Page 16 of Broken

I smirked, "I am going to personally handle this one. I caught her in action...she saw me weak and I can't let that pass."

"Wait...you caught her in the act?" he asked looking shocked.

"Yes, but there was an incident and I don't want to discuss it, cousin." I watched him eye me again, but he held up his hands defensively and backed off.

"I got it, I'll see what intel I can get you," he stated.

"Quickly," I said. "I want it done discreetly because if she figures out that I know, she'll be in the wind, and I'll lose my lead to the stone."

“You’re the boss," Valentin said and then as if sensing that I wanted to be alone, he left.

When I knew that he was truly gone and his footsteps had dissipated, I stood and went to the door. Carefully, I clicked it into place and locked it and then strode back over to my desk. My Little Thief was frozen in place.

I began to imagine what she would look like handcuffed to my bed, wearing nothing but a sheer pair of black panties. Panties that I would gently ease to the side before sliding my finger into her wet and waiting hole.

She would cry out in pain.

But I wouldn't stop.

That would only be the tip of the iceberg for what I planned for her. She was going to be mine, and she had no idea what was about to happen to her world. Valentin would find the information for me. He always came through.

Roughly, I unzipped my pants and gripped my cock in my hands.. My calloused hand began to stroke my shaft. Harder and harder, I gripped myself as I looked at the frozen image of the mysterious woman who had dared steal from me.

I would steal something from her, I decided. Whatever she had to take, I wanted it.

And still...it wouldn't be enough.

With that, I came with such a force that my load shot out on the screen of the computer. My release had been much needed, although this had been the second time today that I had come to this exact image of the thief.

Using a tissue, I cleaned up the mess and let out a sigh. Soon enough, I would have the real thing down on her knees begging for it.

Nova

At around 11:10 am, I was on Astrid's doorstep knocking. She had been consistent with living in the same place for more than three years. Some days, I wished I was living a little more like her. The work she did with CPNs (Credit Privacy Numbers) allowed her a steadier income than what I made. She had offered to teach me, but I preferred the thrill of a heist more than putting together random digits to make up a social security number.

An autumn breeze went by and gave me a shiver, causing me to burrow into the hoodie I wore just a little bit more. The mental checklist that my mind conceived was starting to grow by the minute because I knew I couldn't survive another winter without a decent coat.

I rapped again lightly on Astrid's red painted apartment door and waited. It swung open with some force to reveal a guy easily six foot and some change, with muscles cording out of his neck and tattoos covering all of his visible flesh. He wore black and white plaid night pants and a bright white wife-beater. Was this the mysterious boyfriend, I wondered? He was a light-skinned guy with funny hazel colored eyes. I decided right then and there that I didn't like his eyes. They seemed predatory.

"Astrid home?"

"Yeah, and who are you?" he asked looking me up and down.

"Old friend, I have an appointment with her this morning...she's getting me set up with a place," I said.

He didn't say much else, only stepped aside so I could enter. Astrid' place was a nice two bedroom, perfect for her and her daughter. Slipping my shoes off before I went too far, I saw that she was already at the kitchen island.

"Hey, sis." she smiled and then came to greet me with a hug. "Long time no see."

I held onto her for dear life. "I know."

She stepped back, still smiling. "Coffee?"

Her boyfriend went back in the bedroom and closed the door. I could have sworn she'd said that he wouldn't be here. "Sounds good. Its chilly out."

"I got you." She began to hum to herself.

Astrid's movement were quick and prepared. She scooped in the right amounts of coffee and made sure it was enough water for two. I watched her work in silence, taking in her features. She was light-skinned and small in stature. Her hair that she kept permanently died blond was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she wore no lipstick. The sleep set she wore was Chanel. It never ceased to amaze me how we both lived a life of crime, but she actually made a good living from it.