucker down. And when he felt the weight of justice closing in on him, she wanted him to know it was her that took him down. She wanted it to sting.
It was with this renewed purpose that she greeted her partner mere minutes after she'd left. Meeting eyes, they both saw the same dedication to taking that smug punk down in the other. Joel knew enough to see her feelings painted across her face, so he felt no need to inquire further. But she could sense a little consternation on his face, spurring her to ask about it.
"What happened?" Monica asked. "You didn't punch him, did you?"
"Came close," Joel said. Unsure as to how much detail to go into, he pragmatically decided to not get into specifics, both to hide that smug prick's naked intent to charm the pants off Monica, but also to keep his partner focused on the task at hand and not get too distracted by her rightful dislike of him. "Let's just say he had many more wonderful things to say about you." Monica rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"You know what... fuck this guy!" Monica stated. "Him and his perfect fucking suit... smug prick can't keep his mouth. Just sitting back, running his mouth... I know we're trying to take down his brother, but let's take that piece of shit down too! And his whole fucking family!" Monica affirmed, and the two partners shared a purposeful nod. They had a mission, a shared enemy, a smirking frat-boy douchebag who seemed primed to be taken down a peg even as their attention was focused on a larger prize.
Still seeing that his partner was a little pissed off after what had just happened with David, Joel tried to cool her fury.
"Let's get lunch."
*********
Taking Monica to one of her favorite places, a vegan restaurant, they shared a table as they discussed the case. Joel didn't share his partner's dietary outlook, being a lifelong carnivore even as Monica limited her meat consumption. But he was trying to be a good friend, more driven by the desire to cool off his partner's anger and make her happy rather than having a satisfying meal, hence taking her there. Once Monica was a bit more relaxed, with a little food in her belly, they established a plan.
"He's definitely our in," Monica stated. Joel winced inwardly at this, not liking the fact that her dislike of David only rededicated her efforts to take him down, securing that fucker's place in her orbit.
"He's not our suspect," Joel reminded her, trying to shift her focus away from him. But she was undeterred.
"He knows something," Monica replied firmly, looking off into the distance. Even she didn't know quite where this level of reaction to David was coming from. She'd dealt with hundreds of annoying pricks like him... but none had struck this same chord of revulsion. Joel exhaled, realizing that his partner would not be deterred. This made Joel slightly nervous, knowing what that punk's final goal for her was, but he reminded himself that Monica was about as immune as anyone to the charms of a guy like that. "That prick wants to talk. You could tell he doesn't like being told what to do. That he resents being the little brother of the family. That fucker wants to sing. He would sell out his brother in a second if it helped him."
"How do we make him do that?" Joel asked.
"We dig," Monica replied. "Find everything we can. His criminal record. His college records. His report cards," she added, making her partner grin. "The point is, if he's gotten in any sort of trouble... if he got a fucking parking ticket five years ago, I want to know."
"A guy like him has to have some dirt on him," Joel agreed. They were both aware of some trouble he'd gotten up to in college, but they hadn't dug quite that deep into David's history, more focused on the many other aspects of this case. But if they were focusing their efforts on David, they'd have to dive into his past. "That piece of shit thinks he's living a charmed life... gotten away with everything, no doubt."
"There's gotta to be something we can use against him," Monica followed up.
that could barely be contained.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asked, her voice betraying her shock momentarily, but the anger in her tone was clear. She was rarely caught off guard like this. Seeing this ever so slight moment of vulnerability in the icy detective made the young man grin.
Knowing who he was, she now looked at him with clearer eyes. He was dressed for the gym, but it seemed like he was one of those people who paid way too much money for clothes solely designed to get soaked in sweat. At a glance, he looked good, but it really was obnoxious now that she thought about it. He wore a short-sleeved top that seemed to be one of those ones designed for athletes, the clothing tight across his upper half while leaving his admittedly muscular arms exposed. On his lower half, he wore a pair of sleek basketball shorts. And on his feet were a pair of flashy, expensive looking athletic shoes that were probably more style over substance. She'd mistakenly approved of his look moments before, but now she could really see the total douche vibes he was giving off. As she stewed in an escalating anger, he finally responded calmly to her previous question.
"Oh! I've been looking for a new gym for some time. This one seems to have everything I'm looking for," he replied in a casual fashion even as he couldn't help but look at the detective wolfishly. Monica was not amused.
"Are you following me?" she asked, really considering the ramifications of his presence for the first time. She took another step away from him.
"Of course!" he replied, not even bothering to hide it. "I mean, not me personally..." he added. A flicker of sheer shock lit up behind her already blazing eyes, causing him to give her a look that was almost condescending. "Do you really think my family would just sit back and allow two detectives to look into their business without returning the favor? You're smarter than that, Detective," he stated, giving her a knowing grin, the younger man acting far more aware of the nature of the world than the seasoned police officer. Seeing a flicker of concern pass across her face upon hearing that she was being followed, he quelled her fears. "Don't worry, you're not in any danger. I guaranteed that personally. No one's laying a finger on you, except..." he paused, letting that sentence hang, laughing to herself, letting his fingers wiggle in the air hopefully. She rolled her eyes at his unending arrogance.
"This is highly inappropriate!" Monica asserted sternly, finding no humor in this moment. "I could arrest you for this."
"For what?" he asked skeptically, still unaffected by her anger. "Misdemeanor exercise?"
"Intimidation of a police officer," she spat back pointedly.
"Do you feel intimidated?" he asked calmly but firmly, looking down at her, taking a swaggering step towards the busty detective. She didn't back down as he stepped up to the officer, looking up at the tall younger man as he had her in his sights. Detective Palmer had been up close with suspects plenty of times over the years, and while this encounter seemed to be far less dangerous than some of those others, she felt her blood pumping in the exact same way it would in a high-risk situation.
"Not at all," she replied fearlessly, still face-to-face with the younger man, keeping control over herself, refraining from kneeing the smug punk in the balls as they stood in close proximity. He paused for a second, seemingly annoyed, before his face burst out a brilliant grin.
"It's going to be funny," he began, laughing, keeping the peace by taking a step back. "We're gonna laugh looking back at this moment, knowing how wrong you are about me. I really am quite good at this."
"At what?" she replied, unable to hide her skeptical tone.
"Charming the pants off women..." he replied simply, smirking confidently, staring her down.
The beautiful detective gave probably the biggest eyeroll of her life at this cocky statement, spinning on her heel and turning away, finally locating her own towel and grabbing it. She was not about to engage this line of questioning, shaking her head angrily as she walked away.
"That's why we really should have dinner together," he began, undaunted, jogging after her until he got around her, standing in her path. "It's a win-win. You get to ask me whatever questions you want, and I will, of course, be an open book. And I'll get one night of your... charming... company." She looked up at him, still unamused, her lips pursed as she stood with her hands on her hips. Her absolute fury had been slightly dampened as she felt less threatened and more annoyed with this whole situation. Despite giving the younger man a look that had made criminals stumble in fear, he was undaunted. "Just one night, me and you. I can get us reservations at any restaurant in the city. You just give me a few hours to work my magic, and by the end, we'll be on the same page, I'm sure." As he finished this, he raised his eyebrows pointedly, but the younger man's intentions were no mystery to the experienced 35-year-old.
"I'll pass," she replied, giving him a venomous grin before turning away, looking to create some space between her and the young mafia punk. She didn't want this asshole to ruin her routine, as she was always a tangle of nerves if she didn't get a proper workout in. But he remained unaffected by her obvious displeasure, following her, and not letting up.
"Well, how about we at least work out together?" he offered. As he asked, he flexed his fit arms ever-so-slightly to highlight his impressive musculature. But she remained unimpressed, scowling at David, her eyes staring daggers as she looked up at him. David couldn't help but grin to himself.
There was something special about someone so unbelievably hot having such a passionate dislike of you, especially when you know the only way it would end between the two is in the bedroom. Monica was so lost in her initial kneejerk dislike of David that she couldn't let herself see where this was all going. David was extremely confident in what he was capable of, and seeing that scowl on her face made it all the sweeter knowing that she and him would be having rough, nasty, sweaty sex very, VERY soon. The fact that she hated him so much right now would only make it so much better when she was moaning her head off in rapturous pleasure and calling him 'Daddy.'
David couldn't help but admire the sight of her looking up at him, lips pursed, clearly furious at his continued presence.
She was just so fucking hot!
Even dressed down for the gym, wearing a loose maroon top, old leggings, and tennis shoes, with her hair pulled back and wearing little makeup, she remained a stone-cold babe. Those clothes could not hide her insane body, and her massive full tits were doing a good job of making themselves known despite her best efforts, their immense size pressing outwards against her loose top, never escaping his view. Even in their first meeting, while dressed well, she did her best to play down her best assets. And it was this thought that spurred him to speak up.
knows so much about women," she answered in a withering tone, making Joel roll his eyes. On one hand, he was slightly relieved that David was willing to speak so openly to Monica and expose what an obnoxious asshole he really was. Of course, he didn't wish this sort of treatment on Monica. But at the very least, it told him that maybe he shouldn't have to be that concerned about David's threats of seduction, as she remained unimpressed. "And he said something about how he works with women in front of cameras, and the way he said it made it sound like he's STILL doing that. That he never stopped doing it even after he got in trouble." Joel nodded.
"You think it's, like... his thing? A compulsion that he can't stop slaking?" Joel speculated. Again, his partner shrugged her shoulders.
"I'm sure he has MANY things..." she replied, rolling her eyes. "But my point is, do you think his staunchly Catholic family is going to appreciate the fact that their little prince is still fucking women on camera every chance he gets?" One thing both were well aware of in regard to the Delvecchios was that they were deeply entrenched in the church. By Joel's judgment, none of them were behaving exactly like good Catholics, but they certainly cared about appearing that way. "Do you think that the threat of outing this fact to his family... or perhaps leaking it to the public, and bringing shame upon the Delvecchio name... will be enough to get him to talk?" Joel finally caught on to the point she was making, and as soon as he understood, he felt the same twinge of excitement.
"It might," Joel replied. "But..."
"We need proof," she stated, finishing his sentence. He nodded in agreement.
"And if that fails, it still might lead to some dirt," Joel speculated. "When you get into that kinda stuff, there's bound to be something not quite on the up-and-up. We might unearth something we can pin on him." Monica smiled in excitement at this. Glancing at her files, she sought an answer.
"Do we know what site he used back in college to post his videos?" she asked.
"Uhhh... it was a private site. It's long gone now," Joel answered. She winced at this, then continued.
"Where do you think he's posting?" she asked. "Another private site, or... maybe those fan sites, where people post their porn content for money?"
"Well..." Joel thought. "He probably doesn't want it to get out, but... he strikes me as the kind of guy who wants to be seen in action."
"Me too..." Monica replied, nodding in agreement.
"Maybe..." Joel began. "Maybe he's sharp enough to not have his own identifiable place for posting shit, but maybe he provides the, uh... male presence... for the women on their sites." At this, a lightbulb went off in Monica's mind.
"He did speak quite highly of the girls at his clubs..." she began pointedly. Joel's eyes met his partner's, sharing the same thought. Glancing quickly at the files on his desk, he located one on Simone, the stripper/prostitute who was in the mayor's room that night. Monica stepped around the desk as they examined the file together, looking over his shoulder. Her close presence was enough to make him shiver, and the light scent of her perfume hit his nose.
She didn't normally wear perfume.
Both were searching the file, scanning for the same thing, until Joel found it first. Her stage name... Persephone. Most women weren't about to use their legal name for this kind of thing, and her stage name was a good place to start.
"Perfect," Monica began, stepping back. "You look up those sites... start with that name. Hopefully, we find something."
"What makes you think I'd know about those sites?" Joel asked with a smirk, mock offended. Monica gave him a pointed glance. It was nonjudgmental, but she was well aware that men have knowledge about certain subjects that she would be slightly naïve to.
"Just do it," she replied in good humor. Heading back around to her desk, she spoke up. "Do you have his social media handles?"
Joel winced at this. He'd personally taken on the job of looking at his social media very deliberately, with a good reason. He was well aware what a type of shit a douchebag like David would be posting to social media, and his research only confirmed that. Preening pictures of him posing for the camera, showing off his wealth, his body, the women he spends his time with. In the direct aftermath of David's threat to seduce Monica, it didn't seem like the wisest choice to send her down a path where she had to look at a gallery of shirtless pictures of the young punk. Knowing that she was indeed immune to his charms softened that fear, so he gave his partner the info she asked for.
"Maybe he slipped up," she responded. "Gave some clue to this thing on one of his posts."
"Yeah... maybe," Joel replied, knowing that what she was about to look at wouldn't exactly be the type of evidence she was looking for.
David's main social media presence seemed to be his Instagram page, but Monica's hopes of finding a treasure trove of evidence were quickly erased as she sighed in frustration at its actual contents. His unending archive of posts seemed to be one of two things: thirst trap pictures of him posing for the camera, or pictures of him surrounded by beautiful and scantily-dressed women. Seeing his partner's immediate annoyance at the contents of his Insta page, Joel couldn't help but comment.
"Thrilling stuff, huh?"
Monica gave him a knowing look, as if she was mad she hadn't been warned about this. He shrugged his shoulders, as if telling her that it was her problem now.
So, Monica was forced to spend the next few hours scanning through the most obnoxious douchebag's Instagram page, searching for anything that would prove useful to the investigation. If she had the hope of forgetting the sight of him shirtless after seeing him at the gym earlier that morning, those hopes were dashed as she saw what had to be dozens of photos of him in a similar state. Some in front of a mirror with a towel around his waist. Some with his shirt unbuttoned, as if he just had to take a photo of his bare chest despite being fully dressed. Some photos were him on a beach, or a boat, or at parties. It was as if he sought out situations that provided the excuse to pop off his shirt. It reminded her of all the frat guys back in college, as they always seemed to love to rip off their shirts at a moment's notice to impress the girls.
Despite David's impressive physique, Monica remained unimpressed.
But not all women seemed to share this feeling, as it was clearly apparent that he had a way of charming them, as most of his pictures were him next to scantily clad women. Admittedly, most of them were quite stunning, each skinny and gorgeous with wonderful bodies. There were pictures of him at a club, with his arm around women in tight dresses that showcased a fault line of cleavage, both covered in sweat from a vigorous night of partying. Some pictures were him at one of his clubs, surrounded by 'his girls', the team of strippers at his employ. Some photos were women he was posing with as if they'd run into each other in town, each of these girls seemingly excited to be around him, for whatever reason. A fair number of pictures were him on a mini-yacht, no doubt the fruit of his family's fortune, a fact he was clearly taking advantage of. He clearly used it as a party boat, taking it a little off the coast and providing him a way to surround himself with a gaggle of gorgeous, bikini-clad women.
Unlike herself, who found being in David's presence enough to make her skin crawl, these women seemingly savored being in his presence, curling up against his shirtless body, pushing themselves all up on him, competing for his attention. That prick seemingly delighted being the focus of all these gorgeous women, welcoming their hands all over his half-naked body, inviting them to run their hands over his bare chest and fit arms. He seemed to prefer to wear tight swimwear when out on the boat, a pair of gunmetal gray shorts that molded to his fit frame. This seemed solely for the purpose to showcase his bulge around all these women, a bulge that was clearly artificially aided by a rolled-up sock or some other phallic like object to really make it appear huge and real, when it probably in reality wasn't all that impressive. It was just like what he'd done in the gym earlier. Like a lot of men, he seemed to be almost obsessed with his own manhood, putting a lot of focus on it in his photos, poising for the camera in such a way as to put it front and center. And somehow, none of these women seemed to catch on to what he was doing, how he was all bravado with nothing to back it up. Even the women in the comments seemed impressed by this little showcase of his, treating it like his size was not up for debate, not even questioning if it was real.
And it was clearly fake!
A guy like David would totally want to put out the word that he was well-endowed, and would adopt an overconfident personality to further this deception. He probably thought that any woman who found out he was hung would become fixated on his manhood. For Monica... it was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about, but photo after photo she clicked on put it front and center to such a degree that it forced her to have to think about it. And she had to confront the fact that not only did he clearly stuff his shorts to give himself the false appearance of length, but it almost looked like he did the same to make it appear as if he had a pair of massive balls as well. Monica couldn't imagine being so self-conscious about things, reminding herself that size really didn't matter THAT much in the grand scheme of things. But of course, David Delvecchio, that fucking preening, fratty asshole, was totally the type to think it did.
Moving on from this deception by David, not wanting to give him what he wanted by focusing so much on the contents of his shorts, Monica focused on the women he surrounded himself with. These poor fools... That being said, they didn't appear stupid. Yet so many of them found themselves charmed by that absolute douchebag. They swallowed their pride and dressed like pure skanks just to be in his orbit. The detective shook her head. Girls these days needed to have more pride in themselves, and not seek out the attention of smirking pricks like David fucking Delvecchio. It would have been an easier fact to swallow if these women were clearly trashy... but these were stunning young women with incredible bodies. And not all of them were bikini models, as some just gave off the vibes of being incredibly intelligent, having light in their eyes compared to the somewhat vacant gaze some of the other girls had. And beyond these wild yacht parties where he was surrounded with girls, there were other women photographed with David in his regular life that were notable figures. There was a young woman who was a former Olympian who posed for a picture with David. Another photo was with an actress Monica recognized from a network sitcom. Monica just couldn't connect why David seemed to have such success with all these stunning women.
Some small part of her couldn't help but take a certain grudging pride that David viewed her on the same level as all these women he surrounded himself with. Despite being ten years older than both David and the majority of women he seemed to avail himself in, he viewed the detective at the same level of appeal. He'd spent all morning hitting on her, desperate to get her out on a date, so he clearly desired her. He wanted her to be one of these women he treated as trophies on his social media.
For a fleeting moment, Monica couldn't help but envision herself in the place of the girls he was posing next to on his Instagram page. Did he want to take her out to the club, the cop wearing a skin-tight dress with her breasts bursting out? Did he want her partying on his yacht, boozing it up while wearing a skimpy bikini? Did he want her pressed all up against him like some of those other girls did? Did he want her to be posed next to him like an airhead bimbo in one of those pictures that coincidently highlighted his ridiculous bulge, mouth open, eyes vacant, pretending to be as impressed by such an obviously fake, oversized appendage as she would the real thing?
Monica suddenly realized her mind had gotten slightly carried away, her pulse racing as she lost herself in this fantasy of being that type of woman. Shaking her head clear of these silly visions, she gathered herself, putting her foot down and stamping out any wayward thoughts. Living out such scenarios were so fantastical and completely out of character for Monica that she could never let herself play out such fantasies for very long before her mind rejected such thoughts, snuffing them out. It would never happen for so many reasons... it wasn't worth wasting that much thought over.
Monica spent most of the next few hours combing his Insta page. The photos themselves became a blur after a little while, and she had to remind herself that the whole point of this was to track down the women in these photos. If he identified any of them by name or handle in the posts, she jotted it down, just in case any of them could be connected to one of those pay sites where people paid them for adult content. Perhaps one of them fucked David on camera, providing enough leverage to finally get David to talk and flip on his family. But if one of them provided a lead, it didn't come fast enough, as Joel's research finally turned up results.
It all came back to Simone, aka Persephone Delight.
Their assumption proved to be correct. She had a pay site where she posted NSFW footage, although with her being a stripper, it wasn't that big of a leap. There were A LOT of scenes posted. Some were her by herself. But most of them were with a man... the same man, over and over again, only differentiated by the theme of the scene. Simone would be outfitted in different ways, some classy, some rather skanky, and some with her adorned in what appeared to be in costume as famous characters... Cosplay, that was the term, Monica reminded herself. Simone dressed up in a lot these outfits, to a degree that it was clear either she was into it, or the man she was with was into it, or both. She shook her head as they scrolled past these clips, again recalling the thought that some of these women needed to stand up for themselves, and not just let themselves become sexed-up versions of famous characters. The detectives scrolled past these scenes, searching for anything definitive about the man involved. Joel couldn't dig in too much without paying. But eventually, a preview thumbnail proved to be enough, Monica stopping his scrolling to stare at one photo in particular.
"You think that's him?" he asked his partner. On his computer screen was a picture of Simone on all fours, and behind her, a man giving it to her. All her naughty bits were cropped out of frame, but that wasn't the point. They were more concerned about the man behind her. And, within seconds, she gave an answer.
"That's him," she said definitively. Her partner looked up at her, giving her a pointed look, and she sighed and replied. "I've seen enough of his shirtless body today to recognize him..." she answered. "Besides... he's got a small scar near his waist."
Joel winced that she'd noticed such a small detail, and once she pointed it out, he could see it, too. Despite her assertions, he became somewhat concerned that she was noticing far more about that douchebag than even she would admit. He certainly hadn't clocked the phallocentric nature of his photos like his partner had, and if he knew that she'd noticed such a thing, that pit inside his stomach at the thought of David winning over Monica would only get heavier.
Joel also chided himself. He was normally as perceptive as her partner, but perhaps he let his dislike of David blind him to the details. He'd seen the same pictures Monica had, but he wasn't exactly studying the details of David's body, looking past such displays, not exactly interested in such matters.
But Monica had been paying attention.
Chapter excerpt truncated at the edge.