Bitch Better Have My Money: Danny D's Payday

Brazzers

Danny D, Iris Rose Pic(s)

The sun bled a hazy orange over the city’s skyline, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch like grasping fingers as Danny D surveyed his domain from the penthouse suite. He was a man carved from pure ambition, his signature scowl a silent promise of the relentless pressure he could apply, a force as tangible as the humid evening air. His latest venture, a high-stakes collection for a notoriously delinquent client, had just hit an unexpected and infuriating snag named Iris Rose. She was a vision of deceptive innocence, with wide, knowing eyes and a smile that suggested she held all the cards in a game no one else knew they were playing. The digital trail of the missing fortune, a sum so vast it could bend nations, had inexplicably vanished into the labyrinthine accounts she controlled with an artist’s touch. Danny’s patience, a finite resource he guarded fiercely, had evaporated the moment he discovered her elegant betrayal, a masterstroke of financial sleight-of-hand. Now, the game was no longer about mere money; it was a brutal test of wills between two titans operating in the city’s underworld, a clash of contrasting methodologies. He would personally ensure she understood the grave cost of her defiance, that playing with his capital was akin to playing with live wires in a thunderstorm. The phrase “bitch better have my money” wasn’t a threat from him; it was simply the immutable law of gravity in his world, a fundamental truth she had foolishly ignored. This payday would be collected, not with polite requests, but with the kind of ruthless finality that cemented his formidable reputation. The hunt for Iris Rose, and every single penny she had stolen, was now his sole, all-consuming purpose under the gathering dusk.