Disruption

by Shirvington, Jessica

  He put out his hand. ‘Sebastian.’

  I shook his hand, then picked up a spoon and scooped a mouthful of chocolate into my mouth while he scanned his M-Band. At least it was a delicious honey trap.

  ‘I take it you like to live on the edge,’ he said, watching me with open fascination.

  ‘Because I eat what I like?’

  He looked me over. ‘Something tells me it’s more than that.’

  I gave a slow, condescending nod. It was my best attempt at blowing him off. He didn’t take the hint.

  ‘You don’t have your Phera-tech on. May I ask why?’

  ‘You may,’ I replied, leaving it at that.

  He smiled as if intrigued by me, but his interest came second to his blatant determination.

  ‘Would you be interested in a dance?’ he said, glancing towards a dozen or so couples who were already dancing. I heard a few nearby girls gasp with what I was fairly certain was envy and almost rolled my eyes.

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t dance.’

  He was almost as surprised by the decline as the girls panting behind him were. I held back a smile. Most annoyingly, he still didn’t go away. He actually moved in closer to speak in my ear. ‘You have absolutely no interest in me, do you?’

  I stepped back. ‘Should I apologise?’

  He laughed. It was a nice sound and made me think I might’ve been able to like him. Slightly. When a waiter passed by, he reached out to take a glass of champagne. The expensive stuff. A tall blonde wearing a sunflower-yellow dress swept by, brushing against Sebastian’s shoulder, and I noted he glanced down to register their Phera-rating on his M-Band. His eyebrows lifted in response before he looked back at me.

  He put out his hand again. I took it, hoping this might encourage his goodbye.

  ‘Never apologise.’ He smiled and leaned in. This time it didn’t seem so awkward. ‘No wonder my little brother seems so smitten. Goodnight, Maggie,’ he said. I’d never given him my name and he delivered a wink before simply sauntering away. No surprises he bee-lined for the blonde in yellow.

  I helped myself to another spoonful of chocolate while replaying the conversation. The biggest question was, had Quentin been a part of the set-up to see if I would fall all over Sebastian Mercer because I was just a power-hungry Barbie like every other girl in that place, or had he not known about it at all?

  Either way, I had to admit that I admired his big brother for looking out for him.

  I was contemplating whether Sebastian had ever pulled a similar stunt with Ivy, and imagining exactly how that would’ve turned out, when Quentin reappeared at my side. Sometimes he was impressively stealthy.

  ‘I see you found the jackpot.’

  I dug in to scrape out the last spoonful and held it out for him cheekily.

  He beamed, leaning forwards and smoothly cleaning the spoon. ‘Never dare a Mercer, Maggie.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

  ‘And so you should, it is good advice,’ added a new voice.

  I turned, surprised to see Eliza Mercer standing right behind me.

  ‘Mrs Mercer,’ I said.

  Instead of taking the hand I offered, she kissed me on each cheek. ‘Please, everyone calls me Eliza, Maggie. Quentin has been very intent on keeping you hidden away from us. It is so nice to finally meet you, and in such a divine and daring dress. I love it.’

  I wasn’t exactly sure that was true, but I plastered a smile on my face. ‘I think black is mostly the boring option these days.’

  Eliza gave the dress another look over, smiling not unkindly, but knowingly. ‘Perhaps, but wearing a black wedding dress to a ball is certainly taking a risk.’

  My throat closed in. ‘Wedding dress?’

  ‘Yes, dear. That’s a signature vintage Vera Wang. One that very few people are able to do such justice.’

  The air had become so thick, my chest heaved for breath. Perfect. Mia had asked me if I was brave, but this … I wasn’t equipped for this shit.

  And yet, I had to be. Tonight was too important. So what if I’d chosen a wedding dress? It was black for chrissake! Oh, hell. Even I’d heard of the world-renowned designer and I lived under a fashion rock. I hadn’t even bothered to look at the labels, and when Mia had brought it out to me I’d thought she’d referred to it as ‘Avira’ not ‘A Vera’ as in: The. Vera. Wang.

  Seconds were ticking by and I needed to say something. I straightened and glanced pointedly around the room – it looked like a fluorescent material shop had exploded in it.

  ‘Well, then,’ I said, giving my full attention back to Eliza, noting that her admittedly stunning azure dress looked like it had become lost on its way to a fairy ball. ‘I guess wedding dresses are now the more understated fashion,’ I said, glancing around the colourful room.

  ‘But still the most memorable,’ Quentin said, placing a gentle hand on the small of my back and serving a piercing look in his mother’s direction. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Mother?’

  Eliza’s growing smile seemed curious and yet genuine as she glanced between Quentin and me. But her response was drowned out by the siren-like sounds coming from the centre of the room. Everyone’s attention shot towards the sound.

  Guests were stepping back, removing themselves from the source, and our view cleared to a young pregnant woman who appeared to be in shock backing away from a man.

  The man, not much older than her, mirrored her expression.

  The atmosphere in the room was palpable, as if not one person dared to breathe.

  The man took a small step towards her, but she held up a trembling hand, just as another man rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms possessively, one hand on her swollen belly.

  The guests attempted some pretence of looking away and restarting their conversations, but it was clear everyone’s attention was focused solely on this odd event.

  Everyone knew what an M-Band siren alert meant and how incredibly rare it was. Adjusting the factory settings was one of the first things people did when they received their Phera-tech, resetting the standard beeps so that if they ever crossed paths with their true match an alarm would sound.

  And fuel to the fire … the woman was heavily pregnant. I could already hear the word ‘scandalous’ being whispered.

  The man holding the woman, who I presumed was her husband and the father of her unborn child, ushered her across the hallway and into an adjacent room. But it was the look of growing intent coming off the other man that had my full attention. He was standing stock still, watching the woman being dragged away.

  As I watched, Garrett Mercer appeared by the man’s side, saying something in his ear and then escorting him in the opposite direction.

  ‘Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that happen before,’ Quentin said.

  Eliza nodded. ‘Garrett will settle them down for now.’ She watched as her husband disappeared with the mystery man.

  ‘Who is he?’ Quentin asked.

  ‘If memory serves me correctly, he’s an M-Corp representative from our New York offices. He’s here in place of the Head of Operations who was unable to attend at the last minute.’

  ‘I wonder what the guy is going to do,’ Quentin said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  Eliza spoke first. ‘They’re a true match, Maggie. The very positioning defines their relationship to one another as finite. To put that person above all else. To be with that person at any cost. It is irrefutable.’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ I replied. ‘Nothing is finite, and everything is refutable.’

  ‘Are you really so sure about that?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow and giving me a smile that felt eerily knowing.

  ‘Are you really so sure that if a couple doesn’t receive a Phera-tech true match rating then they are not capable of feeling that depth of love and devotion to each other?’

  It probably wasn’t advisable to have this discussion, but it was already too late.


  ‘Certainly not. It’s just not a guarantee.’ Her smile ended the conversation and she turned her attention to Quentin. ‘That’s going to be the talk of the town for months to come.’ She handed him a napkin. ‘Just as well, since otherwise all they would’ve had to talk about is you,’ her eyes briefly flashed in my direction, ‘… indulging your sweet tooth.’

  ‘Well, I’d hate for a spoonful of chocolate to irreparably harm the Mercer reputation,’ he answered dryly.

  ‘I’ll take that as my cue.’ Eliza turned to me, kissing me on each cheek again. ‘My son must think very highly of you,’ she said, dropping her voice so only I could hear.

  I followed her eyes to my M-Band. She thought it was a sign of commitment that we both currently had our Phera-tech off at such a social event.

  ‘Quin, be a darling and save me a dance,’ she said, giving his arm a squeeze. ‘And please do what your father asks. I’m sure Maggie will understand the responsibilities that come with your family name.’

  Quentin nodded. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  She smiled as if the concession meant it all. ‘Thank you.’

  She took a step before pausing to glance at me one more time. ‘Your family name is Stevens?’

  I swallowed, suddenly sure she knew it hadn’t always been. Did she know my father was a neg? Did she know where he was?

  ‘That’s right,’ I said, holding her gaze.

  She nodded once, but unsaid words remained in her expression.

  I watched her glide away as people tried to get her attention. She acknowledged everyone in some way or another. She seemed kind, motherly and well liked, but she was undoubtedly strong and there was another side to her, I was sure of it. She was a Mercer. She couldn’t have stayed for as long as she had by Garrett Mercer’s side and not known what really went on. But the fact she played her part so convincingly was an unnerving reminder I was now mixing in a new league.

  Nineteen

  Using the distraction, Quentin ushered me away from the crowds and, with a nod to the security guard, guided me upstairs. His hand stayed on my lower back, steering me as we moved down a long corridor lined with dark mahogany doors.

  ‘Your mom seems nice,’ I said.

  ‘You sound surprised.’

  ‘I am. I mean, I expected her to be different.’

  ‘What? Wicked witch kind of stuff?’

  ‘With lots of power and money,’ I added with a shrug. ‘No offence.’

  He nodded sadly. ‘Mom is … In some ways she is what makes this whole thing so hard to accept,’ he said, looking away briefly to hide the emotion I could hear in his voice. I gave him his moment.

  At the end of the hall, Quentin paused briefly to look over his shoulder before he opened the double doors, swiftly ushering me in.

  ‘Does he always leave it unlocked?’ I asked the moment he closed the doors. It seemed sloppy.

  Quentin turned on the light. ‘We don’t often have people here and Mom has a thing about locked doors.’ Maybe because she knew enough to know whatever happens behind them is usually not good.

  I glanced to the right of the large office space and noted a door.

  ‘Panic room,’ Quentin said instantly, reading my thoughts.

  I looked to the left, spotting another door.

  ‘Bathroom. Only one door in and out,’ he pre-empted.

  From over my shoulder I gave him a dry smile, which he returned.

  Wasting no time, I jumped behind the gigantic desk – honestly, it was the size of a car. ‘Any booby traps you know of?’ I asked.

  ‘No. But then again, it turns out I don’t know much about my father, or what he does.’ He came to stand beside me, so close his shoulder touched mine and he leaned over me and began typing on the keyboard. ‘This password is the only one I have. I’ve seen him use the same one so it should open everything you need.’

  ‘Only one way to find out, I suppose,’ I said, once again embracing my ‘chance favours the bold’ approach. I pulled out my phone, dialling Gus.

  ‘Just so you know,’ Gus answered. ‘I seriously considered getting in my car and disappearing this afternoon so I would never have to see your face again.’

  I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me. ‘You say the sweetest things, Gus. But you know just as well as I do, thanks to the M-Chip, no amount of distance could keep us apart if the right people were looking for you.’ As in the police, if I handed over the evidence I had on him.

  ‘Hence why I stayed by my phone waiting for your call, even as I hoped you fell into a deep dark abyss.’

  ‘Jesus, Gus. Is it that time of the month?’

  I heard him snort sarcastically. ‘I really wish you were only a once-a-month occurrence.’

  I waited.

  ‘I take it you’re at the computer,’ he said eventually, accepting his role.

  ‘Bingo,’ I replied.

  ‘Plug in the transmitter. Only sixty seconds on this one, Maggie.’ It was a warning and, though I could’ve pushed him, I knew he was right.

  ‘Sixty seconds,’ I repeated, plugging it in. ‘Starting now.’ I started a timer.

  I could hear Gus typing away on his end, trying to drain as much as he could through the transmitter. I kept my eyes glued to the screen as different documents and images flashed by. Then, causing both Quentin – who’d been watching over my shoulder – and me to gasp, we watched as blueprint plans started spilling onto the screen, the small print in the bottom corner saying M-Corp Headquarters, then a number of documents, entitled in bold red print: ‘Food Resources at Critical’. And finally, before Gus shut it all down, one that we only glimpsed, but saw enough – ‘Population Control Solutions Successful’.

  ‘Pull it, Maggie,’ Gus said. ‘Christ, Maggie!’ he yelled. ‘Pull it now!’

  I did, even as I felt the confusion at what we’d just seen.

  ‘Maggie,’ Gus said, his voice low. ‘Listen to me very carefully. That computer was a full access. If anyone finds out you … You need to get out of there now. Leave, go home, go anywhere, just get the fuck out of there.’ After a brief pause, he added, ‘And don’t call me again tonight.’ Then he hung up.

  It wasn’t like it should be a huge surprise. Garrett Mercer was the Head of M-Corp, of course his computer would have full access. But Gus and I were so used to only finding dead-ends rather than real intel that I think we’d both presumed the same would happen tonight.

  ‘Maggie?’ Quentin whispered from behind me. I was still frozen, the transmitter wrapped in my hand.

  ‘Tell me what that was?’ His voice was shaking. Probably because it didn’t take a genius to work out population control was most likely a bad thing. I was on autopilot, Gus’s words replaying in my mind, and I started to put everything back where it had been, closing the computer down carefully, ensuring I didn’t leave a trace. Just as I was finishing, Quentin grabbed my arm and pulled me back from the desk.

  ‘Maggie, talk to me.’

  I shook my head. I didn’t know the answers, or where to start with my crazy suspicions. There were too many things running through my mind. Possibilities that I’d never …

  ‘Maggie, what’s wrong? You’re so pale,’ he whispered, his hand coming up to the side of my face.

  My eyes went to his and I could see his concern, see that he cared and it only made everything worse.

  Quentin glanced down and air hissed in through his teeth. ‘Oh, Christ, you should’ve told me,’ he accused, prompting me to look down and see the blood that had started to seep through my dress’s dark grey bodice.

  I looked back into his eyes and felt my world begin to swim. I was not a normal person. Nothing I did was simple. Nothing was easy. Nothing was particularly kind. But it had all been for a reason, all the sacrifices for something good. I had to keep believing it would all be okay in the end.

  Quentin kept studying me, his hand still on my face. Time seemed to slow down around me, so many thoughts washing through my mind in a matter o
f seconds. For some reason the oddest thought was the one that I verbalised.

  ‘Did you love Ivy? I mean, did you think you two would be a good match?’

  He shook his head. ‘Why are you asking me that? We need to get you out of here before someone sees this.’ He gestured to my dress. It actually wasn’t that bad, the red wasn’t that visible from a distance on the dark grey.

  ‘I can’t feel it anyway,’ I said.

  ‘Why?’

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. ‘Everything is numb.’

  His hand moved around my neck, his fingers into my hair, making it clear to me that everything was in fact not numb.

  ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘I never loved Ivy. I thought we’d match okay, but nothing amazing. What about you and Gus?’

  His question made me blink. ‘What about me and Gus?’

  Quentin shrugged, keeping his hand on me, moving his fingers slowly, brushing loose strands of hair back from my face. ‘I’ve seen the way you two can be around each other. Things get pretty intense. I guess I just assumed there was a history … Or a present.’

  I would’ve cracked up laughing if I wasn’t feeling so hollowed. ‘I’m blackmailing him.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m. Blackmailing. Gus. He does what I ask him to because if he doesn’t I’ll turn over what I have on him and he’ll go down – for a very long time.’

  ‘But he’s your friend.’

  I shook my head and took a step back from his touch. ‘Haven’t you worked it out yet, Quin? I don’t have friends. I don’t have anyone.’ I turned to head for the door, but Quentin was faster. He took one large step and spun me back, into his arms.

  His hand slid behind my neck and, just before his lips touched mine, he whispered, ‘You have me.’ He kissed me with a knowledge that would suggest our lips were not meeting for the first time, or at very least, were meant for one another.

  My mind turned inside out, not knowing how to deal with this kind of overload and choosing instead to shut down completely. My hands went to his shoulders, somehow pulling him closer with my fingers while pushing him away with the heels of my palms. I could feel the tightness in his body, even in his face, as if he was holding back too. Afraid to let go.