Chapter Thirty-One
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OLIVER GIAMANO’S MIND was blessedly clear as he jotted down notes in a journal. Almost a month had passed since the governor had decided to go along with Rahab’s plans. “I’ve been taking notes and a pattern is emerging,” the politician muttered darkly.
Nine months had passed since the Rapture and the world had changed so drastically.
Thanks to his cunning, he was at the top of the food chain.
Average in stature, his intelligence was where he excelled.
“My ‘allies’ tried to take that away from me,” he said, keeping his voice down.
He knew something was off about the Soldiers of Chaos motorbike club.
It was far more than their size and freakishly red-tinted eyes that made his hackles rise.
Some of them had strange talents as well.
“I haven’t seen them use magic, but the Mad Prophet knows all about them,” he said craftily, jotting down his thoughts as he spoke.
After nearly four weeks of agreeing with everything Rahab and Xathan said during their meetings, he’d regained the clarity that had eluded him during the past few months.
“They’ve been controlling me like a puppet,” Oliver said, underlining the word twice. “I’m just a mouthpiece for Rahab. I’ve been parroting everything he tells me to say and he’s using me as a figurehead.”
Scribbling furiously to get his thoughts down on paper, he put the pen down, then massaged his aching hand.
It was early in the morning, but he couldn’t sleep last night.
He kept thinking about what Rahab’s end goal was.
He was drawing people to the city and either turning them into mercenaries or slaves for the farms and factories.
“Why do you think he’s gathering an army, Governor Giamano?” he asked himself. “So he can rule this city one day,” he replied with a deep scowl.
The muscular freaks weren’t his only concern.
Now he had Creel Lawson to contend with as well.
Oliver was ashamed of how easily he’d been manipulated by the newcomer.
Mr. Lawson had a certain rugged charisma that drew people to him.
He wasn’t polished or handsome. Instead, he was an average man who knew the right things to say to draw likeminded folks to him.
“They’re all racist bigots,” Governor Giamano muttered. “Creel’s moved all of the militants who aren’t white out of the city. Far too many mercs are his friends or are being drawn into his sphere,” he complained.
Both Rahab and the prepper were using Oliver to get their own way. It was humiliating that he’d allowed himself to be manipulated so easily. It was even worse now that he knew what was going on. He smiled and agreed with the decisions that were being made by his allies while seething on the inside.
“How can Rahab and Xathan use such strong hypnosis on me without me even realizing it?” he complained softly. It was a puzzle he didn’t have an answer for.
Oliver checked his watch a while later to see his receptionist should be arriving soon. He’d left a note on her desk and he was impatiently waiting for Ms. Roche to follow his orders.
Right on time, Ivy and the other original staff members he’d employed filed into his office. Ms. Roche looked lovely in her matching maroon blouse and skirt, but he no longer felt any sexual attraction to her. Will, Hector and Franko looked nervous, as if they were expecting to be fired.
“Thank you for coming, team,” the politician said. He rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his hands.
“Is something wrong, sir?” Ivy asked nervously.
“Not at all,” he said to put them at ease. There were only three chairs, so he didn’t bother to tell them to sit down. It would have been awkward while they tried to figure out who would remain standing. “As you know, it’s been nine months since the Rapture,” Oliver reminded them.
“Yes, sir,” Will said cautiously when he paused. Slightly goofy looking, he was tall and skinny. “Time really flies, sir,” the staffer added lamely.
“Yes, it does,” Oliver agreed. “The day after the Rapture, I contacted all four of you and convinced you to continue to work for me. After all of the chaos and madness, we’re still together. We’re making a difference for the survivors who were left behind.”
“We’re very lucky to have you as our boss, Governor Giamano,” Hector said sycophantically, then flushed when the others glanced at him. Shorter than the other men, Hector hadn’t regained any of the weight he’d lost when food became scarce. Their supplies were strictly rationed.
Oliver gave them his slick, well-practiced politician’s smile. “I’m wondering if you’re all still loyal to me,” he said casually.
Ivy immediately tensed up. “Of course we are, Governor,” she said.
Franko nodded vigorously. “You say jump and we say how high, sir,” he said, then slid a look at Ms. Roche. His crush on his colleague still hadn’t died even though he’d never stood a chance with her.
“Good,” the governor said in a pleased tone. “It’s come to my attention that my allies might not have our best interests at heart,” he said, voice turning grave.
“What do you mean?” Ivy asked, clutching her hands together.
“Rahab and his crew have been attempting to manipulate me to get their own way,” he said. “Creel Lawson appears to have his own agenda as well. I believe both Rahab and Mr. Lawson intend to try to usurp me. What do you think will happen to you all if I’m removed from my position?”
His staff exchanged cautious looks before Ms. Roche responded. “We’ll probably be removed as well, sir.”
“That’s right,” Oliver said, glad she was as smart as she was pretty.
“I’m sure there’s no need for us to be alarmed yet,” he went on.
“Their schemes will take time to come to fruition. In the meantime, I want you to spy on our allies. Notify me in person if you overhear or witness anything that you think I need to know about.”
“Of course, Governor Giamano,” Ivy said obediently and the others nodded in agreement.
“That will be all,” Oliver said. “Tell no one about this conversation,” he ordered before they began filing out of his office.
Ivy motioned for the guys to follow her to her office just down the hall. She waited for them to step inside before closing the door.
“Oh, man,” Will said in quiet dismay. “Our boss has finally lost it.”
“Did you see how shifty he was?” Hector asked. “His eyes were darting all over the place.”
“Oliver’s paranoid,” Franko said. “He thinks everyone is out to get him.”
“His mind started to crack a few months ago,” Ivy said. “We all knew this was coming.”
“What do we do now?” Will asked.
“I’ll handle it,” Ms. Roche said. “I’ll keep my eye on our boss. I’ll let you know if he sinks deeper into his paranoid fantasies of being usurped by his allies.”
Her colleagues returned to their offices, then Ivy made a cup of coffee for Xathan. She clicked on the walky-talky button to see if he was in his office.
“Yes?” his smooth, dark voice said.
“I need to talk to you,” Ivy said. “Can I come down to your office?”
“I happen to be free right now,” Xathan replied.
“Great. I’ll see you soon,” she said in anticipation. Leaving the walky-talky behind, she carried the cup of coffee with her as she took the elevator downstairs. Xathan’s guards nodded at her when she approached his office. She nodded back, then knocked.
“Enter,” her lover called out. His smile lifted her spirits when she entered, then shut the door. “You brought me more coffee,” he noted.
“It’s just an excuse to see you,” Ivy explained, putting the cup on his desk. “Oliver just called his original staff members to his office,” she said.
Sitting back in his chair while she leaned against his desk, Xathan listened intently to her report. “So, Governor Giamano has become paranoid,” he mused when she was done. “Do you think he’ll be a danger to you and your colleagues?”
“I doubt it,” Ms. Roche replied. “His mind is fractured and he’s a bit unpredictable, though.”
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Ivy,” Xathan said, gaze drifting from her face, down to her feet and back up again. “Show me how you want me to reward you,” he ordered.
Flushing with desire, Ivy lifted her skirt to reveal she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She turned her back to him, then leaned over his desk and widened her stance. “I think you know what I want, Xathan,” she said huskily as she assumed his favorite position.
His chair squeaked as he stood up. She heard the noise of a zipper and fabric rustling as Xathan’s trousers dropped to the floor.
Large hands came to rest on her hips, then he thrust himself into her.
She moaned in reaction, then clutched hold of the desk as the dark-skinned man of her dreams proceeded to reward her well.