Story comes to bump

Elegance and opulence greeted attendees at the Presidential Residence from they arrived at the front gate. Men dressed in black tuxedos with tails opened their car doors. The stiletto heels clicked, while the ball gowns swept the marble tiled driveway. Masks were issued, huge Georgian columns rose from the earth to support the roof of the portico. Colin Small's residence was a reminder of the colonial past. The views of the capital below and setting sun over the harbour completed the picturesque backdrop for pictures to commemorate the event.

Colin and Lesley stood on opposite sides of the huge mahogany entry door with their teeth glistening in the evening fading light.

Quan Wu and Carla strolled leisurely and smiled beneath their masks.

"Carla!" Colin called. "I don't recall you being on the list of invitees."

Lesley glared at him from the other door jamb.

"Larks Colin, she is family and you need a united front for the voters. Besides we are celebrating life, family and friends This evening, let bygones be bygones."

Quan raised Lesley's hand, smiled behind his mask his eyes were glued to how well the off the shoulder green dress clung to Lesley's body. Quan inhaled the faint scent of her perfume, that reminded him of lilacs. He could not help but wonder if Mrs. Small was as amorous in bed as her contrasting her effervescent personality.

He hoped that Colin did not recognize him and was really distracted by the interfamily issues with Carla.

Quan's head turned as he looked around and at the fresco that was painted on the high ceiling of the foyer.

"Wow."

For a second Quan thought he was transported to the Vatican and not a tiny Caribbean country.

I give it to you Small; you do have fine taste. However, Quan wasn't only thinking about the ambiance of the residence, but his mind was set on another conquest. Colin Small had insulted me when I last met and tonight, I am dining at his dinner table, I've bedded his little sister and tonight I am going to add insult to Injury when a peel the dress from his wife. His prized possession will be mine and then he will have no choice but to give in to my requests to do business. Quan thought.

"Why are you so preoccupied and distant?" Carla asked as she sipped the glass of champagne.

"Nothing, I was just admiring the environment and thinking how lucky I am. St. Barts struck oil offshore and I struck gold with you Carla," Quan replied.

Carla giggled in response.

"The future of this country is very bright Quan. If only I was able to dislodge my brother from the helm of government," Carla replied.

Quan frowned. "That bad, huh?"

"Some things are not known to the public Quan. People see Colin as this righteous, straight talking, intelligent,, handsome man trying to lead St. Barts to become a first world country as a place to live and prosper. However, I know the other side of him. I wish he was dead."

Carla seethed.

"Tell me more?" Quan asked.

Carla chuckled. "Do you think that because I slept with you once or twice that I would openly tell you of the hurt that my brother inflicted on me? No Quan. However, if you're lucky and after a few more glasses of champaign I may take you to his bedroom and allow me to defile his bed," Carla replied.

"Remind me not to get on your wrong side Carla," Quan whispered as his eyes surveyed the dining room and the other guests that had arrived.

"I thought this was supposed to be a small intimate setting Carla?" Quan asked.

"Hah, hah!" Carla laughed.

"Lesley does nothing small, Quan. It's always a campaign for her. She never misses an opportunity to solicit campaign funds for the party of her father. Colin is just the figurehead."

Quan smiled below his mask. "Tell me more Carla."

Carla turned towards Quan and her hand found his crotch and stroked it. Quan winced at first, but soon his manhood responded.

"It's because of this why I feel must tell you everything," Carla whispered.

"Carla! we are in public," Quan semi protested.

"Don't you want to know the tea on my brother?" Carla asked as she pulled Quan towards the small room beside the dining room. She was leading him by the front of his pants. Carla swiftly locked the door and took a swig of champagne in her mouth and sank to her knees.

Quan closed his eyes and leaned against the wall seconds after Carla freed him from bondage. The sparkly champagne in her mouth gave Quan an experience that made him escape reality as his manhood enjoyed the warmth of the shapely woman that was leading him to places beyond this mortal coil. Quan Wu would have promised her the world if she had asked. No other woman had made him feel that way.

Carla Small made him climb the wall like spiderman backwards while she gargled the expensive grape juice as she harvested Quan's juice. Within minutes, Carla emerged from the room wiping the sides of her lips. Meanwhile Quan was frozen. His pants crumbled at his feet. He could steel feel the bubbles around the pink head of his shaft.

"What the hell did I Just do?" Quan asked himself.

When he finally pulled himself together and joined the other guests, the seven-course meal was being served. Quan recognized a few of the other invitees including Letisha, the wife of the journalist. The evening went without a hitch, the invitees consumed copious amounts of oysters, lobster, pork, veal and caviar. Champagne and other libations flowed freely. 

Colin Small seemed pensive, but pleasant as he did what all politicians seemed to have been gifted with. He was a performer and an entertainer, but it was Lesley Small that Quan found himself watching. She was the diplomat flitting from shoulder or from ear to ear like a butterfly on a warm summer's day.

As the night drew on the evening culminated in a dance. Carla danced with Quan for a few sets, but eventually she disappeared into the crowd. Quan stood in the shadows watching and making note of the body languages and he swore he spotted the main players; Rex Morgan, Flynn, Lesley, but he did not see the President. That made him curious. He frowned. Rex was dancing with Lesley and once in a while Quan swore, he saw Rex's hand stray, slipped through the split in the green dress and cupped Lesley's naked cheek. The disc jockey was playing calypso and Soca that seemed to be driving the crowd into a frenzy. A wry smile came across Quan's face since they were dancing in a manner that made Quan wonder if there was more to it than enjoyment of the music.

Quan chuckled. The Presidential residence was his kind of place. sex, power and money mixes freely, but where is Colin Small? Quan's spider senses began to tingle.

I need to see behind the screen of virtue, integrity that Small displays. There must be something that makes the man human, like me. I hope that somewhere in the residence Small was holed up in a small room with a woman or a man in a compromising position and I will be the person to discover them and use it to my advantage. No man can be this pure at the top of the pyramid of power. Every man has a weakness, Trump has his pride, Putin has his lust for land. What does Colin Small call his Achilles heel? Quan thought as he left the dance floor to search for the President.

Quan found the wooden staircase and took his time walking up trying his best not to make treads squeak. All the dark doors were closed, an eerie feeling followed Quan, but he could not put his fingers on it. He was still clutching the empty flute glass in his right hand. With each step his grip on the thin glass got tighter.

Relax, you are trained, you have killed people with far less. Why do I feel so nervous.

Quan came to the top of the landing and saw a glow of light emanating from a door at the end of the hallway. The board floor creaked and Quan stopped in his tracks. His ears strained to listen to see if he had been discovered. Cold bumps grew on his arms and he swore he heard the glass crack in his grip.. his breathing became slightly laboured.

A few seconds later he breathed a sigh of relief.

He could faintly hear voices coming from behind the door. As he got closer the voices became agitated. He swore he heard Colin shouting and Carla screaming for help.

Quan dropped the glass and kicked in the door. His eyes tried to acclimatize to the light in the room. Quan felt something hit him hard on the back of the head and then everything went pitch black.

Moments later as his eye lids fluttered open, groggy he thought he saw a body on the bed, His hand naturally curled around an object on the floor. Quan stumbled over to the bed, blinking hard to try to comprehend what was happening.

Colin Small was on the bed clutching his stomach with blood oozing through his fingers with a look of shock on his face. Quan looked down at his hand and he panicked. He was clutching a black snub nosed revolver.

The door burst open with a crack and a thud.

Quan was startled.

"He shot the President!" Carla shouted pointing at Quan.

"Fuck," Quan muttered just before he was tackled to the ground, with fists hitting him all over his face and upper body.

The gun wrenched from his grasp before the lights faded once more.