by Alexis Angel
And, between you and me, I gotta say… I had a smile on my lips the moment I held the test in my minds and it turned out positive.
Of course, I know that this changes things. And, sooner or later, the truth will have to come out.
I just hope it’s later rather than sooner.
22
Magnus
Lawyers, accountants, state legislators, hardened politicians - New York’s finest under one roof. And, of course, two heavyweight contenders sitting across one other, each with their personal armies ready with expensive pens and stacks of documents. I’m talking about yours truly and, of course, Laurel Trask.
This is our most important showdown in months, a meeting where the future of Equinox Tower is going to be decided. And it’s already over; truth be told, it was already over before it even started. I came into this affair prepared, and it showed. Laurel had her lawyers pull every trick in the fucking book to try and bury the deal, but she didn’t have a chance - Joyce’s leading my legal team, and there’s no beating Joyce.
Things got heated up for a moment as Laurel tried to goad me into arguing with her, but I managed to not fall into that trap. I deflected most of her questions easily, and made her look like an out-of-control psycho. She isn’t too happy about that, that much I can tell. But there’s nothing she can do right now - the committee has already took a break to deliberate, and now all we can do is wait for their response. Which I’m pretty fucking sure is going to be a favourable one.
“Mr. Davion,” the chairman of the Equinox Tower committee starts, clearing his throat and glancing across the room with a bored look on his face. I bet the poor bastard would rather be playing golf right now, instead of sitting here and being hammered from all sides. Not that I give a fuck - I know that it was Laurel who set him up to chair the committee, hoping to tilt the scales in her favor. No such luck. Joyce has been spearheading this effort, and she really brought the whole thing home, devising a bullet proof project that no sane mind would ever vote down. We backed the committee against the wall, and they can’t vote down our bid for the Equinox project without losing face.
“I think there isn’t much to be debated in here. It’s pretty clear to the committee that you’re putting some real effort into bringing the Equinox Tower project into fruition and, as such, it’s my duty to inform you that the New York City has, after carefully deliberating upon the subject, decided to give you the green light.” Then, after a moment’s pause, he pushes the final sentence out. “The contract is yours. Congratulations.”
I don’t mean to gloat, swear to God, but it’s stronger than me. I glance around the conference table and, meeting Laurel’s eyes, I open up into a grin and fucking wink at her. Her face grows red as she holds her breath, her shark eyes spelling out murder, and I wink once more for good measure. Hey, it’s not my fucking fault she’s a sore loser - besides, she was the one trying to cheat me out of this contract. Let her be angry if she wants. I don’t give a fuck.
Feeling pretty happy about the way things turned out, I get up from my seat nonchalantly and head out of the conference room, making my way out of the room. A few hundred reporters are lining the City Hall’s outer steps, and they all stand up to attention as they see me walking out of the door.
“Mr. Davion, Mr. Davion,” they call after me, shoving a few dozen mics in front of my face, “did you get the deal?”
“My friends, this is a good day for New York,” I smile at them and then, opening my hands wide, continue. “New York City is going to be the home for the tallest building in the world, Equinox Tower!”
I’m not even going to lie - it feels fucking glorious to be able to say it. Building the tallest tower in the world has been a dream of mine for God knows how fucking long, and now I’m really going to be able to do it. Soon enough, right between Central Park and Madison Avenue, Equinox Tower is going to reach into the skies.
Besides, this also translates as a few hundred millions in profit which, as you can guess, also feels fucking glorious.
I look around the crowd of reporters, looking for a special someone, and there she is, right in the middle of the fray. With a notepad in her hand, a pencil between her thumb and index finger, Penny’s scribbling away as I speak.
“How does it feel, Mr. Davion? It’s been an uphill struggle to get the city to award you this contract,” one of the journalists closest to me asks, and I turn my eyes toward him and grin.
“It feels amazing, Michael,” I reply, reading the badge hanging from his breast pocket. “This whole deal took tremendous effort to put together, and I owe it all to a special someone.” The journalists start buzzing their questions faster now, just like a swarm of angry bees, and I find myself trying to wave them down. Chill the fuck out everyone.
“Who?” I hear that question repeated ad nauseam, but I keep the answer to myself. I just push my way through the crowd of journalists and walk straight toward Penny. The journalists part before me as they see where I’m heading, and I feel like fucking Moses parting the Red Sea.
Penny’s eyes widen so much it almost seems like they’re going to pop out of their sockets, but I just smile at her and drape one arm over my shoulders.
“Penny Wright, my stepdaughter,” I proclaim, “has been instrumental in all this this. If it weren’t for her advice, I doubt we’d have such a happy conclusion.” She turns to me, slightly flushed, and then smiles. She opens her arms and hugs me tight, her perfume making me feel slightly lightheaded. Fuck, I can’t wait to get home and rip her dress off of her body. I want to fucking celebrate.
Maybe I shouldn’t be this vocal about Penny, allowing the world to shine a spotlight on her, but I just can’t fucking help myself right now. I really feel thankful for having her in my life and, besides, her advice really helped secure this deal. I thought long and hard about what she told me, how people wanted their vision of the world reflected back at them, and that went a long way when it came to my meetings with the board. She was right: once your mirror what’s in people’s hearts and minds, they can’t attack you… Or else they’d be attacking themselves. I know I really sound like a fucking Zen master right now, but I’m not trying to bullshit you.
Holding Penny close to me, her delicate body pressed against my own, I lean in and lay my lips on her cheek.
The journalists go wild, and everyone’s snapping pictures left and right. They start asking me so many fucking questions that I don’t even bother with responding to a single one.
Penny’s in my arms, the Equinox deal is moving forward - fuck, it feels good to be alive!
23
Penny
It’s already 9 pm, but my mother’s still in her office. I can see that the lights are still on, their orange glow showing under the door; I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to catch her in her office, but it turns out I was right about her whereabouts.
After Magnus’ impromptu conference on City Hall’s steps, we left in a hurry and rushed toward One57 in his limo. We made it out all the way, and it took only half a minute for him to rip my dress apart once we were inside his apartment. He was in a celebratory mood and, I’ll admit, so was I.
We fucked until our bodies were drenched in sweat, and then we fucked some more. We did it until our muscles grew cramped, and only then did we allow exhaustion to finally take over us both. Afterward, I lay naked in bed by Magnus’ side, fully knowing that, sooner or later, I’d have to face my mother.
My job was a simple one: to destroy Magnus Davion and make sure that the Equinox deal never came into fruition. I managed to do just the opposite. Despite not agreeing with my mother, there’s no other way to say it: she misplaced her trust in me and paid the price for it.
I got dressed and, despite Magnus’ insistence for me to spend the night, I got out of One57 and grabbed a taxi. I tried to call my mother several times, but she never picked up; as such, I decided to head for the Daily Journal’s office. After Laurel Trask lost her battle with Magnus, I figured my mother would be hiding in her
office, fuming about everything that happened.
And that’s where I am now, slowly making my way across the long rows of empty desks. Most of the staff has already gone home by now, and only a few unlucky souls remain in their desks, hunched over their laptops. They barely notice me walking in, and I make my way toward the Editor in Chief office with a knot in my stomach. I knock once, and then twice, but no answer comes.
Not willing to give up this easily, I open the door and step inside. My mother’s sitting by her desk, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and she doesn’t even raise her eyes from the documents she’s reading as I enter her office.
“I’m busy. I don’t want to be disturbed right now, so --”
“Mom, it’s me,” I say, and she finally raises her eyes to look at me. With careful movements, she takes her reading glasses off her nose and places them on top of the folders she was reading.
“What are you doing here, Penny?” she says, almost too casually. Breathing hard, I close the door behind me, walk toward the desk, and sit across her.
“I came to… apologize,” I whisper softly, waiting to see a look of sadness and disappointment creep up on my mother’s face. That doesn’t happen, though. She just looks at me with a blank expression, waiting. “I know we don’t agree on a lot of things, but I know that you didn’t want it to end like this, with Magnus getting the Equinox contract. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she whispers back at me, and then a faint smile takes over her lips. “You’ve played your part, Penny. Maybe you couldn’t see the whole chessboard in front of you, but you did everything you were supposed to.”
“I… I don’t understand,” I start, and my mother’s smile widens even more.
“You don’t need to understand. Your job is almost done, Penny. There’s one last thing for you to do, and then this is all going to be over,” she continues, her voice strangely calm. This isn’t how I envisioned things would go. I expected a shouting match, a mother and daughter fight for the ages… and all I get is her quizzical smile and confusing words. What the hell’s going on?
“What…?” I ask her, and she picks up a sheet of paper from her stack of documents and slides it across the desk.
“This is a draft. It’s the only weapon left that we have against Magnus. I want you to write this column and own up to what’s in there. And then this whole thing will be over. I promise you. It might not be easy, but Laurel Trask is on our side… And she’ll look after you.”
Not understanding a word of what my mother’s saying, I grab the sheet of paper in front of me, and I feel my blood freezing in my veins as I start reading through the document. It’s a Gossip Central rough draft, and what’s in there is so vile I feel nauseous right now.
“What the hell is this?” I ask, anger turning my voice bold. “Are you insane?”
“I’m not insane,” she responds calmly, as if my answer wasn’t a rhetorical one. “Rewrite that draft in your own words, and publish it under your name. You always said you wanted to be a journalist, it’s time for you to become a real one.”
“Journalist?” I crumple the paper harshly, turning it into a rough white ball, and throwing it on top of the desk. “These are lies! You don’t care about the truth… You just care about… I don’t even know what you care about, mom! I don’t even know you anymore.” I stare her down for a few tense seconds, and then I give her my obvious reply to her request. “I’m not doing this.”
“You have to, Penny. Or else you might find yourself out of a job.” Her words feel like a precise jab to my stomach, but I recover from it in a heartbeat. A threat? I know exactly where she can shove these threats of hers.
Without a word, I get up from my seat and start making my way out of her office. I open the door and, just before leaving, look back at her from over my shoulder.
“Guess I’m out of a job then,” I say, and then slam the door behind me.
24
The New York Daily Journal
Papa Don’t Preach!
Gossip Central on Page Eight. From the Desk of Vicky Durner - All the gossip you never even knew you needed to know!
A somber salutation to you, Gotham.
Why somber?
We've reported on Magnus Davion extensively over the course of the last few months.
But all that comes to a close at this point.
In the past, the antics of Mr. Davion were boorish, immature, and that of an overgrown man-child.
His actions that are now being alleged are that of a menace to society.
They disrespect all women. They hurt us as a society. And they cut close to home as well.
Over the last 24 hours, a lot has changed at the New York Daily Journal.
We've had to let go of a celebrated staff reporter, Penny Wright.
And yes, Penny is the daughter of our fearless leader, Rhoda Wright. She gave Penny a job on the Gossip Desk, writing under the Vicky Durner pen name right out of college.
And it turns out that Penny has been trading sexual favors for shading the coverage of Magnus Davion to be more positive.
That's right.
You read that correctly. Penny Wright has been engaged in a sexual relationship with Magnus Davion.
But if you're trying to figure things out in your head, let us go ahead and make that very clear to you.
You're not wrong. Magnus is indeed Penny's stepfather.
He was married very briefly to Rhoda Wright. Penny was younger at the time, but it looks like Magnus and his stepdaughter are taking the relationship to the next level.
Or are they?
Who chaperoned this relationship? We're saying eewwww at the age difference. Magnus is several years older than her. He used to be married to her mother.
Does she call him Daddy in bed?
That's right. We asked the question. Are these two individuals mentally ill? Do they engage in fantasies that are taboo and forbidden? Is that what gets them off?
We're asking these questions, New York, because we know that you're asking them too.
And they deserve to be answered. Because at the end of the day, Magnus Davion is building the Equinox Tower. Do you want to get in on an elevator designed and built by a man who likes receiving head from his daughter?
Right. If that question makes you wince, it's because it's supposed to.
Clearly, this man does not have the same morals that the rest of society does. If he's so cavalier about engaging in sexual relations with his stepdaughter, who's to say if he holds the same value on the sanctity of life.
Maybe he doesn't really care whether that elevator works or not as long as he got paid. Those people that get trapped and suffocate to death? Magnus Davion may not even care. We don't know if he does or does not. But clearly he's not normal.
It's high time Magnus Davion was removed from the positions of power he occupies.
This paper has already taken steps to remove his stepdaughter, who's most likely sexually brainwashed by him.
It's time to put our heads together and undo his vile influence.
We'll report more as we find out.
Till then, keep your ears open, New York. We'll be listening.
25
Magnus
Fucking Rhoda. She really had to go and fucking stab me in the back, didn't she? And, not happy with it, she had to go and throw Penny under the bus as well. Her hate knows no fucking boundaries. Of course, Laurel’s fingers are all over this as well. These two are like two peas in a fucking pod. No wonder, though, after the way my marriage to Rhoda ended.
I throw the Daily Journal on top of my desk and get up from my chair. I pace around the office, trying to think of a way to minimize the damages. Oh, yeah, make no mistake about it: the damages are happening as I speak, and they’re going to be fucking huge. Right now, the directors on my board are probably in a panic, and these fucking bastards don’t play well under stress.
The Daily Journal has just published this bullshit
exposé, and now the rest of the press has fucking latched on to the whole thing like hungry vampires. Only one hour has passed since the article has been on the streets, and my office is already swamped with phone calls from journalists from all over the country, all of them calling in to get a comment. Yeah, these motherfuckers don’t even care about checking the facts—all they want is one big juicy comment for them to spin around and turn into money.
“I came in as soon as I heard,” Joyce blurts out, entering my office without knocking. Her hair, usually done in a neat bun, is now a disheveled mess; I guess she checked her phone first thing in the morning and, finding out about this fucking mess, just jumped out of bed and drove here.
“This is a fucking mess, Joyce,” I hiss, grabbing the newspaper from my desk and waving it around, my fingers curled tight around it.
“I hate to do this, but as your lawyer I have to ask… is any of it the truth?” she asks me, and the expression on my face must be a terrifying one, because she just raises her hands up in the air defensively and shrugs. “I had to ask.”
From saying that I pressured Penny to have sex with me, to flat out state that I used her as plant to fabricate a good buzz around my company… Rhoda fucking outdid herself this time. And I can’t help but be fucking pissed that Joyce even had to ask if any of it is true. Jesus, what kind of man do people think I am? Some fucking sociopath degenerate?
“I’m going to sue the Daily Journal so fucking hard they won’t even be able to run a Facebook account after I’m done with them,” I say, tearing the newspaper in half and then crumpling it in my hands. I’m usually cool under pressure, but they’ve dragged Penny into this. And I won’t fucking have that. Not in a million years.