Her shoulders sagged. “Sylvester Damiani, Sly. He is good man. He saved me.”“I see. To be honest, we know Mr Damiani, but not as a good man. Whe...e did you get the gun?”Irina sat straight and her Russian accent receded as she concentrated.“Last year, I was abducted by goons, by the Kaçanis.” The detective looked up with interest. “They beat me up, broke my cheekbone, my knee, my arm, because I would not work for them. After they were killed, I sued estate for my medical bills and injuries. Their. Her plaid flannel shirt hit the floor seconds later. Underneath it she was wearing a sweat stained wife beater undershirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her small breasts, capped with large dark areola, were clearly visible through it. “On your knees,” Claire commanded as she began to rummage through one of the small dressers. I rolled over, kneeling on all fours as sticking my ass in the air as I watched her over my shoulder. Claire found the harness and dildo she was looking for, and strapped. More

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