The rat smells the cheese...

An hour later on the dot, a small fleet of black sedans pulled up to the gates of the Palacio, escorted by armed men in combat gear; Romero's private soldiers.

The cars glided smoothly across the courtyard, and an old, hunched man stepped out of the lead car. He looked up, taking in the sight of the Palace looming before him, dreaming about his imminent victory.

He had been planning this moment for decades, carefully maneuvering himself into a position of power and influence. As the General Secretary, he had been able to orchestrate the coup with precision, pulling strings and playing the government factions against each other. And now, after years of scheming and plotting, he was about to claim the ultimate prize: the Palacio, and the girl that came with it.

A slow smile spread across his face, and he began to hobble towards the entrance, his two personal bodyguards flanking him on either side. They were heavily armed, but they would not be needed. He was confident that he would not be opposed by the feeble young woman. She was just a tool, a pretty face for him to parade around in front of the cameras, while in reality he will hold all the powers.

And soon, his mouth beginning to salivate, she would be his to control, to own and toy with as he saw fit.

Isabella waited in the meeting place, pacing back and forth. She could feel her heartbeat pounding, her palms sweaty. She had gone over the plan with the others countless times, but she could not help the nagging doubt that something would go wrong.

The door opened, and Romero entered, followed by his guards. He was older than she remembered, a little less frightening than before. Perhaps all she had gone through in the past few days had matured her, made her stronger.

Even so, she had to pretend to be the scared little girl he expected to be, and so she cowered as he approached.

"Secretary Romero! Thank you for coming, I was so afraid." she said, adding a tremor to her voice.

"Of course I did. You look lovely, little princess," he sneered, his eyes raking over her. "All dressed up for me."

Isabella nodded, lowering her gaze. "I thought... I thought you might like it. It was the nicest thing I had, and you always did say how pretty I was."

He stepped closer, reaching out to cup her chin and tilt her head up. She could smell his breath, sour and unpleasant, and felt his calloused fingers digging into her skin.

"Yes, you are a pretty little thing, aren't you? I can see why your father kept you around. Tell me, how much cock have you taken in that sweet, little pussy of yours in the past two days, hmm?"

She flushed, shame and embarrassment heating her cheeks. She hated his crudeness, his casual disdain for her. But she had to play the part, had to stay in character.

"I've lost count, Secretary Romero. I had tried to keep my chastity, but everyone wanted a taste, and I couldnt fight them off. They took turns, passing me around like a piece of meat. And then..."

"Then what, little princess?" His voice was mocking, his eyes alight with cruel amusement.

"I can't take it anymore, Secretary. I can't live like this, always being used. Please, please take me away from here. Take me as your own, and I will be yours, and only yours."