As the evening settled over Thundarr City, Faro walked into Rita’s penthouse, unaware of the surprise waiting for him. The scent of something sweet filled the air, and as he stepped into the dining area, he saw a beautifully decorated cake sitting on the table.
Rita stood beside it, wearing a warm smile, her pearl-white dress hugging her figure. “Happy Birthday, sweety,” she purred, holding out a knife for him to cut the cake.
Faro stared at it, stunned. “You… baked this?”
Rita nodded. “Just like your mother used to. I thought you’d appreciate the nostalgia.”
Faro’s expression softened. He hadn’t expected such a heartfelt gesture. Before he could say anything, Rita clapped her hands. “Oh, and there’s more.”
Just then, a young blonde woman stepped into the room, looking a little shy but excited. “Faro, meet Mindy Moor, my new secretary. She just started working for me, and I thought you two should get to know each other.”
Mindy smiled. “Happy Birthday, Mr. Faros. It’s nice to meet you.”
Faro blinked at the unexpected introduction. “Uh… thanks. Just call me Faro.”
Rita grinned mischievously and gestured toward the large windows leading to the penthouse garage. “And for your real gift…”
Faro turned, and there it was—a brand new dark blue sports car, gleaming under the city lights.
“Aunt Rita…” Faro murmured, running a hand through his hair.
She leaned against the table, watching him. “Go on, take Mindy out for a spin. It’s your birthday, after all.”
Mindy giggled. “I wouldn’t mind a ride.”
Faro exhaled and shook his head with a smirk. “You really planned this all out, didn’t you?”
Rita winked. “Of course. Now go enjoy yourself, sweety.”
As the evening deepened, the penthouse was set for an elegant dinner. The dining table was adorned with fine silverware, candlelight casting a warm glow over the room. Rita, always one step ahead, had sent invitations to Cal and Ronda—knowing it would rattle Ronda to see Faro arriving with someone new.
Faro parked his new dark blue sports car in the penthouse garage and stepped out, offering a hand to Mindy, who blushed as she took it. She had enjoyed the evening drive, the city lights reflecting in her bright eyes.
As they entered, Faro immediately noticed Cal and Ronda sitting in the living area, sipping on sparkling water. His jaw clenched slightly, but before he could protest, Rita appeared in an elegant crimson dress, her green eyes glinting with amusement.
“Ah, you’re back, sweety! And right on time.” She glanced at Mindy, then at Ronda, smirking. “Did you two have a lovely evening?”
Mindy smiled. “Yes, Faro took me to this amazing restaurant, and the drive was incredible. I’ve never been in a car that fast before!”
Ronda’s expression twitched slightly, though she quickly masked it. “Oh? So Faro’s got himself a little playdate.”
Cal leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t take you long to move on, cousin.”
Faro shot a glance at Rita, realizing her true intention—this wasn’t just about his birthday; it was about making a statement. He smirked, deciding to play along. “Well, some people know when to stop looking back.”
Ronda scoffed but said nothing, gripping her glass tighter.
Rita chuckled as she took her seat. “Come now, let’s enjoy the night. It’s Faro’s special day, after all.”
As the butler, Albort, began serving dinner, the tension in the room lingered—Rita’s little game was unfolding exactly as she had planned.
As dinner wrapped up, Rita stood up gracefully, holding her glass of sparkling water high. “Now, what’s a birthday without a little fun?” She clapped her hands, and Albort, ever the dutiful butler, dimmed the dining room lights and switched on the colorful disco lights embedded in the ceiling.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Rita announced with a playful smirk, “welcome to the penthouse dance party!”
Albort, now in his role as DJ, stood behind a sleek control panel, queuing up lively music that filled the room with an electric energy. The furniture had been moved aside, leaving enough space for dancing.
Mindy giggled, grabbing Faro’s hand. “Come on, birthday boy, let’s dance!”
Faro, still slightly surprised by how the night was unfolding, allowed himself to be pulled onto the dance floor. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but Mindy swayed easily, making it hard not to follow her lead.
Cal and Ronda remained seated for a moment, Ronda stirring her drink with an unimpressed expression. Rita, noticing this, walked over and extended a hand to Cal. “Come, son, don’t let your mother outshine you.”
Cal sighed but smirked, taking Rita’s hand and leading her onto the floor.
Ronda, now visibly annoyed, stood up on her own. She wasn’t going to be the only one left out. She stepped into the crowd, swaying her hips as she moved toward Cal, hoping to remind him of her presence.
The room became a mix of flashing lights, laughter, and rhythmic movements. Rita twirled around, enjoying the music, while Faro slowly began to relax, feeling lighter than he had in days.
Albort, in his DJ booth, called out, “And now, a special song for the birthday boy!”
A slower, more intimate tune began playing. Mindy turned to Faro, eyes gleaming. “Looks like it’s time for a slow dance.”
Faro hesitated but nodded, placing his hands around her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Across the room, Ronda watched with narrowed eyes, sipping her drink in silence.
Rita, watching it all unfold, smirked to herself. This night was proving to be quite entertaining.
Just as the atmosphere was settling into a comfortable rhythm, the music was suddenly drowned out by the sound of slow claps.
“Well, well, isn’t this a lovely family gathering?”
Everyone turned toward the entrance of the living room—Flint Faros stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe with his signature smirk. He wore a dark suit, his presence immediately sucking the warmth out of the celebration.
Faro clenched his fists. “What the hell are you doing here, Flint?”
Rita crossed her arms, clearly irritated. “I didn’t invite you.”
Flint chuckled, stepping further inside as if he owned the place. “Oh, come now, dear aunt. You didn’t need to. I have a knack for showing up where I’m needed.” He glanced around, eyes scanning everyone before settling on Ronda. “Ah, and look who it is—Thundarr City’s most ambitious gold digger.”
Ronda scowled. “Screw you, Flint.”
Flint laughed. “Charming as always.” Then, his gaze shifted to Faro. “Happy birthday, little brother. I see you’ve moved on quickly.” He nodded toward Mindy, who looked uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
Faro exhaled sharply. “Get to the point, Flint. You never show up without a reason.”
Flint smirked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small black envelope. “You’re right. I have something for you. Consider it… a birthday gift.” He tossed the envelope onto the coffee table.
Rita narrowed her eyes. “What’s inside?”
Flint’s smirk widened. “Oh, just something that might make this little party a whole lot more interesting.”
The room fell silent as all eyes landed on the ominous envelope.
Faro hesitated for a moment before reaching for the envelope. The room remained tense as he tore it open, pulling out a small stack of glossy photographs. His eyes widened in shock as he flipped through them.
The color drained from Rita’s face when she saw Faro’s reaction. “What is it, sweety?” she asked cautiously.
Faro’s hands trembled as he shared the photos with Rita only to see.
The pictures showed Faro sniffing Rita’s dirty laundry—her panties, specifically—back when he was still staying at Ronda’s old SouthBank apartment. The surveillance footage, courtesy of Mr. Clown’s hidden cameras, had captured everything in disturbingly clear detail.
Flint leaned in, enjoying the chaos. “Like I said, little brother… a birthday gift. Hope you like it.” Now don’t create a scene as I introduce some new people to your birthday party or else these lands in your new girlfriends’ hands. Flint walks out of the living room door only to stroll back in with a smug grin, flanked by two dazzling strip club girls dressed in flashy, revealing outfits. The room goes silent for a moment as everyone processes the audacity of his entrance.
“Well, well, don’t stop the music on my account,” Flint smirks, draping an arm around each of the girls. “Figured I’d bring a little extra entertainment to this classy affair.”
Rita folds her arms, clearly unimpressed. “You invited yourself, Flint. And what exactly makes you think this is that kind of party?”
Flint chuckles, grabbing a drink from the table. “Oh, come on Auntie Rita. It’s a celebration, isn’t it? Thought I’d liven things up. Besides you wouldn’t want Faro to show his gift from me to everyone here now, would you?”
Cal rolls his eyes, already annoyed. “You are the only person who walks out of a room just to make a second entrance.”
Meanwhile, Ronda is watching the strip club girls like a hawk, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable with their presence. Faro, on the other hand, just shakes his head and downs his drink, trying not to let Flint ruin his night.
Rita sighs, realizing she has to let him stay. “Fine, you and your whores can stay,” she finally says, “but behave yourself, Flint.”
Flint raises his glass. “Wouldn’t dream of misbehaving, dear sweet Auntie.” But the smirk on his face says otherwise.
The party continues, but the tension in the room has definitely changed.
As the music pulses through the penthouse, the two strip club girls turn up the heat, locking lips in a sultry French kiss right in front of everyone. The partygoers react with a mix of amusement and awkwardness—except for Flint, who watches with a satisfied smirk.
Then, without hesitation, the girls break apart and saunter over to Cal and Ronda. One of them playfully runs a finger down Cal’s chest while the other takes his hand. “Come dance with us, birthday boy’s cousin,” one of them purrs.
Cal hesitates for a moment, glancing at Ronda, but the girls don’t wait. They pull him onto the dance floor, moving their bodies seductively to the rhythm. The flashing disco lights make the moment even more surreal.
Ronda, arms crossed, watches with an unreadable expression. She forces a smirk but taps her fingers against her arm impatiently. Flint chuckles at the scene, nudging Faro. “Your cousin’s got all the luck tonight.”
Faro, still nursing his drink, just exhales. He wasn’t in the mood for Flint’s antics, nor was he thrilled about Ronda’s clear discomfort. Meanwhile, Rita watches from the side, sipping her wine, amused by how the night is unfolding.
As the music intensifies, the two girls take things even further. With teasing smiles, they slowly strip off their dresses, revealing their bare bodies under the flashing disco lights. The room erupts into whistles and laughter from Flint as they press themselves against Cal, rubbing their bodies against him in a sensual dance.
Cal, clearly enjoying the attention, grins as the girls drape their arms around his shoulders, moving their hips in sync with the beat. His hands rest on their waists, and he doesn’t seem to have any complaints.
But across the room, Ronda’s face turns red—not from embarrassment, but from sheer rage. Her fingers tighten around her glass, and her nails dig into her palm. She had expected Cal to at least show some restraint, but here he was, basking in the attention of two naked women right in front of her.
Flint, watching with great amusement, leans over to Faro and mutters, “Guess money attracts all kinds of fun, huh?” He chuckles, clearly enjoying Ronda’s fury.
Meanwhile, Rita, still sipping her wine, watches Ronda with a smirk. She had invited them for this very reason—to show Ronda that Cal was no different from any other rich man when it came to temptation.
Ronda slams her drink onto the table, the glass nearly shattering. “Cal!” she snaps. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Cal, dazed in the moment, blinks as he looks at Ronda, his expression shifting from pleasure to mild annoyance. “Relax, babe,” he says lazily, “It’s just a party.”
As the music blares and the party rages on, Ronda, seething with jealousy and anger, suddenly grabs one of the naked strippers by the arm. With surprising strength, she yanks the girl away from Cal, causing the dancer to stumble in shock.
“You think this is funny?!” Ronda screams, her voice cutting through the music.
Before anyone can react, Ronda drags the struggling, naked girl across the room toward the terrace. The stripper shrieks, kicking her legs, but Ronda’s grip is ironclad.
“Ronda, what the hell?!” Cal shouts, but he’s too late.
With one final swing, Ronda hurls the girl over the edge of the balcony—seventeen stories above Thundarr City.
A piercing scream echoes through the night air.
Everyone freezes. The music stops. The room falls into absolute silence.
Faro and Rita rush to the terrace, looking down. The girl is plummeted straight toward the city streets below—crashing headfirst onto the pavement, her brain splattered right out of her open skull and lay five feet away from her now bloodied and mangled dead body.
Flint, amused as always, lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Ronda. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
Cal, on the other hand, is furious. “What the actual hell, Ronda?! You killed her!”
Ronda, breathing heavily, glares at him. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before letting naked whores rub their pussy all over you.”
Rita, standing with her wine glass in hand, raises an eyebrow. “Well,” she says, smirking, “I did say tonight would be entertaining.”
The room remains eerily silent as the lifeless body of the stripper lies sprawled on the pavement below, blood pooling beneath her. The partygoers stare in shock, the reality of what just happened sinking in.
Then—sirens.
Red and blue lights flash through the terrace windows as the unmistakable roar of D.E.C. patrol vehicles fill the air. The Defense Enforcement Centre has arrived, and they aren’t taking this lightly.
A booming voice echoes from a megaphone outside the building in front of the dead stripper. “This is the D.E.C.! No one leaves the premises of this building! Remain where you are! We are coming in right after questioning a few street witnesses.”
Rita sighs and downs the rest of her wine. “Well, that didn’t take long.”
Cal turns to Ronda, his face twisted in rage. “You just killed someone! Do you even realize what you’ve done?!”
Ronda, still panting from the adrenaline, stares at the floor, her hands trembling. “She—she deserved it, that stupid whore!” she mumbles.
Faro clenches his fists, realizing how bad this could get. With the D.E.C. already outside, there was no escaping this. If Mr. Clown still had his people inside the force, things could take a turn for the worse very quickly.
The front door bangs open as armed D.E.C. officers’ storm in, weapons raised.
“Hands where we can see them! Everyone down on the floor—now!”
Albort, ever the composed butler, calmly raises his hands. “Well, this is rather unpleasant.”
Cal just stands there, watching, his jaw clenched.
The room remains tense as the officers continue securing the scene. Flint leans against the wall, smirking. “Well, well. What a party, huh?”
The D.E.C. captain, a hardened man named Gerrik Voss, steps forward, his cybernetic eye scanning the scene while his real eye narrows at Rita. His officers have their weapons lowered, but tension still lingers in the air.
Rita, draped in her elegant crimson gown, takes a graceful step forward, her confidence unwavering. She smiles as if greeting an old friend. “Captain Voss,” she purrs, “what an unfortunate accident we have here.”
Voss glances at the lifeless body below and then back at Rita. “Witnesses at the street say the girl was thrown.”
Rita raises a manicured finger. “Witnesses? You mean this group of my esteemed guests who all saw the poor woman, drunk on Saki, stumble over the railing like a fool?” She tilts her head, her voice smooth and unwavering. “An unfortunate accident. No one here would say otherwise. Right?”
The room remains silent, save for the hum of the city below. Flint chuckles in the background, amused by the performance. Cal, still fuming from the chaos, runs a hand through his hair but says nothing. Faro simply watches.
Voss looks at Rita, his face unreadable, but the flicker in his eyes betrays understanding. He knows what’s happening. He also knows how deep Rita’s pockets run.
Rita leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “And speaking of understanding… I believe your bank account should reflect some much-needed appreciation by morning.” She smiles, giving him a knowing look.
Voss lets out a small sigh, then adjusts his jacket. “Unfortunate accident, just a drunk girl who lost her gripping at the terrace railing dancing naked and drinking saki.” he mutters, turning to his officers. “Secure the area, make sure the reports match the truth.” His gaze returns to Rita. “But next time, keep your parties and your naked girls under control.”
Rita places a hand on his arm, her red lips curling into a smirk. “Captain, you wound me. You know how unpredictable these lower-class girls can be when they see real wealth for the first time.”
Voss shakes his head but doesn’t argue. He signals his men, and within minutes, they clean up the scene, treating the death as an unfortunate accident. The body is taken away, and just like that, the incident is erased from record.
As the last D.E.C. officer exits, Rita turns back to the room, brushing her hands together as if dusting them off. “Now, where were we?”
Cal stares at her in disbelief. “You just… paid off the D.E.C. again mother!”
Rita smiles sweetly. “Darling, money makes the world go round. Would you rather want your newest girlfriend to end up in prison or hanged? Now, shall we continue our party or do you need a moment to compose yourself?”
Flint bursts out laughing and clapping. “Oh, I love this family.”
Faro, however, remains silent, watching Rita with new eyes. There was more to his Aunty Rita than he ever realized.
Suddenly out of the blue, Ronda was interrupted by the sharp sting of Rita’s slap—once, then twice. The room falls silent, the music still playing faintly in the background as all eyes lock onto the scene. Ronda stares at Rita in shock, her cheek burning, tears streaming down her face.
Rita towers over her, a cold fury burning in her emerald eyes. “You listen to me, girl,” she hisses, her voice low and venomous. “You are very lucky that you’re now my son’s latest girlfriend. You’re part of the Faro Family Empire now, whether you understand what that means or not.” She steps even closer, her gaze drilling into Ronda’s soul. “And that is the only reason you were spared from being labeled a murderer of a lower-class girl tonight.”
Ronda swallows hard, her body trembling, but Rita isn’t done.
“You think your jealous tantrums go unnoticed?” Rita continues, her voice like a blade. “That was an act of weakness, and weakness is what our enemies prey on.” She gestures toward the balcony where the stripper fell. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The moment word gets out—even a whisper of what happened—every single enemy of the Faro Empire will use this against us. Against you.”
Ronda lowers her head, ashamed, but Rita grabs her chin and forces her to look up.
“If you ever lose control like that again,” Rita warns, her voice chilling, “I won’t be here to protect you. And believe me, neither will Cal.”
Cal shifts uncomfortably but says nothing. He knows his mother is right.
Rita releases Ronda’s chin and sighs, stepping back. “Now, wipe your tears and fix yourself. We still have a party going on.”
Then, turning to Albort, she snaps her fingers. “Get her a fresh drink. Something strong. She needs to learn how to control herself like a proper Faro woman.”
Albort nods and hurries off.
Ronda sits there, silent, gripping her glass with shaking hands. She knows that from this night forward, things will never be the same.
Next Rita goes to Flint and holds him by his t-shirt and starts to warm him “not a word of this goes outside this room you hear me boy? or else! you end up like one of your lower-class whores. You know what I am capable of doing, right?”
Flint smirks, unfazed by Rita’s threat, and leans in slightly. “Oh, I know exactly what you’re capable of, Auntie,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “But you should know by now, I always have my own game to play.”
Rita tightens her grip on his shirt, pulling him closer, her emerald eyes burning with fury. “Listen here, boy,” she hisses. “You’re walking a fine line. Don’t test me.”
Flint chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Rita. My lips are sealed… for now. But secrets have a funny way of slipping out when the right price is offered.”
Rita shoves him back and glares, while Faro watches from the side, fists clenched. The air in the penthouse is thick with tension as the music still plays in the background, the party now a twisted spectacle of power plays and hidden threats.
Then Rita makes her way to the brunette naked whore who was still sobbing and crying in the corner of the living room – mourning at the demise of her best friend right in front of her eyes. “And you!” Rita shouted, “Stop crying and put some clothes on, this is my penthouse and I am the only one who runs around naked in here.”
Albort in the background exclaimed “Hear! hear!” and then looked at Rita’s angry face and replied “Sorry ma’am, I will take care of her…. come girl walk with me…” Albort pointed to his quarters in the penthouse
The sobbing brunette, still shaken from the violent death of her friend, sniffles and looks up at Rita with teary eyes before quickly nodding. She scrambles to grab her scattered clothes, her hands trembling as she slips into them.
As the brunette stripper shakily follows Albort, Rita strides over to her and places a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. The girl flinches, her eyes darting nervously.
“Listen to me, sweetheart,” Rita says, her voice deceptively gentle. “You’re going to forget everything that happened tonight. In return, I’ll make sure you get a decent job in my office warehouse—something stable, something that doesn’t involve stripping for crumbs.”
The girl looks up at Rita with a mix of fear and hope. “R-Really?” she stammers.
Rita tilts her head, her emerald-green eyes narrowing. “Yes. But—” she leans in closer, her voice dropping to an icy whisper, “if you ever breathe a single word about what happened here tonight, you’ll find yourself in the exact same spot your friend ended up. Do I make myself clear?”
The girl swallows hard, nodding quickly. “Y-Yes, ma’am. I swear, I won’t say anything!”
Rita pats her cheek lightly before stepping back. “Good girl. Now go with Albort. He’ll sort you out.“
Albort, who had been waiting patiently, nods to the girl and motions for her to follow. As they disappear into the hallway, Rita turns back to the shaken crowd, exhaling as she adjusts the straps of her evening gown.
“Now, where were we?” she says with a smirk, reclaiming her glass of wine and taking a slow, satisfied sip.
Faro couldn’t shake the image of Aunty Rita’s dominance—the way she controlled the entire situation with effortless authority. The danger in her eyes, the power in her voice—it sent a strange thrill through him.
Mindy sat awkwardly on the plush sofa, her hands nervously clasped on her lap. She had never witnessed anything like what had just unfolded. The casual way Rita handled murder, threats, and bribery left her both intimidated and oddly intrigued.
Cal took Ronda to his mansion moments ago as she got sick and was vomiting at the thought of committing a grave crime – Ronda was suddenly filled with guilt and confusion as soon as her anger subsided, and she calmed down.
Rita, swirling the last sip of her wine in the glass, glanced at the young blonde Mindy sitting across her and staring at her with a smirk. “You look a little lost, darling. Is this all a bit too much for you?”
Mindy quickly shook her head. “N-No, Ms. Faros. I just… I didn’t expect all this at a birthday party.“
Rita chuckled, standing up and stretching, her silk gown clinging to her curves. “Oh, sweetheart, welcome to high society. Things are never as they seem, and power? Well, it comes with certain… responsibilities.” She walked over, placing a perfectly manicured hand under Mindy’s chin, lifting her gaze. “Tell me, Mindy, do you want to be part of this world?”
Mindy hesitated, her breath hitching as she met Rita’s piercing green eyes. “I… I don’t know.“
Rita leaned in slightly, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You’ll learn soon enough.“
Rita straightened and took another sip of her wine, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Tonight had been… entertaining.
