Chapter 27
The smell of skanks hangs like a heavy curtain as I’m led through this elaborately built mansion.
My guide is surprisingly taller than me, by a full head or so.
It would be intimidating if he wasn’t so lanky it bordered on skeletal.
His corpselike complexion lends him no aid as I brand him the resident ghost of Bleakcrest, seeing to its every need until the end of his days.
It seems inconceivable for him to be so pale. Does he not step a single foot outside?
Down a dim hallway, the sconce on the wall flickers. It immediately catches my attention, standing out like a turd in a fruit bowl in this pristine palace perched on the edge of paradise.
I almost crash into the butler due to my lack of awareness, and apologize.
He nods, the hair of his long, chocolate coloured comb-over obscuring one of his eyes.
“Right this way, sir,” he directs, voice scraping uncomfortably through the tension between us.
Turning down another corridor, opposite to the one with the flashing light, I follow, trying to not appear eager.
However, it’s proving to be a monumental task.
Unknowingly, Mr. Maximus Smythe welcomed his biggest competition into the heart of his empire.
This powerhouse that manages to one-up me at every turn.
Each new deal I try to broker gets smothered by him.
Even if the contacts don’t reveal him, I know it’s Max’s doing.
He’s keeping me in my lane, not allowing any room for growth or expansion.
I’ve only managed to keep the drugs running because he allows it.
My business runs down the river into his ocean.
Every tourist looking for party drugs end up in his clubs, the junkies looking for a fix crawl to his shelters for warmth, and the limp dick John’s end up in his whorehouse.
The man, who’s dressed far too proper for a place like this, stops before a dark wood door.
Extending his hand, he twists the knob slowly, the sleeve of his suit jacket retracting up his forearm with the movement.
The arms and legs of his suit are too short, and I wonder if he would need to have specially tailored clothes shipped to the island.
Despite the formal wear, he resembles a giant stuffed into a too-small uniform.
Deep blue eyes stare down a sharp nose, observing me much too close for this late in the game.
I don’t have a weapon on me, this time. The near colonoscopy I got before entering ensured that.
I’m in this for the long haul, willing to do whatever it takes to earn enough credit and trust with the head of this plague on the island until I can rip it out from beneath him while he chokes on his own blood.
The door swings open, the smell of humid weather and whiskey slinking up my nose.
There Maximus sits, charging the air around him by simply existing.
It doesn’t matter that he’s wearing the most ridiculous shirt I’ve ever seen, my mind registers it’s in the proximity of a predator as my heart rate kicks up.
This plan is honed to near perfection, over a year in the making. I even stepped into a hail of bullets to pull it off. But it doesn’t stop the nervous sweat from accumulating in every possible crevice of my body.
A cherrywood desk separates us, papers stacked neatly off to the side as Maximus Smythe watches something on the screen of his laptop. He’s so enthralled with the sight before him, I’m unsure if he notices us lingering at the entrance to his office.
A piercing scream rings out from speakers of the computer.
I swear it faintly echoes in the hallway to my rear as I wait awkwardly in the doorway.
A sickening grin splits Maximus’s lips, his gold canine glinting in the light.
Something uncomfortable slithers down my spine, and I have to refrain from shivering in its wake.
A faint whimper sounds, then Maximus lifts his eyes from the screen.
“Sir, Mr. Morgan is here for your meeting,” my chaperone near-whispers, slightly gesturing to me.
I half wonder if he’s hushed his voice so as to not drown out whatever has that stomach-churning smile on his boss’s face.
But I push the thought from my mind as it will only rattle me further.
Maximus delicately closes his laptop, nodding. “Thank you, Mr. Callaghan.” He shoos the butler away without another word. Looking to me, his sharp emerald gaze is assaulting. “Please, close the door behind you and take a seat.”
I comply, sealing him in this room with me, nothing more than the quiet click of the latch to be heard.
“So, it’s my understanding you’d like to invest in a certain area of my…” he waves his hand, looking for the proper word, “company.”
“That’s right.”
“And what could I possibly gain by merging with you?”
The urge to pick up the amber paper weight and beat this snide motherfucker with it is hard to resist, but the mosquito trapped within it stops me.
Of course the prick shares my love of dinosaur movies.
Perhaps bonding with him won’t be so difficult after all.
“Expansion,” I drawl. “And…more diverse merchandise.”
His eyebrow quirks up at that.
Got him.
“And what, pray tell, is that?”
“Cleaner cuts. Willing workers. Faster shipments of better quality.”
“What makes you think my workers aren’t willing?”
I level him with a look. Does he think I’m an imbecile?
Just then, another scream echoes through the hall, the sound dampened by the thick wood door. Maximus doesn’t so much as blink. I’m going to need to give a little to sway him.
“Look, it’s my understanding that there’s an ever-growing thorn in your side. If you decide this partnership is in your favour, I’ll eliminate him without breaking a sweat.”
That pain in his ass is me, but he doesn’t need to know that. My surgeon worked so much fucking magic after I was shot that I’m unrecognizable, and my second-in-command is passing as a bandaged up version of myself with a persistent limp.
“And if I decline your very generous offer?”
“No hard feelings. Though, before I go, I’d like to view the…most difficult pieces in your collection.”
Maximus rises from his seat, a smirk peeling across his lips. “Have I got just the one for you.”
“Lead the way.” My smile matches his sinister one as total titillation quakes through my body.
I’m giddy as fuck and trying hard to hide it.
Any earlier feelings of trepidation have disappeared at the mere thought of acquiring myself a new plaything.
Previously, I’ve found myself willing partners.
People who want to be degraded and broken, someone who feels they deserve the things I ache for.
However, I need a reason to weave myself into the fabric of Maximus’s operation, and having a favoured whore to regularly visit can’t hurt.
I want a fresh doll, one unsullied by another filthy fuck’s hands.
Thankfully, I have the money to pay for it, all because of the pitiful drug ring Mr. Smythe allows me to carry on with.
Moving like liquid through his office, Maximus makes his way to the door.
I rise from the dark leather wingback chair, following behind.
It would be so easy to strangle the life out of him like this, or snap his neck before he even knew what hit him.
But, I can be a bit of a dick. I want him to know it’s me ripping away his life’s work and claiming it for myself, while he dies a slow and painful death.
We stroll leisurely in silence down the hallway, coming up in front of the flickering light I noticed before.
Opposite the sconce sits a bookshelf. To the right of it there’s a small panel on the wall.
Maximus flips it open, placing his hand on the pad.
A metallic click sounds, and he winces almost imperceptibly.
When he pulls his palm back, a small spec of blood gleams.
This is some next level tech I wasn’t prepared to deal with. Hopefully, Bucky knows what the fuck this all is when I relay it back to him, because there’s no way in hell I can take pictures or prod Mr. Smythe about its components.
Maximus turns back to me as the bookshelf disengages from the wall. “If your blood’s not in the system, you’re not getting in.”
“Does an alarm sound?” Fuck, I shouldn’t have asked that.
“No, but whoever dared to enter will die without any intervention from me.”
Well, what the fuck does that mean? “Good to know.”
“After you.” He gestures, waving me forward, no longer comfortable with having me at his back.
Stepping forward, a metal staircase descends into the darkness, and I tentatively take my first step.
My body’s taut with anticipation and a sudden burst of anxiety.
I’m unarmed, heading into the unknown with the devil of the island chain.
While confident in my hand-to-hand combat skills, I have no idea what awaits me at the bottom.
“Watch your step,” Maximus says from behind me, too close for my liking. “It’s a bit steep. Lights will kick on about halfway down.”
“All right then.” So, I proceed. Like a lion dressed as a lamb lead to the slaughter, spiralling into the endless abyss of his lair.