Reckless: A Dark Romance (The Masters Book 1) Page 9

That shouldn’t make me so happy to hear.

  He disappears a moment; when he returns, he stuffs a gag into my mouth and buckles it shut.

  “Wake up, Kate.”

  I snap out of the afterglow, growling against the rubbery gag. What the fuck?

  “You’ve had days to work,” he says. “You must have found something of value. I’m going to take a shower. When I get back, you’re going to tell me something I can use. Is that clear?”

  I mumble an affirmative through the gag, though I doubt I would have sounded intelligible either way.

  I could almost cry — a moment ago he acted so tenderly. Was that real, or manipulation? I’m not a naive girl, but what if I can’t tell the difference?

  The fact is, I haven’t figured out who’s trying to kill him — but that doesn’t mean I haven’t figured out a few things.

  When he gets back, I tell him.

  I tell him what he’s going to do to help himself, and to help me.

  I give Eyal the night off and watch Kate myself. I do my best to pay attention when she explains her idea to me, but it’s complicated and pure genius and right now all I want to think about is her sweet, soft pussy clamping down around my hard stick. It takes her all day to help me connect all the dots, to link the confluence of political power, industrial potential and norm-breaking ingenuity. It’s going to be a huge hit.

  As a reward, I let Kate out of her cage for the whole evening. Her ass covered in ointment, she sprawls out on the couch with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and binges The West Wing on demand. There’s more work to do, but after this morning, she’s stuck in my head. I’m not going to get anything else done.

  I should be stoked about our plan, but I replay our morning together instead. I can’t believe I did that. No matter how badly she and I both wanted it, getting involved is a huge mistake. What if the Masters decide her island adventure has to end? There’s no defying a consensus of the Masters, so what would I do? Would I kill her? Could I stand by and let someone else? Pretty fucking doubtful. Everything would be fucked.

  But if Kate’s idea works… maybe it won’t be an issue.

  Still, I’ve got plenty of consequence-free options if I wanted to get my dick wet. Madeleine would hop on my cock in a second if I asked. Paulina and Sam wouldn’t take much convincing.

  Of course, if I wanted to fuck them, I’d be fucking them.

  Nope, I wanted Kate. It was impulsive and stupid, but holy fuck it felt good.

  After a light breakfast of diced melon, English muffins and coffee, I take Kate to the pavilion for the meeting I’ve called. I have her dress in leggings and a tight top, and give her time to do her makeup. She looks like a goddamn snack, and if it wasn’t so important for us to go, I’d throw her right back down on the bed. Considering the bubbling mess I left her in yesterday, she’d melt through her thong for another go. Not now, though.

  “I couldn’t wear a dress?” she asks as we march along. I’ve zip-tied her hands behind her back again, and leashed her collar. No more grimaces or rolled eyes, though — she’s getting used to it.

  Is she thinking about my cock going deep in her ass? That’s what I’m thinking about. She could be trying to change the subject for herself mentally; it’s what I should be doing.

  “I don’t want them thinking I’m doing you too many favors,” I say.

  “Whatever.”

  When we reach the pavilion, the Masters who are currently present on the island have all arrived. A few who have traveled elsewhere tune in via video conference, but some have declined — nobody we need, thankfully.

  Sovereign’s here, of course. Not that he needs to be. But what else is he going to do? I consider encouraging him to take a hike; he’s not going to enjoy what’s to come. Judging by the sour sneer on his face, he’s already aware.

  Jamison watches me with a curious expression; I smirk at him and nod. Just like everyone else, he has no idea what we’re about to propose.

  I lead Kate into the center of the meeting space; my colleague’s conversations cease immediately, and everyone sits up, giving us their undivided attention.

  “What would you think if I told you that we’re all a bunch of morons?” I ask, turning around in a circle to face everyone in sequence. Kate turns with me, as discussed. They laugh, reclining in their luxurious seats. “Would you believe that there’s been an opportunity just sitting under our noses and none of us fucking saw it?”

  Now they lean forward, confused but eyes wide with excitement.

  “Okay, Kate. Tell them what you discovered.”

  This causes a brief stir, a murmur that moves through the audience.

  This is her idea? they’re thinking. I know I would be.

  If Kate’s at all nervous, she doesn’t show any outward sign. Granted, she’s put her life on the line for her work before; this is just a far more extreme version. She waits for them to show her the same full attention they paid me, then begins.

  “In my work for LPN, my job was teasing information out of reluctant sources. It was making connections between disparate entities. My job was not just to find answers and report them, it was to ask questions that no one else has thought to ask. As a result, I became very good at seeing all the puzzle pieces and figuring out how they fit — or if they didn’t, because something was missing.”

  Her voice comes out strong and steady; there’s no stuttering or slips in her elocution. For all anyone here knows she’s practiced this presentation a dozen times, but she hasn’t.

  It’s a surprisingly powerful turn-on.

  “At LPN, I spent days learning everything I could about the world’s major players — people like you. There wasn’t a tycoon I hadn’t heard of, or a proposed piece of business legislation I hadn’t read. In a typical year I examine thousands of pages of financial records, so I know countless companies that are owned by the same shell corporations. However, discovering that all of you are secretly in league has explained a lot that before never added up. Now I’ve made a connection that you haven’t.”

  Sovereign snorts, shaking his head. I turn and glare, but Kate ignores him.

  “Mr. Hardt,” she says, turning to Jamison. “You own so much farmland, and any change you make to your company’s procedures will have ripples throughout the world economy. If you were to eliminate the use of pesticides supplied by the Valenti Chemical Company, it would effectively destroy them. No one here has any major holdings in Valenti, do you?”

  As she looks around, they all shake their head. The hint of a grin forms on Jamison’s lips.

  “Most of you own stock in Real World Organics. If you made that switch, Mr. Hardt, they could scale up their operation, drive out Valenti and claim a significant market share. More importantly, you all stand to benefit.”

  “Excuse me,” says Evo Griekin. “There’s a good reason why we all failed to notice this opportunity: it’s too small. We have far bigger ventures that will-”

  “I’m not finished,” Kate interrupts. Her eyes widen in momentary panic, but then she reclaims her calm exterior. “With all due respect, Mr. Griekin, I’ve just gotten started.”

  Evo lifts his hands in surrender, reclining in his seat.

  “Currently Valenti funds numerous lobbying firms in Washington. If they take a big financial hit, that goes out the window. There are five key U.S. senators who are funded by Valenti, and all of them support a piece of legislation, the Warner Act. It will level new penalties on companies abusing tax shelter protections — of which, all of you own several. If you can subvert Valenti, you can effectively kill this bill.”

  This gets a more serious reaction from my colleagues. We’ve been well aware of this bill for some time — we’ve calculated again and again how many billions it would cost us.

  “Hey, Kate,” Sovereign snarls. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re more than capable of exerting pressure on Congress.”

  She smirks.

  “Yes, everyone except for you.”

&nbs
p; The Masters laugh at Victor’s expense. His face darkens and he starts to stand, but one glance from me plants him back in his seat.

  “It’s true, you don’t need to cripple Valenti to steal their influence to defeat the Warner Act. However, you could use that influence to add an amendment to the bill: one that would include some lucrative exceptions…”

  Kate continues on with her plan for hours, laying it all out for us, one step at a time. Before long, the interruptions stop completely. Everyone from Jamison to Sovereign listens, rapt in the depth of her vision.

  “Pardon me,” says Anton Ford, Jamison’s new protege. “Wouldn’t international supply chains be affected by the new regulations? They can’t adjust so nimbly, and a market disruption that spooks them could eliminate all our stock gains.”

  Kate nods, smiling.

  “I’m glad you asked that, Mr. Ford. In fact, this is an area where you can help. With your factories in China, Vietnam and Laos, you can encourage the local authorities to maintain their current operation and rates…”

  As the afternoon wears on, she addresses every question asked, always ready with a satisfactory solution. Her plan is a work of art: a portrait that achieves granular focus as she paints first the large swaths, followed by the details. From start to finish, every stroke of her brush has been planned.

  “By the time this all falls into place, Congress will have cleared the way for you all to improve your yearly profits by ten to twenty percent, with a likely annual growth of an additional five percent throughout the next decade,” she concludes. “Are there any more questions?”

  Silence. Pure, unadulterated astonishment. I don’t blame them.

  “Ms. Atwood, thank you very much,” says Jamison, rising to his feet. “If you have any additional ideas, we’ll be all ears. Come to us as soon as you have something.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hardt,” she says, blushing. “I will.”

  “Ingram, keep her around a while. Kate, I don’t care that a month ago you were our enemy. If you can consistently demonstrate your value and prove your loyalty, we may have to consider making you a part of our organization.”

  “Thank you,” she says again, bowing her head.

  Does Jamison really mean that, or is he working her over? Never once in our history has he entertained the idea of inviting a woman to join the Masters. Has Kate convinced him she belongs? Or is he building a rapport to break down her resistance? I’d like to think Kate wouldn’t fall for that. But what if she craves approval from a surrogate father figure enough to cloud her judgment?

  The Masters get up and clap, producing a polite rumble of applause. Kate thanks them and takes her seat next to me. Relieved, she leans back and wipes a few drops of sweat from her forehead.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  The applause stops. Victor strides toward us. Jamison steps into his path.

  “Mr. Sovereign, if you have a problem-”

  “You’re damn fucking right I have a problem. This cunt is supposed to be dead! Not joining the club!”

  Now I get up, putting another body between him and Kate.

  “Sit your ass down,” I growl.

  Victor’s no pipsqueak, but I’ll pound his face into pulp if he takes another step.

  “Go fuck yourself, Dent,” he replies. “If you weren’t so desperate for tail-”

  “Enough!” Jamison roars.

  Victor and I both back up, but my fists stay ready.

  “You’re right, Victor. We were going to kill Ms. Atwood,” Jamison says. “However, Kate could be far more useful to us alive. As long as she is contained, and unable to hurt us, I don’t see the harm in letting her stay. If anyone disagrees with me, I invite you all now to speak up.”

  I nod to Jamison. Victor seethes.

  “By a show of hands, who is in favor of keeping Kate alive for the time being?”

  Except for Victor, all of the Masters raise their hands.

  “Opposed?”

  Victor glares at everyone as he casts a lone vote against.

  “Mr. Ford?” Jamison says to Anton. “Were you a member, what would you say?”

  Anton replies, “I would prefer to keep Kate alive. For the time being.”

  “Then that’s that,” Jamison says. “Should anyone change their mind and wish to hold a new vote, tell me. Until then, the issue is settled. Understood?”

  Victor grunts, turning to storm off.

  I told him not to attend. He should’ve listened.

  “Thank you, Kate. You’re dismissed,” says Jamison, waving over a pair of guards. “Could you please escort her to the harem?”

  I take Kate into my arms for a hug.

  “Go on, get something to eat. You did an amazing job.”

  “Thanks,” she mumbles, her stomach rumbling. “But I can’t stay?”

  Considering how much she’s supposed to hate the lot of us, I’d have thought she’d be glad to go. Then again, if she’s with us then she’ll be somewhere Victor is not. She’ll be safe from him in the harem, though.

  “I’ll see you later. Go.”

  Kate exhales her frustration as the guards bind her wrists, but she goes without a fuss. I watch her until the guards lead her out of sight.

  Enclave staff members break out the whiskey and cigars as the Masters separate into smaller social groups. Evo and a few others crowd around me, talking my ear off about how they’ll enact Kate’s plan. I smile and nod, while my brain tries to decide how I’m going to reward Kate later.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Dent?”

  I snap out of my daydreams to see Anton pulling up a seat next to me.

  “Could we talk a minute?”

  Despite his handsome smile, his excitable demeanor and limitless charisma, there’s something viscerally striking about Anton Ford. The lines in his face look too crisp; his eyes have a fake familiar quality, like he’s trying to inspire camaraderie with a glance. When he speaks, his voice somehow rings false for his body and personality. And yet, he’s managed to convince someone as shrewd as Jamison Hardt of his honesty and commitment to our organization.

  Maybe my gut-level objection to Anton is a concern for my standing in the group, not that there should be any. He’s not even a member yet; I’m next in line for the throne. Anton will pay his dues like everyone else. Hard-wired lizard brain paranoia is difficult to turn off — but I can try.

  “Sure, Anton. What’s on your mind?”

  “Kate’s mind, actually. I’d like to pick her brain sometime, if I could. I’m in telecommunications, she’s in media — I bet she could think of all kinds of new ways for me to expand.”

  I want to tell him to put on his big boy pants and figure it out for himself, or hire an analyst, because Kate’s not a business-building carnival sideshow — except, it’s rooted in a primal fear that he’s coming for my woman. And that’s ridiculous — he’s not. He wouldn’t dare, not when his admission into the Masters depends on securing my approval.

  Of course, if this is how I’m reacting to the slightest interest someone else has in Kate, I clearly have no intention of ever sharing her. She can find business opportunities for the Masters but she is mine. If anyone else even wants to be in the same room as her, they’re going to make it worth my while.

  “I’m sure she could,” I say, turning on the charm. “In fact, I’m glad you stopped by. I was actually hoping to ask you for a favor.”

  “Name it,” Ford replies, sipping from a glass of scotch. “What can I do for you?”

  There’s little he has that’s of value to me, but…

  “You’re friendly with Victor, isn’t that right?”

  “I should hope so,” Ford chuckles. “He introduced me to Mr. Hardt!”

  “Good. Could you talk to him, see if you could convince him to chill the fuck out about Kate?”

  Sighing, Anton pulls a cigarette from a golden case and ignites it with a matching gold lighter. After a long drag, he says, “I don’t know. Victor’s going to be p
issed I didn’t take his side.”

  Fair point, but Victor’s already pissed.

  “Remind him that Masters put business before personal matters.”

  “In other words, fucking grow up?”

  I laugh.

  “Phrase it however you think best. Just get Victor to relax, and I’ll set up a meet with Kate.”

  Ford stands up and holds out his hand for me to shake. I do, gripping hard. He does the same.

  “Thank you, Ingram,” he says. “I won’t forget this.”

  He turns to go quickly, as if afraid I might change my mind.

  Maybe I should. Crazy or not, I still can’t help thinking this is a bad idea.

  Colette brings me fried clams and scallops on an oil-stained paper plate.

  “I’m glad you’re trying the seafood,” she says. “This is the best you’ll ever have.”

  “Yeah, no shit. I’m imprisoned here. I’m not going to have it anywhere else.”

  Her mirth curdles.

  “Sorry,” she mutters.

  I pick up my plate and march to another table, one full of courtesans I’ve barely spoken to. Since my arrival, I’ve not spent much time here — most of it I’ve kept to myself or had Colette accompanying me. They glare as I sit down.

  “What?” I grunt. A bunch of prison drama is the last thing I need.

  “That was rude,” says one. “Colette’s trying to help you.”

  “She’s trying to pacify me.”

  I look back over my shoulder. Colette’s watching us, but she turns away when she notices me looking.

  “It’s kinda the same thing,” says the first one. “Until you get used to all this.”

  Popping a clam strip in my mouth, I savor the perfect flavor and medium-soft texture.

  “You don’t know who we are, do you?” asks another, a petite brunette with a permanent sneer on her face.

  I shake my head.

  “Should I?”

  “I’m Madeleine,” says another, scooting next to me. “That’s Courtney and Paulina, and they’re jealous of you being with Ingram. And that one is Sam,” she adds, indicating the brunette. “She’s pissed because you’re not hostile enough to Ingram, considering what he did to you.”