meant no disrespect, Lucian. As you know, I value and respect your place in this collective. Your great-grandfather was one of the progenitors of this study. Of this group! If you feel he’s not right for what we’re trying to achieve, know that your vote holds weight.”
“I feel Patrick’s interest is selfish. All around this table sit wealthy and very powerful individuals.” I glance around at all of them, successful business owners and politicians, physicians and high-ranking military officials. All with one thing in common: they find pleasure in hurting others. It’s practically a favor to Patrick, convincing this group to deny him.
And if he is denied, he’ll be watched. If he so much as whispers one word about the collective, he’ll vanish into thin air, never to be seen again, because that’s how strongly they would protect their anonymity. Surveillance is already in place, and when Patrick leaves this party tonight, someone will be following him home.
“I fear this myself. We’ve managed to keep the motivations of this collective pure, but I must say, this new information threw me. However, we will need to look into the validity of it.”
“We’ve not yet had a twin for the study.” The older man beside me, perhaps in his late sixties, is the owner of a chain of home improvement stores, his face the logo for the company. His mask sits on the table in front of him, while he sits rubbing his jaw. “It is a curiosity, to me, anyway.”
I want to ask him if it’d be worth the public finding out he’s a sexual sadist who enjoys hogtying women and flogging them.
Another member at the opposite end of the room, a senator from Massachusetts, shakes his head, having removed his mask, as well. “Boyd is sloppy. The scandal involving the girl was an absolute mess. Not worth the risk, in my opinion.” His thing is cutting subjects with razors. He once left over a hundred cuts on a man who sought out the collective.
“Years ago,” the older man beside me volleys back. “I doubt anyone but stiff political competition would even remember.”
The senator sneers and waves his hand in dismissal. “The man couldn’t get elected to an ass wiping committee, let alone the senate.”
Bored with their arguments, I turn my attention back to Friedrich. “My vote is no. And if you don’t need anything more from me, I’d like to be excused.”
“If that’s your wish. Though, I would strongly advise you to make the effort of attending more of our meetings. Important matters are discussed that affect you.”
“I’ll have the next one added to my calendar.” I push up from my chair and straighten my coat.
“Very good.” Friedrich sighs, sitting back in his chair. “In the meantime, I’ll request more information regarding Mr. Boyd.”
Eased back in my office chair, I sip my liquor, staring across the room as the elevator dings and Isa steps out. I don’t know why my pulse quickens at the sight of her, like any second she’ll take off on a dead run and make me chase her.
As she edges closer, I don’t take my eyes off her. Couldn’t if I wanted to.
“You changed out of your dress.” I drink in the beauty of her in a simple T-shirt stretched over supple breasts, and tight leggings that hug her toned calves. My mind rewinds back to earlier in the night, when I had my face buried between her thighs, while her moans echoed all around me.
“It was uncomfortable.” Something is different about her, the way she doesn’t volley some smartass remark and hasn’t met my gaze once since walking into the room.
“What’s wrong?”
Her brows flicker, and she winds her fingers in the hem of her shirt. “You had Rand fetch me.”
“And?”
“And … it just felt a little … strange. After what happened in the courtyard tonight.”
“You’d have preferred I come myself.”
“Would’ve felt more personal. Less like a business transaction.”
I polish off the rest of my drink, setting the glass down on the coaster, and rise up from my chair. Dragging a finger over the smooth mahogany wood, I round my desk and come to a stop only inches away from her. The twitch of her shoulder, the quick rise and fall of her chest, the steady diversion of her gaze--small cues I notice that tell me she’s nervous around me all of a sudden.
Reaching out a hand, I brush my knuckles down her cheek and catch the subtle tilt of her head away from my touch.