Chapter 315: Caught in the Middle

Durnik knew the truth even while he hated it.

The only man who could handle both Lucas and Gracie cleanly, without noise or half-finished work, was Tharok. That was the part that burned the most. After all the money spent covering that bastard, buying silence, burying problems, and keeping police attention away from him, this was the repayment.

"Ungrateful dog," Durnik muttered, pacing hard across the ruined office. "I spent millions keeping your ass out of handcuffs, and this is what you do?"

He turned to the computer again, still hoping the screen would somehow explain itself. Files looked normal at first glance. Folders opened. Nothing flashed a bright warning sign. But that only made it worse. He could not tell what Gracie had taken, how deep she had gone, or which private corners of his system were now compromised. The not knowing sat in his chest like bad food.

He put the computer down.

There was no time to sit there guessing.

He grabbed his jacket, forced his arms through the sleeves, and dressed as properly as a furious man could manage with shaking hands and a broken door hanging open behind him. He still had shareholders to face. Important ones. Men who did not care about his bruised pride, only about stability, money, and whether the company still looked controlled.

He snatched his car key off the desk and stepped out through the wrecked doorway.

The corridor already felt different. Word had moved faster than repair tools. Near the front, a group of security staff stood together talking in low voices, blocking part of the path like the building had suddenly become a break room.

Durnik detonated on sight.

"Who the hell told you this is free hour?" he barked. "What the fuck are you all standing around for?"

The men stiffened at once.

"And who," he continued, voice rising, "is going to fix that door? If I come back and don’t have a new key waiting, every last one of you is as good as dead."

Nobody answered. Smart.

He stormed past them toward the parking area, still muttering, still burning, still trying to hold panic down under anger where it belonged. Gracie was out there somewhere. Tharok had refused him. The files were exposed in ways he could not yet measure. The whole day was slipping.

He reached the car, yanked the door handle, and missed his step on the curb.

His foot skidded.

For one ugly second the chairman of the company windmilled in open air, then hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of his pride.

"Son of a~!"

He cursed the ground, the curb, the shoes, the building, and the entire afternoon while slamming one shoe against the car door for good measure. Only after that did he drag himself up, throw himself into the driver’s seat, and roar out of the lot.

Behind him, the security team held it together just long enough.

The second his car disappeared from view, they broke.

Laughter burst out of them all at once, sharp and helpless, the kind of laugh men only released after a storm had fully passed and could no longer turn around to fire them on the spot.

Durnik drove like the whole city had personally offended him.

Every slow car, every red light, every pedestrian that crossed a second too late pulled fresh curses out of his mouth. His hands were tight on the wheel. His mind was still stuck on Gracie, Tharok, the broken office door, and the files he could not fully account for. Anger sat in his chest with nowhere clean to go.

Meanwhile, across the city, the house was quiet.

Rebecca was home alone in the master bedroom.

She started with her fingers.

Back against the pillows, robe already open, she slid one hand between her thighs and found herself wet before she had even settled into it. Two fingertips rubbed slow circles over her clit, then slipped lower, parting her pussy lips and pushing inside. She was warm, soft, and already slick enough that her fingers made a quiet wet sound when she worked them in and out.

Her knees fell open wider.

A soft breath left her mouth as she curled her fingers and pressed upward, chasing the first real spark of pleasure. Her other hand stayed on her stomach at first, then drifted up under the robe and closed over one full breast. She squeezed, thumb dragging across her nipple until it tightened.

It felt good.

But after a few minutes, her hips started lifting impatiently into her hand, and the pressure from her fingers was no longer enough.

She pulled them out, shiny with her own wetness, and got off the bed.

At the wardrobe, she dug past folded scarves and reached the back of the drawer where she kept the dildo hidden. Thick. Heavy. Veined enough to look real in her hand. She carried it back to the bed, heart already beating faster.

The robe stayed on her shoulders, hanging open. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and dragged them down her legs, then unclasped her bra and tossed it aside. Naked underneath the loose fabric, she climbed back onto the mattress, sat against the headboard, and spread her legs wide.

She did not rush the first contact.

She dragged the thick head of the dildo up and down her pussy, coating it in the wetness already dripping from her. Every slow pass over her clit made her hips twitch. She rubbed it there again, firmer, then lower, pressing the tip against her entrance until her body gave under it.

Then she pushed in.

"Ahh~fuck..."

The thick shaft stretched her open inch by inch. Her mouth fell open as she fed it deeper, feeling the full pressure fill her. She kept going until it was buried deep, her pussy clenched tight around it, and a low broken moan spilled out of her throat.

Her free hand grabbed her breast hard, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, pinching her nipple while she started to move the toy.

Out.

In.

Deeper.

The wet sound of it fucking her filled the quiet room. She worked the dildo steadily at first, then harder, angling it until the head dragged over the spot that made her thighs jump. Her breast bounced under her squeezing hand. Her other wrist kept thrusting, faster now, the toy glistening every time it pulled out before she shoved it back in.

"Yes... yes... just like that..."

Her legs spread wider. Her back arched. She fucked herself without shame, hips rolling up to meet every thrust, pussy making wet, sticky sounds around the thick shaft. The pressure built fast. Her moans got louder, shorter, needier. Her fingers dug into her breast while the dildo slammed deeper.

She could feel it coming.

Her toes curled against the sheets. Her stomach tightened. The toy kept driving into her, relentless, stretching her, filling her, hitting that same spot over and over until her whole body locked.

Rebecca cried out as she came.

Her pussy clamped down hard around the dildo and she squirted, the sudden release spilling out of her in strong pulses, wetting the toy, her thighs, and the sheets beneath her. Her legs shook violently. A raw, helpless moan tore from her mouth while she kept the dildo buried deep through every wave of it.

She was still squirting, still trembling, still lost in it~

when the bedroom door opened.