Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
M arise slipped out the front door of the Wainright house without a word. The air was crisp, a welcome bite after the heat of the confrontation with Kathleen.
The car arrived only a few minutes after she ordered it, which suited her.
She needed to get out of the place as soon as possible to lick her wounds.
When she climbed into the back seat, she gave the address of Darlene’s apartment block.
As the cab pulled into the street and turned south through the city, she stared out the window, trying not to think.
But the silence inside the car only made the memory of Kathleen’s voice louder.
“Get out of my life.”
It played in her mind on loops, each repetition dug a little deeper, like a bruise sinking through layers of skin.
At first, everything had gone well; she’d made contact with Darlene, exactly what they had planned.
Then it had all turned to shit. She’d underestimated Darlene’s vindictiveness towards Kathleen.
Telling her parents that ‘Veronica’ was an escort was spiteful and unwarranted— Marise had already promised to go with her.
Then the final nail was driven into her coffin when Ted turned up at the party. Kathleen had looked at her like she was one of her bugs. All that warmth and love disappeared into disbelief and disgust.
“Who are you?”
A question she didn’t know how to answer.
Outside the window, life shimmered in the city that never slept. Crowds roamed the streets. Steam rose from sewer grates. Neon bled down the glass of passing taxis. When she caught her reflection faintly in the car window, she looked away, hating herself.
She checked her phone. Nothing, simply wishful thinking Kathleen would text.
After the cab pulled up in front of the Phoenix Tower, the doorman nodded and opened the glass doors without a word.
As she adjusted her dress, she felt the hidden microphone stitched into the lining pressing into her side.
When she stepped into the mirrored lobby and headed for the private lift to the penthouse, the concierge gave her a discrete nod.
The air inside the elevator was softly scented, chilled and expensive.
Her stomach turned the higher they went to the twenty-fourth floor. The lift chimed, and the doors opened directly into the apartment.
It was as she remembered: Immaculate, all soft lighting and white leather. The floor-to-ceiling glass framed the skyline creating a spectacular view, with the Empire State Building glowing in the distance.
Darlene stood near the window, wearing a black negligee trimmed with delicate lace, the kind that looked like it had never seen a washing machine. Her hair was down, brushed to gleaming, and her glass was already half-empty.
“Pour yourself a wine,” she said not looking around.
Marise walked silently over to the bar, poured a drink and raised the glass. “Cheers.”
Darlene turned around to look at her. “What are we toasting?”
Marise smiled. “To new alliances.”
They drank. The wine was superb—dry, layered, expensive and it went down too easily.
Marise let it warm her throat, but not her mind. She was here for a reason and to drink too much would compromise everything.
Darlene prowled across the room like a lioness, bare feet silent against the marble. Her glass glinted in the light, still half-full. Marise could feel the shift in the air, the beginning of something that wasn’t conversation.
But she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Marise sat down on one of the white leather lounges and crossed her legs, keeping her voice casual. “Before anything happens, I think we should talk.”
Darlene arched an eyebrow. “Talk?”
Marise swirled her wine. “If we’re going to be more than client and escort, we need to be clear about what that means. I’m not here to play house and I’m not interested in being someone’s toy.”
Darlene looked faintly amused. “So, you’re negotiating terms before bed?”
“I’ve come to see if we’re compatible,” Marise said bluntly. “You’re used to being the one in control. I get that, but I’m an equal. If you’re after a kept woman who’ll stay quiet and pretty, look elsewhere.”
Darlene lowered herself gracefully into the armchair opposite, one leg tucked under the other. “You sound like you’re pitching a business merger.”
“Maybe I am,” Marise said, smiling faintly. “One with benefits. Charm, grace, polish—those are givens. I know how to move in your world, so you don’t have to worry who’s on your arm.”
Darlene took a slow sip, studying her over the rim. “You’re very self-assured.”
Marise shrugged. “I told you at the party why I’m here. I want out of this business and a lot more out of life.”
“Very well.” Darlene leaned forward slightly. “Tell me what you bring to the table.”
Marise matched her gaze. “I have skills that go well beyond small talk and seduction. I’m a good researcher. A very good one. I know how to find and hide things. I’ve worked for people far more powerful than you—and walked away with leverage.”
That made Darlene sit up straighter.
Marise went on, voice low and steady. “There are names I could give you. Names of men and women who paid for my time, and told me things they shouldn’t have. You’d be surprised how many secrets come out over dinner and champagne. I didn’t forget them.”
Darlene's eyes sharpened. “Are you saying you kept records?”
“I’m saying I’m resourceful. Discreet when I want to be. Dangerous when I don’t.” Marise let that hang, then softened her tone. “You’re always looking for an edge, aren’t you?”
Darlene didn’t deny it. “And you’d share these... assets?”
Marise lifted the bottle from the ice bucket beside them and topped up Darlene’s glass before answering, “If we’re partners, you’ll see the value in having someone like me at your side, as well as beneath you.”
Darlene smiled slowly, clearly enjoying the sparring. “You’re ruthless. I admire that.”
They clinked glasses again, this time with more weight behind it.
Darlene leaned back, stretching out on the couch with her glass balanced in one hand. Her hair shimmered in the soft light, her expression one of lazy indulgence. “You intrigue me, Veronica. I never thought you had this in you.”
Marise raised an eyebrow. “Because I didn’t sleep with you when you snapped your fingers?”
“Because you’ve decided to outplay me. That’s a bold move.”
Marise let a small smile touch her lips. “I prefer to say forthright .”
“I like that in a woman,” said Darlene and thrust out her glass for a refill.
Veronica obliged, putting only a dash in hers.
They drank, and talked about power, reputation, people they both knew in passing. Marise dropped a few well-placed names. Darlene responded with stories of her own: some sharp, some scandalous, all delivered with the confidence of someone who believed herself untouchable.
She swirled her glass and gave Marise a long look. “So where are you from? Before all this.”
“L.A.,” Marise said lightly. “But I’ve been a citizen of nowhere for a long time and worked at many things.”
“That make sense,” Darlene said. “You have the confidence of someone who has experience but is always passing through.”
Marise leaned back. “What about you?”
“Take a guess.”
“Somewhere academic. You’ve got that polish.”
Darlene laughed softly. “You’re spot on. I married a lecturer, if you can believe it. Alan taught biology at UVA. I baked, played hostess, and eventually realised I was dying of boredom.”
“You left him?”
“I outgrew him.” She drained her glass and extended it lazily for a top-up. “And I didn’t feel like spending the rest of my life grading papers and making lasagna for dinner guests who talked in circles.”
Marise filled her glass again, then put a dash in hers. “And then?”
“I travelled. Watched, learned, took notes. By the time I landed in New York, I knew what I wanted.”
“And what was that?”
“Everything.” Darlene took a sip and met Marise’s eyes over the rim. “Money, status, leverage. I married a wealthy man for it.”
“You weren’t happy with him?”
“No. He was a bore.”
“But everyone needs something.” Marise shifted slightly on the couch, making sure Darlene’s glass stayed full.
Darlene tilted her head. “You want a bankroll.”
“I’m not looking for a sponsor. I’m looking for a collaborator.”
Darlene let out a purring sound and settled closer. Her bare thigh brushed Marise’s. Her hand followed. A light stroke, fingers ghosting along skin, lingering too long to be casual.
Marise ignored it. “I suspect you’re not in New York for pleasure.”
Darlene grinned, slurring a little with her words. “No. I moved to Dubai after the divorce. I’m here because I learnt of an opportunity.”
“Is it lucrative?”
“Very. I’m going to make a fortune.”
Marise placed her hand on her thigh and stroked. “How are you going to do that?”
Darlene purred, pleased with herself. “An auction.”
“Oh? What kind?”
Darlene gave her a sly smile. “Private. Highly selective. You won’t find it on any dark web forums. It’s not about access. It’s about knowing the right people.”
“You’re running it?”
“I’m the gatekeeper,” Darlene said with relish. “The item’s mine.”
Marise sipped her wine slowly. “You’re not worried it’ll blow back on you?”
“It’s encrypted, firewalled, and hosted overseas. The bidding will be anonymised. The data won’t trace to me.”
Marise blinked slowly, calculating. “And the buyers?”
“Names you’d know,” Darlene said, pride heavy in her voice. “Politicians. Defence consultants. Tech moguls. All interested. The kind of people who want a shortcut to the next decade of energy dominance.”
“You do have influence. What’s the buy-in?”
“A special server,” Darlene said, leaning forward now, lips close to Marise’s ear. “Custom access key. Wednesday night, West 12th, back room of the Valmont Club. Nine sharp.”
Marise nodded slowly, careful not to react.
Darlene smiled languidly and trailed her hand along Marise’s knee. “You’re very tense. Shall I loosen you up.”
Marise held up the bottle. “It’s a shame to waste this. It must have cost a fortune.”
Darlene leaned in, pressed a soft kiss below Marise’s ear. “Only the best for you, darling.”
She topped up the glasses, then whispered, “Drink up. Then show me that bed of yours.”
Darlene’s eyelids fluttered as she downed the wine and Marise helped her up. She didn’t protest and allowed herself to be led to the bedroom.
The bed was enormous, with cream silk sheets, and a pile of pillows.
Marise pulled back the covers and guided her down onto the mattress.
Darlene murmured something, eyes already shut.
Marise pulled the blanket over her before stepping away.
Once she was satisfied that she was sound asleep, she left the room to search for Darlene’s phone.
She found it in the evening bag she’d taken to the party.
She plugged in the small device in her pocket.
Darlene’s password wasn’t complicated and it didn’t take long for the program to open the phone.
After she took a photo of her list of contacts and the numbers of her calls in the last month, she replaced the phone where she found it.
At the desk in the corner of the lounge, she scratched out a note on the hotel pad.
Thanks for the wonderful night. You’re a very sexy woman. I’ll ring you tonight.
Back in the bedroom, she rumpled the sheet where she would have been sleeping, then put the note on the pillow.
She chuckled to herself as she let herself out of the apartment. Darlene had been so wasted she wouldn’t have remembered if they’d had sex or not.
Thankfully, this late, the doorman had gone off duty. She walked a little way down the street before she hailed a cab.