Chapter 46

Pembroke had many reasons to be grateful for employing Konrad Fischer. The applications he developed were not only incredibly efficient and useful for controlling product security and behavior, but they also required only a small, efficient team of employees despite the growing and bountiful number of products being procured.

Additionally, he was able to plan ahead for his holiday in Italy efficiently. He gleaned several promising leads from an AI-generated app that analyzed social media posts while Pembroke enjoyed himself.

And so Pembroke made his way to Sicily and Catania, playing the role of a global nomad. Mixing with the hipsters in Catania, he stayed near the harbor, working on his laptop in cafés. While others watched the well-dressed man, wondering what he could be doing, he was poring over his reports and negotiating hard deals, while others worked on their novels.

Meanwhile, Sophie was being put through her paces in preparation for the transfer, which Pembroke hoped to oversee in time. The girls were once again restricted in their communication due to Cassie’s growing closeness to Efua and his fear that she might divulge the full name of the captain of the hijacked boat.

Pembroke had rented a Fiat Ducato and drove around the hinterland outside of Catania. He visited the abode of Salvatore Greco, who had recently been released from prison for a brutal attack on his ex-wife that had nearly killed her. Since being released, Greco had found a job as a lowly operative in a chemical processing plant. He now lived alone on the edge of town in a shack resembling a trailer. Pembroke was pleased to see that it looked exactly as it did on Google Maps.

Francesca was embarrassed by her mother picking her up from school. Maria Greco, with her brown hair and brown eyes, was covered in tattoos on her throat, breasts, arms, and neck, looking a bit too old for such a daring look at 37. She worked in a local factory and was anxious to take Francesca straight from school, worried about her father, who had been released from prison after eight years for trying to kill her.

“Mama, come on, can you dress in something less revealing? At least cover up your tattoos!”

“Ha! Come on, Francesca, your friends think I’m cool.”

“Yeah, right,” Francesca replied. Her mother was hardly a perfect model as a parent. A local drama queen who posted non-stop about her mundane life in small-town Sicily, her tattoos and piercings made her look like a middle-aged woman seeking cheap thrills all her life.

At fifteen, Francesca was a little more conservative than her mother. With her brown hair tied in a ponytail and wearing a black plaid skirt, white blouse, and tie, she contrasted sharply with her mother’s short denim shorts and skimpy red top.

“Let’s go for an ice cream, Francesca. Just keep an eye out for your father, OK? That bastard will be around, I know!”

Francesca was not looking forward to visiting her father in a few days. He had tried to kill her mother, and despite his promises and professed love for his daughter, she was a little scared.

“Mom, is that a new tattoo?”

“Shut up, Francesca. What do you care?”

“My skirt is too short because you say we have no money. All the boys harass me over it there are upskirt photos of me all over the internet now!”

“Yeah, well, your father never paid any support for ten years. Try being a single mom. And why not get a boyfriend Francesca? When I was your age I was being driven everywhere, I never had to pay for anything.”

Francesca sighed and adjusted her skirt. She couldn’t wait to grow up and leave Sicily and her dysfunctional family.

Later that evening, Francesca was busy studying at home in her bedroom, hoping that her studies might be the ticket to get away from this place. Her small room, filled with books and school supplies, was a sanctuary from the chaos of her daily life.

Meanwhile, Maria was on a date with an engineering consultant from France, Philippe Papin. Philippe was new in town, interested in the local chemical industrial processing plant, and had met Maria online. Maria was intrigued by his jet-set lifestyle, handsome looks, and his desire to live in Sicily.

“Oh, she is so pretty!” Maria smiled at the photo of Philippe’s grinning daughter that he showed her. The faces of Edward Pembroke and Samira Al-Tayeb gazed out from the photo—a happy image of a father and daughter in matching white and green t-shirts, set against a background of files in his bedroom at the complex.

Pembroke had selected Samira to be his fictional daughter because she bore the most resemblance to him. Maria watched with interest as Philippe gazed lovingly at the photo. This man seemed like a loving father, so handsome and charismatic in person, and quite generous so far.

As they continued their conversation, Maria found herself increasingly drawn to Philippe. His stories of travel and his plans for the future captivated her, making her momentarily forget the worries that plagued her daily life. Philippe’s charm and apparent sincerity made her feel special, and she couldn’t help but hope that this relationship might bring some positive change into her and Francesca’s lives.

In reality, Pembroke was remembering what had happened after Mrs Parker had taken the photograph. He, Mrs Parker, and Samira had embarked on an hours-long threesome in which Samira had finally lost herself in sexual ecstasy. He had seen genuine lust in her eyes as she had ridden his cock and hunger in her eyes as she drove Mrs Parker to multiple orgasms with her tongue/

“Unfortunately, I don’t get to see my daughter much,” Papin said, sighing. “Her mother doesn’t let her. But...” he brightened, “soon she will be eighteen, and then she can make up her own mind!”

Maria pressed his hand. “I understand. I wish I had an ex-husband like you,” she laughed. “I have custody of my daughter, and I would love to have a father in the picture, but my ex...” She sighed deeply. “He is a terrible person. I wish we could be rid of him.”

Papin looked at her with sympathy. “That sounds tough. I’m sorry to hear that. It’s hard enough raising a child without having to deal with someone like that.”

Maria nodded, appreciating his understanding. “Thank you, Philippe. It’s been a struggle, but I do my best for Francesca. She’s my world, and I just want her to have a better life.”

“You’re doing a great job, Maria,” Papin said sincerely. “And who knows, maybe things will get better from here on out.”

Pembroke enjoyed the ravishing attentions of Maria Greco in bed that night. Running his hands over the intricacies of her tattoos, he felt as if he was appraising artwork rather than her intimate areas, and kissing a painting rather than her skin.

“I bet your tattoos tell a life of passion,” he smiled at her. “Haha! You bet! I don’t regret a single one; they were all what I wanted to do at the time!” Maria replied, gyrating on top of him, grinning, and flickering her pierced tongue.

Her movements were hypnotic, and Pembroke found himself captivated by the contrast between her wild exterior and the vulnerability she occasionally showed.

Later, they lay together, exhausted. “You sure your daughter is okay by herself?”

“She’s a big girl,” Maria said defensively. “She’s shy, not like I was at that age, but then I’m too hot-headed. My daughter, she’s clever, not like me. She’s going to be educated. Which is why...” She suddenly became sad and clung to Papin. “I am so frightened about Salvatore. I am afraid of him and what he might do to us.”

“Maria, I have only known you a short time, but ... there is something about you ... something free. You are so different from my ex-wife,” he laughed. “Every time I’ve been coming to the plant here, I’ve wanted to move to Sicily! My daughter, when she is free, could finally leave Marseille and get away from my ex! I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy, but I’d love to see if we have more than a few nights of passion together...”

Maria looked into his eyes, a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Do you really mean that, Philippe?”

He nodded, taking her hand. “I do. There’s something special here, Maria. Let’s see where it leads.”

Maria kissed him and closed her eyes. So many men over the years had betrayed her. Would this one be any different? She was a born dreamer and thought she might as well try with this guy. At least he was rich, had a respectable career, and, for one thing, this mild and gentle man would never harm her or her daughter.

“I hope you’re right, Philippe,” she whispered, her voice tinged with both hope and caution. “Maybe we both deserve a fresh start.”

“Come on, Francesca, why don’t you put on that red bikini I got you? I would kill for your body, that flat stomach...”

“Mama!!” Francesca cursed at her. “I’m not wearing that; it’s like dental floss!”

“Suit yourself,” Maria shrugged, slipping into a red and white thong bikini and throwing a sarong over her waist.

Francesca scowled as she watched her mother, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “You know, not everyone wants to show off like you do.”

Maria laughed lightly. “Oh, honey, it’s not about showing off. It’s about feeling good in your own skin. One day, you’ll understand that.”

“I understand just fine,” Francesca muttered, grabbing her towel and book. “I just don’t want to walk around like a whore in front of this date of yours.”

Maria rolled her eyes as her daughter appeared in a blue swimsuit adorned with white butterflies. The swimsuit had a conservative cut, barely reaching her hips, and at the back, it covered her buttocks modestly, displaying just a hint of a crease below the white frilly hem. The suit hugged her curves snugly and provided ample coverage for her cleavage.

“Boys are never going to go for that!” Maria teased.

“Mama! I am not looking for boys and anyway, isn’t it weird we are meeting this guy at the beach and you are showing me off like a piece of meat?”

“He could be your new stepfather, Francesca, so he should know we come as a package! I have seen his daughter, she’s a little older, and you could be friends if Philippe and I get serious...”

“Mama, you barely know this man...”

“Well, he seems nice and definitely a lot better than your dad! It’s good to have options now that he is out of the picture. Honestly, are you looking forward to seeing him again?”

“No, I guess not,” said Francesca sadly. She realized she had no good options in her life; both her parents were deadbeats and crazy in their own ways. How bad could this new man be?

Philippe Papin and Maria Greco flirted and canoodled like a lovestruck couple on the beach. Maria’s nearly see-through sarong flowed around her as she danced playfully around the ever-amusing and conversational Philippe.

Francesca had brought a book, hoping to use it as an excuse to ignore them, but she couldn’t help being drawn into their lively conversation. Philippe’s entertaining anecdotes and tales of his travels around the world as an engineer captivated her. Later, they splashed around in the water, throwing a ball back and forth. Maria, having lost her sarong, proudly showed off her tattooed body with loud and extravagant gestures. Francesca giggled, unable to resist enjoying her mother’s exuberant mood. She felt safe and warm with this charming Frenchman, especially in contrast to her upcoming and dreaded meeting with her father.

“Francesca needs a boyfriend!” Maria danced with her daughter in front of Papin who laughed.” Maria please, you are embarrassing poor Francesca haha” Francesca blushed, and laughed.

Papin secretly appraised Francesca’s body. She was slightly less bashful on Instagram and despite the modest nature of her swimsuit he could see her breasts were developing into the fine firm melons that her mother had, she was about five feet five, and her swimsuit clung to her derriere in the water and could not hide her perky firm bottom and youthful thighs and flat stomach.

“Francesca,” whispered Maria. “I want to bring him back to our place tonight.”

“What? Mama, I have to see Dad tomorrow. Is this really a good time?”

“Look, it will be a test for this guy, to see if he can stand up for us. If he’s with us in the car, it will show your dad he can’t just push us both around.”

Francesca winced in embarrassment, but a part of her felt grateful for the potential distraction from the awkward meeting with her father tomorrow. Or would it make things worse?

Francesca sighed, listening to her headphones in her room, trying to block out the noises from her mother’s bedroom. She chatted online, telling her friends she was home and her mother was watching TV, not daring to reveal the sordid truth.

Maria told herself that she was making sure to keep her new man entertained, to make him want more. Secretly, though, she desired this herself even more.

Papin smiled and climaxed repeatedly inside her, gazing at her beautiful inked body and marveling at her howls and moans. “Shhh,” he giggled, “we don’t want to wake up the neighbors or Francesca...”

“Haha,” she smiled at him lustfully, sweat glistening on her skin, her eyes wild with desire, her teeth gnashing like a feral animal. “Francesca is asleep, trust me. I don’t sleep, not when I have a gorgeous man like you in my bed...”

Papin raised himself up and kissed her passionately, his hands digging into her skin as she bucked in response, feeling his cock harden. “Fuck me, Philippe,” she snarled, “fuck me as hard as you can!”

Papin took her from behind, thrusting hard, resisting the insatiable urge to spank her cheeks as he plunged himself back and forth, his balls slapping against her. He could do this all night. If only his girls could see this, they might learn something!

A sudden thought crossed his mind: Maria, alongside Mrs. Parker and Mrs. Al-Haraz, instructing his girls. She would be perfect! But alas, he doubted she would take up the offer.

He realized it was getting late. He ran his hand over the Aztec symbols plastered across her back, dragging his finger along her spine, and raising it to his mouth to taste her sweat.

“On your back, Maria,” he demanded, his voice husky with desire. “I want to look into your eyes as I cum inside you!”

Maria smiled wickedly as she pulled away and lay on her back, raising her legs to obscenely display her sweaty holes to him, her eyes ablaze. “Finish me, Philippe!” she commanded.

Papin buried his face between her legs again, savoring her taste, trying to memorize it for comparison later. He raised himself up and pressed his lips to hers as his cock entered her again.

“Philippe, cum inside me!” she begged him, her nails digging into his back.

Papin kept his eyes on hers as he emptied himself into her womb. Maria gripped his buttocks, holding him inside her, secretly praying he would impregnate her, while she gasped and cried in orgasm.

“Oh, Philippe, that was amazing,” she whispered, her eyes melting with affection and satisfaction.

Post-coital clarity hit Papin, or rather Pembroke. He would love to spend another night wrapped in this woman’s warm embrace, but time was money, and unless he struck now, his chances of a good procurement would pass.

He gently caressed Maria’s throat with his hands, the sweat greasing them, as he fingered the snake tattoo climbing her neck.

“You know, Maria, you have an amazing body,” he cooed. “But not quite as good as Francesca’s. And my clients are quite particular about tattoos like yours. I think Francesca is more suited to the life I’m going to give her. For you, well, it’s goodbye...”

Maria, still blinded by lust and dreams of a future with this man, couldn’t make sense of his words at first. But as she began to understand, she felt his hands tighten around her throat. Before she could react, her windpipe closed off, and the face of the gentle Philippe Papin contorted into one of rage and evil glee.

She pawed weakly at his back and tried to kick him with her thighs, but it was no use. As the light started to fade from her eyes...

Pembroke took his hands off her throat, her mouth open, her tongue hanging out obscenely, and her eyes still wide open. He let his fingers slide over her still-sweating body, tracing the inkwork, admiring it while also lamenting the spoiling of an excellent body.

He had indulged himself, however, he cursed, it was late. He needed as much time as possible, but that damn woman had been just too good in bed. He went through his bag and took out his equipment.

Francesca was asleep in her Barney the Dinosaur pajamas, her favorite childhood sleepwear, almost like a protective cover shielding her from the adult sounds emanating from her mother’s room next door. She was still wearing her noise-canceling headphones, so she did not hear her door open slightly or even sense the man approaching her bed.

By now, Pembroke was very well practiced in the art of approaching sleeping girls in bed and subduing them. He was naked, his cock still erect with Maria’s juices over it, as he gazed at the sleeping girl. Francesca’s dimples softly showed as she smiled in her sleep, snoozing and snoring gently. Her brown hair fell softly over her face, framing her perfect fine eyebrows and long-lashed eyes. He savored the last vestiges of her peaceful happy existence before he brought his hand down over her mouth and his other around her neck.