The Devil’s Shepherdess

The door to the dimly irradiated five- star hotel suite swung agape. Micah, barefooted, walked backwardly in the dark room. Serge advanced after her, step by step - Kissing and caressing each other. They both burnt with passion. Serge helped Micah take off her dress and lowered her gently, like a perfect gentleman, to the beautifully decked bed. With quick fingers he took off his shirt and belt and charged forward for more kisses on top of Micah.

Winnie, sitting on the chair by the window, lit up a cigarette and took a puff. A revolver and handcuffs were on the side table stationed by her chair. Serge and Micah startled by her presence and immediately plummeted into fear, disengaged from their romantic clutch.

Winnie established coldly, “Your wife is barely a month old in her grave and there you are snogging another woman.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” Serge queried gnashing his teeth.

“Who I am not is important." Winnie gave quick feedback. “But if you must know, I'm the Shepher
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