Unable to do another pushup, I face-planted on the matted floor.
“Not bad,” Tara Gellar sing-songed in that attractive Australian accent. I thought I was going to enjoy working out while a supermodel-beautiful, Olympic-level fit, Aussie goddess coached me along. Right now, I hated it, and I hated her.
“This is humiliating,” I muttered, the words muted by the foam on the gym floor.
“Nah,” Tara said. “This is an assessment. I’ve seen worse.”
I rolled over on my back and looked around the gym—all the equipment was state-of-the-art and expensive, but it had Tara’s approval. I had a couple of ellipticals, treadmills, stair-step machines, and cardio rowing machines. There were machines for building muscle in different areas of the body. Free weights had been stacked and racked along one wall for easy access. Two of the walls had mirrors mounted on them, and the entire floor was padded with the highest quality gym foam Erin could find. I could efficiently work any muscle in my body without leaving the comfort of my home—my body transformation journey had begun.
The problem was, having never been a consistent member of a gym or a fan of working out in general, I wanted to throw up after thirty minutes of working with Tara… and apparently this was just the assessment. I shuddered to find out what the actual fucking workout was like.
Tara offered me a tablet. “Okay. Assessment’s done. This is the schedule I’ve built out for you.”
I rolled closer to where she sat and sat up, mirroring her position on the floor by crossing my legs as I took the tablet and looked it over.
“Do we have to do this every day at five in the morning, though?” Tara asked.
“No,” I said. “I hate mornings as much as you. I just wanted to get my blood pumping before the meeting today. Didn’t expect to feel nauseous though.”
Tara grimaced. “Wish you would have told me that’s what you were going for. It’ll pass once you get some food in you. I’ve already started working with Camille on a diet.”
“Lovely,” I said, anticipating being sentenced to egg whites, salads, and protein shakes for the next few months. “This workout doesn’t seem like much,” I said, holding up the tablet.
“You won’t be saying that by the end of the week,” Tara said with an amused smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll get harder.”
“Okay,” I said, eyeing the schedule skeptically, but she was the expert, so if she said this was a good start, I believed her.
“Has anyone else talked to you yet?” I asked.
“Just Chloe. She doesn’t need personal training, but she asked for a regular sparring partner.”
“Cool,” I said. “Erin wants to set something up with you, too.”
My personal trainer sat straighter when I said that, displaying a few subtle signs of interest. I couldn’t blame her. Erin in a sports bra and some yoga pants working out? I imagined that was one of those natural wonders that made you reconsider your belief in God—like the Grand Canyon. To be fair, Tara was a work of art all her own. Catching both of them in here at the same time might take years off my life just from the sheer amount of arousal they would inflict on me.
“Bobbi will probably reach out to you today, too. I want you to build a schedule for her.”
“Yeah,” Tara said, “About Bobbi…”
“The collar?”
“Yeah,” Tara said, her piercing blue-gray eyes full of questions. “Who is she?”
“That’s a long story,” I sighed as I set the tablet down.
“I’d like to hear it.”
Tara would be working with us all pretty intimately, so I decided she might as well know the entire situation. Erin had drawn up a boilerplate NDA for her that she’d already signed, so I felt relatively comfortable filling her in on a few of the details. I left out a few of the darker elements of how we met, but told her most of our situation—Bobbi had been stealing from the company I bought, had mistreated most of the people she worked with, and was an outright bitch. I threatened to turn her in, but instead of accepting that fate, she decided to enter a deal with me that resulted in a collar and a status as a live-in plaything story had a thin coating of sugar to make the whole thing a bit more palatable, but I hadn’t lied. If Bobbi told a different narrative, and Tara decided she didn’t like it, well… I’d burn that bridge when I came to it.
Surprisingly, Tara didn’t seem all that taken aback by the story. I guess she’d anticipated some sort of authoritarian arrangement—the collar was a bit of a giveaway. She didn’t express any kind of distress over it, though. In fact, quite the opposite; the way she drew her legs tighter against herself and leaned toward me as I told the story, I suspected the concept turned her on.
I was relieved that Tara didn’t seem to have any sort of hang-up with the relationship, but it reminded me that I was overdue to have a similar conversation with Emily and Natashya. Bobbi usually kept to herself, and this place was big, but there was no doubt that Emily and Natashya had seen her around the house. The fact that neither had asked about her yet had me wondering what they suspected was happening with her.
“Anyway,” I finally said once I finished the story and stood up, “I need to start getting ready. Big day ahead.”
“Sounds good,” Tara said, hopping to her feet with what looked like a fraction of the effort. “If you don’t win, do I still have a job?”
“What?” I asked.
“Your big business meeting or whatever… you aren’t losing everything if you don’t win, are you?”
“Uh… no. I should be fine.”
“Ah,” Tara said, “Well, good luck anyway. Try not to stress out too much. If it goes bad, then no worries. It’s not like you’re gonna be destitute or anything.”
She stuck out her hand, and I shook it as I contemplated her point. She was right—I would be fine even if Chandler didn’t keep his spot on the board. In fact, I would be more than fine… I’d be just as wealthy tomorrow as I was now. That thought eased a little of the tension out of my shoulders. “Thanks, Tara.”
Thirty minutes and a shower later, I was down in the dining room eating breakfast with Chloe and Erin. Breakfast was surprisingly good, despite having been warned by Tara that it would be healthy. I guess eating food that was good for you and delicious was a privilege that only the wealthy enjoyed.
As usual, Chloe barely said two words while Erin was her usual, chatty self, going over interesting points about the upcoming meeting today and asking me to fill her in on how things went with Charity.
I’d made a day trip to Vegas on Sunday to visit the influencer at her home, bringing breakfast with me. She had been released on Saturday but was still confined to her bed. The last time we’d seen each other, she’d been blowing me at a rooftop party when we were rudely interrupted by gunfire. She had been shot, and I had been kidnapped.
I told Erin about offering her a job as my PR manager, with the caveat that she would move to New York, return to school, and have an experienced advisor for at least a year until she felt comfortable enough to take on the responsibilities herself. I also mentioned that I generously gave the poor, bedridden girl oral.
Erin had several questions, and I simply told her that the moment Charity accepted the job offer, I would hand the entire thing over for her to set up. Around that time, Emily joined us at the dining room table.
“How was the rest of your weekend?” Emily asked us while she filled her plate.
“Not much of a weekend,” Erin said. “Your brother had me working.”
“Marcus!” Emily said accusingly.
“No. It’s okay,” Erin said, giving me a wink. “I’m a workaholic.”
That wasn’t the only thing she was. By the time I got home last night, it was late, and as I’d stumbled through the dark of my room, I’d found a tiny, naked assistant in my bed. The moment my fingers had come in contact with her silky hair, I’d picked up on her floral scent. The next thing I knew, my clothes were off, and she was inhaling my cock before riding me through three orgasms until I came deep in her womb. We never got a chance to discuss her progress with locating my grandfather’s flash drive.
“Speaking of,” I said around a mouthful of eggs, “How did it go?”
Erin glanced at Emily, then back at me, and I nodded, indicating that it was okay to talk about this in front of her. I was completely confident in my sister’s loyalty and trusted her implicitly.
“Well, we didn’t find anything definitive. The keys to those lockboxes I mentioned never turned up, and there’s no sign of a flash drive.”
“Dammit,” I muttered. “So, it was a waste of time?”
“Not really,” Erin said. “Vikram and I gained insight into your grandfather and his estate. I know a lot more than I did Saturday morning. I think we should check out his vacation home.”
“Which one?” I asked. “Doesn’t he have several?”
Erin nodded, “Yeah, but the one in the Catskills seems to be a favorite. Probably because it’s so close to New York.”
“He did go out there pretty frequently,” Chloe chimed in. “I remember him holding meetings and working remotely from that location for days at a time.”
I shrugged and said, “It can’t hurt. I’d like to see it too. How far is it?”
“Not far at all,” Erin said. “Especially by chopper.”
“It has a helipad?” I asked.
“Most of your grandfather’s properties do,” Chloe said. “He hated being driven around when flying was so much faster.”
“Yeah. I get that,” I said, noting that I was also getting accustomed to using a helicopter. When I first learned about my grandfather, I thought being driven around was a luxury, but it had nothing on being aerial travel.
“When do you want to go?” Erin said.
“Do I have anything important going on this week?”
“No, sir,” Erin said.
“Hm. I’m not sure. Let me get through this meeting, and we can discuss it this evening.”
“Good deal,” Erin said. “If you want, we could go closer to the end of the week and spend the weekend there. The house has a pool with a lovely mountain view, and I can think of several ways to spend our time.” The look she gave me as she sipped her coffee was borderline predatory, and I could feel my libido responding. I had to admit… another attempt at a vacation might not be unwarranted. The last one had been interrupted.
“Okay…” Emily said, “Sitting right here.”
“What? You want to come?” I asked.
“That’s not what I meant, but a weekend in the Catskills? Hell yeah!”
My phone vibrated once, and I picked it up to see a text from Danni—Hey, Marcus! Good luck today! Missing you!
As I read it, another text came through—an image of Danielle lying on her bed in a dark blue robe. The belt was untied, and the sides of the robe pooled around her, leaving her entire body on display. Her modest breasts lay flat against her chest, and her pink nipples stood out proudly against her pale skin. Her pubes had been trimmed into a thin landing strip, a small patch of coal-black hair that contrasted beautifully against the ivory backdrop.
Her makeup had already been applied—dark eyeshadow and eyeliner that ended in a cat’s eye style. Her lashes were long and dark.
Her hair was splayed like a dark halo, and an arm was tucked behind her head. She looked to her left, but her eyes were focused on the camera, and a closed-lipped, mysterious graced her face. It looked like an NSFW pin-up. Fuck, she was gorgeous.
“What?” Erin asked, noticing the way I was staring at my phone.
“Here you go.” I passed my phone to Erin.
“Holy shit!” She said, her mouth hanging open.
“What is it?” Chloe asked, and Erin passed the phone to her.
Sitting next to Erin and on the other side of the table opposite Chloe, Emily craned her neck to get a peek, and her eyes widened.
“Damn,” Chloe said, sliding my phone back to me. “That’s a fine-looking woman.”
For Chloe to say something that brazen among three other people would have been the equivalent of an entire group of construction workers cat-calling a woman who passed by. For her, that was one hell of a statement.
“You should bring her with us to the Catskills. The three of us could really tear it up. If we could get Helen to come, then we could recreate that first day in the apartment.” Erin said, biting her lip as she gazed at me. Her meaning couldn’t have been any clearer if she held up a sign proclaiming the desire to have an orgy at my vacation home.
“Ugh… hi! Right here,” Emily said, raising her hand.
“Oh, don’t be such a prude,” Erin said as she started packing away her laptop and planner.
“Do you have any siblings?” Emily asked.
“Nope.” She stood up. “I was an only child and liked it that way.”
“Then you wouldn’t get it.”
“I wouldn’t,” Erin agreed, “and I’m probably the better for it.”
“You can’t tell me that if you had a brother, you wouldn’t be grossed out by the idea of him having sex?”
“Grossed out? Definitely not,” Erin said. “That doesn’t mean I would jump in bed with him, though. Now, if he was a hot stepbrother with a beautiful cock and a massive bank account?” Erin threw back the last of her coffee and plopped the cup down hard enough to punctuate the following sentence. “You’d have to peel me off him.”
“Oh god!” Emily said and busied herself with eating her breakfast.
“Here’s what I think—you’re grossed out because society’s told you that’s how you’re supposed to feel. We’re all sexual beings. Your stepbrother is hot. You’re hot.”
The look of horror on Emily’s face was priceless, and even I could feel my face heating a little. Erin was right, but it didn’t change the fact that it was weird. Especially considering the Natashya situation.
“What?” Erin said. “I’m not saying you should sleep with him. I’m just saying that it’s not surprising that he’s getting a lot of tail. You live here now. You should get used to it. Your brother fucks.”
“Are you shaming me for being a little grossed out over my brother having sex?”
“No. I’m shaming you for not admitting you think it’s hot.” Erin turned to me and said, “I need to get ready. Meet you at the chopper?”
My amusement at the exchange between my sister and assistant outweighed my embarrassment, so I chuckled at Erin and said, “Sounds good.”
Erin glanced at Emily, who was taking another bite of her food, and reached for the hem of her black skirt and hiked it up, demonstrating that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. I was blessed with an eyeful of clean-shaven pussy. At the same time, she gave me a wide, toothy smile and ran the tip of her tongue over her incisors before snapping them at me playfully. Then she dropped her skirt, slipped her bag over her shoulder, and left, “See you later, Emily!”
I glanced at Chloe, who had seen the whole thing. She arched an eyebrow and said, “Somebody’s feeling playful.”
“Who? Erin?” Emily asked cluelessly. “I know… she came at me pretty hard for just saying ‘ugh.’
“I think she has a point,” I said, sipping my coffee. “It’s a little hypocritical to be freaked out about hearing too much about your brother’s sex life when you got it on with one of the people he’s banging. Especially when that brother walked in on it and got an eye-full.”
She paused mid-chew and looked up at me, her silver eyes filled with concern.
“Relax,” I said. “I’m just messing with you… and maybe suggesting that hearing about one another’s sex life on occasion isn’t that big of a deal… especially since we live in the same house now.”
“Okay… that’s fair,” she said, slightly abashed. I suspected she was still having mixed feelings about whatever was going on between her and Natashya.
“Can…” Emily hesitated before continuing, “Can I ask you about something?”
“Sure,” I said. “I have some time.”
“What are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”
“About?”
“Who you’re dating. Mom’s pretty traditional about this sort of thing. I don’t think she would take it well if she found out that you've basically built a harem.”
“A harem?” I didn’t like that implication.
She held up a finger. “Erin.” Then she paused and looked at Chloe.
“It’s fine,” I said, anticipating what she was thinking. “She’s allowed to hear everything. She has to be able to do her job.”
She looked back at me doubtfully but continued, holding up a second finger. “Helen.” She held up a third finger and continued listing the rest off. “Danni, Shea, Natashya, Ashlee—”
“Ashlee doesn’t count,” I said, but I got her point.
“That’s a messed up thing to say, but whatever. You’re dating a lot of women.” She pointed at Chloe and said, “Are you guys sleeping together?”
“Em!” I snapped.
Emily eyed Chloe for a moment and said, “Nah… you aren’t sleeping with my brother.”
“What makes you say that?” Chloe asked as she swirled the orange juice around her glass, seeming more idly curious than anything.
“Because you seem to have more sense than most.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “That Erin and Helen don’t have any sense?”
Emily shook her head a little wearily. “No. I’m sorry… it’s just…”
“What?” I asked.
“Mom was grilling me about you yesterday. I think she got the same impression I did with Erin—that you guys were something more. She thought it was weird when Jess showed up, and I agree.”
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to bring up Natashya again, but it wasn’t quite the same. If I understood her correctly, she was concerned about the number of girls I was fucking and that I was hiring them specifically so I could sleep with them. I had to admit... sleeping with my employees had been a hell of a perk. My chef was engaged, my personal trainer was a lesbian, and my CEO was an old British guy doing a phenomenal John Cleese impersonation.
“Can I be frank?” Chloe said, looking at me.
“Of course,” I said.
“Miss Upton,” Chloe said, giving Emily a dangerous look. “I’ve been guarding rich people for a while, and do you know how many of them make horrible decisions?”
“All of them?”
“Yep,” Chloe said. “All of them. I’ve seen people fuck up so bad that they’ve taken entire families down with them. Money changes people. Some for the better, but most of the time, it ends in a dumpster fire. Marcus hasn’t always made the best choices, but he could do much worse. Of all his good decisions, though, his best has been in who he hires. He’s surrounded himself with capable people who have not only proven talented, but also loyal. Some of them just so happen to also be enthusiastic about being intimate with him. These are all responsible, consenting adults who have managed to successfully mix business with pleasure. All while having more integrity than most.”
A mixture of emotions swirled in my head as I listened to Chloe defend my behavior to my sister. I was surprised that my bodyguard had said so many words in a row and that they were all incredibly kind toward me. I was also taken aback that she was so open-minded about my relationship with the other women. For some reason, I always felt like she disapproved of my sexual antics, so to hear her back me up made me feel a little better about having her as my bodyguard during those times.
The memory of her standing in the doorway watching Ashlee, Shea, and me fuck while she had her hand buried between her legs came to mind for the first time since I’d been rescued. I wondered if she felt like an outsider watching me enjoy the other ladies in my employ… like Scrooge standing out in the cold watching his employee—Bob Cratchit—enjoy a Christmas meal with this family. What would have happened if I’d indicated for her to join us? Would she have done it?
“You’re right,” Emily said, tearing me out of my reverie. I suddenly realized that I was staring at my bodyguard, taking in the sight of her suburban-mom good looks, her freckled nose and cheeks framed by dirty blonde hair, sunkissed arms, and shoulders sculpted into works of art by years of training and physically demanding jobs…
“I’m sorry,” Emily continued. “I didn’t mean to come off as judgmental. It’s not like I can really throw stones, considering Natashya. Mom just caught me off guard yesterday with all the questions, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t want to say anything you might not want me to.”
There was one thing that I didn’t think Chloe had gotten quite right, and I wasn't sure I’d find a better opening than this. I’d been intending to tell her about Bobbi, after all.
“It’s fine,” I said with a sigh. “You might not be entirely wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked.
I glanced at Chloe and then back at Emily. “Well, you’ve seen Bobbi around, right?”
“The one with the collar?” Emily asked.
“That’s a yes,” I said.
“She’s kept her distance, but Natashya and I both have. We’ve been super curious, too. She thinks it’s some kind of kink thing.”
“Kind of,” I said.
Like I’d done earlier with Tara, I took a deep breath and told her about Bobbi, leaving out some of the darker parts of our story, like the visit I’d made to her hotel room the night after my press conference. Halfway through the story, however, I was starting to wonder if I’d made some sort of mistake… by the time I finished, Emily’s face was a thunderhead.
“You’re saying she’s been kept here against her will?” Emily said. Her words came out slowly and cautiously, but I could tell she was trying hard to keep her cool.
“Think I’m gonna leave,” Chloe said, getting up from the table. Of course, my bodyguard was going to leave. She could charge into a building full of mercenaries and pull me out of their clutches without an issue, but when I needed her the most, she abandoned me in my darkest hour as I faced off against my sister. I wanted to shoot her a glare for demonstrating her cowardice, but Emily’s expression dared me to look away.
“Technically, no,” I said. “She could have left at any time.”
“By being put in the back of a police car…”
I opened my mouth to add something, but I couldn’t think of anything to help my case, so I said, “Yeah.”
Abruptly, Emily stood up, turned, and walked out of the dining room without so much as a glance back at me. I stood up from the table as she disappeared through the door. “Emily!”
I didn’t get an answer.
Everyone who learned about my relationship with Bobbi had been relatively cool with it—Helen had been an enthusiastic accomplice from day one. Erin jumped at the benefits of having access to my submissive. Chloe knew about her but had barely said more than two words about the situation. They were all pragmatists, though; each one of them skirted around moral issues when they thought it was for the best. Emily wasn’t. Deep down, she was an idealist—it’s why the relationship with Natashya bothered her, as did my ‘harem.’
It was more than Emily being principled, though. Things had happened to Emily that she wouldn’t talk about, and as I called out for her, it occurred to me that something about Bobbi’s situation might have triggered some unpleasant memories of those two years on the West Coast.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
This might be bad.
Monday, 8:55 am
I stared out of the window as we approached the helipad for VistaVision's global headquarters. It was a monolith on the New York skyline, vying for attention with the Empire State, Flatiron, and Chrysler buildings. It was a perfect metaphor for the business and its dominance in several global markets.
And I owned it all.
Well, forty percent of it.
As the helicopter swung around the large building, I got a good look at the double V’s hanging on the side of the building. They were stacked against each other in a cascading effect, with one colored a deep dark blue while the other was shaded maroon.
“This is your first time seeing the building?” Erin asked.
“First time in the building,” I clarified. The thought was sobering. I know I’d only owned it for a few weeks, but the fact that I was showing up to the building for the first time to throw my weight around regarding choosing a new CEO couldn't be ignored. What business did I have in trying to shape a company's future when I hadn’t so much as darkened its door? The thought made me feel small and insignificant next to this massive abstract entity.
This is too big, I thought to myself as we approached the helipad. Why not turn around, go home, and stay in bed with Erin and Bobbi all day? Erin would be happy to slip out of that cute little number she’s wearing and jump on your dick. Bobbi could join. Heck… I could probably even call Danni or Rose if I felt particularly frisky.
It sounded like a lot more fun than what I was walking into, and for a hot second, I seriously considered turning the helicopter around.
But I didn’t.
I don’t know why, but I felt responsible for what happened on days like today. There was so much I didn’t understand about business on this scale and the inner machinations of a company like VistaVision, but I needed to buy myself time to become more involved, and the best way to do that is to keep people at the helm that I trusted.
A single figure stood on the rooftop, and as we approached, I identified Helen. Her eyes were shaded as she looked up at the helicopter, which began its slow descent to the helipad. Her blond hair whipped around her face, but she ignored it in that cool, classy way she seemed to do almost everything.
Once we landed, we climbed out, and I made my way over to Helen. Since there was no one else on the rooftop besides me, Erin, and my security, she took a liberty she might not otherwise have indulged. She placed her hands on each side of my face and pulled me in for a kiss. Her tongue immediately invaded my mouth, pushing past my lips and seeking out mine as the kiss deepened past the point of carnal familiarity into burning intimacy.
With the rotors of the chopper still roaring as they slowed, I could feel Helen hum into my mouth more than hear it, and as we made out, a faint whiff of her familiar perfume enveloped my sense of smell. The beast in my pants stirred in that all-too-familiar way, and I pressed my crotch into her, seeking any sort of temporary relief for the sudden tingle running down my length.
A few moments later, she broke the kiss, her mouth hovering millimeters under mine as her cold blue eyes looked up at me with anything but ice in them. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I said, and I meant it. I’d had my issues with Helen in the past, but she was my first in a lot of ways, and that meant something. Besides, I liked Helen with her stunning good looks and calm demeanor; she seemed so unapproachable to most, so sharing moments like this with her was like being privy to a secret very few people knew.
I wondered how long it had been since Roger had been the target of that secret affection—or anyone, for that matter.
“Is he here?” I asked.
Helen nodded. “This is too big to not attend. Karl is here too.”
“Alright,” I said. “Lead the way.”
“Of course,” Helen said, but before doing any leading, she turned and grabbed my assistant’s face in a similar way she’d done to me and brought their lips together for another heated kiss.
I glanced at Chloe, but she was scanning the rooftop. However, John was watching the pair of women as they exchanged tongues and saliva. He caught me looking at him and quickly glanced away as if he were also scanning the rooftop. No matter the amount of training, I guess it was difficult for any red-blooded man to ignore two gorgeous women as they made out.
Helen broke the kiss, whispered something into Erin’s ear, and stepped away. My assistant was wearing a shit-eating grin as she swept her silvery hair out of her face and looked up at me. Her dark eyes shined with arousal. “We’re supposed to have our heads in the game,” she said. “She’s not doing us any real favors, is she?”
“Nope,” I said, looking back at Helen’s ass as she walked ahead of us. “Glad we have this walk to cool us down.”
“So, no teasing, then?” Erin asked.
“I’m putting a moratorium on all teasing until the meeting is officially over,” I said, giving my assistant a faux-serious look.
On the way, Helen filled us in on who had made it so far. The meeting was set for nine-thirty, but most of the members intending to be here had already arrived.
Nina Haley—formally Gerrard—was already in the boardroom, so I would get the chance to meet my aunt today. Meeting her had me almost as nervous as the actual board meeting. Others present included Chandler, Kelly Maddox—the contender for the throne; a Silicon Valley guy named Gus Hathaway; Rajesh Desai—the owner of Pakistan’s largest telecommunications company; Amber Bell—a representative from Brantwood Holdings; Hiro Tanaka, and Carla Tanaka.
The news that Carla Tanaka was here made my stomach turn; the last time I’d seen her, she was drunk and had been fooling around with one of my best friends. Before that, she’d tried to corner me in the restroom of a coffee shop and ended up giving me her number. Hiro was one of my few allies, and Carla was an agent of chaos that could easily complicate matters for me if she wanted to.
Wayne Prudem—my other ally—would be present via phone, as would Peter Michaelson, a lawyer representing my twin siblings in the vote. I was a little disappointed that I wouldn’t meet my brother and sister, but considering how nervous an aunt made me, it was probably best that I only have one family member to contend with today.
Helen gave me a brief rundown of the formalities, the meeting structure, and other bits of etiquette. I was so engrossed in trying to pick up any last-minute tidbits of wisdom from the seasoned lawyer that I hadn’t even realized we’d entered an elevator, gone down five floors, left the doors, and were approaching a large boardroom walled almost entirely in glass.
The large meeting table in the center of the room almost shone under the soft overhead lighting. Its dark walnut grain told of how it was as expensive as a brand-new car. Chandler stood on one end, talking to Karl and Roger. I saw a man with a strong nose and swarthy complexion sitting next to a woman who appeared to be in her early to mid-forties. She wore short hair layered with rich curls and streaked subtly with grays amid the raven black. She had black rectangle glasses and wore crimson lipstick that matched the dark red blouse underneath a charcoal jacket. Her fingernails were painted to match her lipstick. It was Kelly Maddox.
Another figure stood just on the other side of Kelly, pulling some documents out of her briefcase bag. She had hair the color of wheat pulled back in a severe bun gathered at the back of her head, very little makeup, and thin wire-framed glasses perched on the edge of her nose.
And I recognized her.
All common sense and reason evaporated as I suddenly bolted away from my group, brushing past John as he strode in front of me and broke for the boardroom. As I approached it, one of the chairs spun around, a blonde head revealing itself as the high back moved to the side. Carla Tanaka caught sight of me as I closed in on the glass wall. She offered me a dazzling smile that lasted a split second before melting into concern on seeing the look on my face. She said something, but I couldn’t hear it through the thick glass. The chair next to her started to turn, and I saw Hiro’s bespectacled face as he turned to watch me.
As I rounded the corner, my hand hit the glass wall to help me slow my momentum. The slap against the glass caught everyone’s attention, and they turned to watch as I rounded the parameter of the enclosed space and reached the entrance. With my jaw set and fists clenched, I tore open the boardroom door and stormed inside.
“What the fuck is this!?” I shouted. “Is this some kind of joke!?”
Everyone in the room grew silent—people I knew and people I’d only seen images of. They all looked around at each other, expressions ranging from scandalized to concerned. It was probably the first time someone had barged into their boardroom like a complete madman. Hiro stared at me with a harsh, disapproving gaze over the rim of his glasses.
I barely noticed him. My attention was on the woman with the briefcase. Her face was burned into my memory, and I could have described her perfectly if I lived to be eighty. The last time I’d seen her was a little over a week ago when I’d been kept against my will in a warehouse in Vegas.
Thanks again for reading another installment of the story. If you have any feedback, please feel free to email me. Or if you’re interested in reading any further installments, check out my Patreon at patreon.com/mindsketch. Chapters up to 50 are posted there already, and roughly 20 chapters of extra dirty bonus chapters. Thanks for your time and cheers!