by Lily White
I am a creature of the dark. It soothes me. Changes me. Strips away the character I play to reveal the truth of who I am inside. It allows me to devolve, allows me to shed the skin of refinement. Allows me to gather my strength for the formidable stability required to tear another soul apart.
I’ve wondered if people weren’t so afraid of that which they can’t see, would they be less inclined to so easily buckle and break in the hands of a man such as me? Would they accept me as their savior when their world falls apart? Would they refuse the pleasure I provide as their balm.
Perhaps.
Or perhaps not.
The way I saw it, I had the rest of my life to find out.
As I pulled on a blue dress shirt, my gaze fixed on a woman still sleeping peacefully, I fastened the front buttons knowing the first night of the rest of my life would begin in a few hours.
After helping Rebecca with a long bath and tucking her beneath the covers, I’d spent the late evening hours investigating solutions to the three problems that faced me.
I pondered them now, as well, while crossing the ends of my tie, folding one beneath the other, pulling it free, my hands loose over the fibers, the expertly tied knot shifting beneath my fingers.
Everything I wear is a tool of both deception and functionality. I’m never without, never caught off guard without some method or manner of controlling another. Only due to my first perceived problem had I gone soft. Forgotten myself. Become complacent.
A mistake I planned to remedy soon.
In the late hours, I’d decided the first problem I had to face, namely Rebecca’s demand for freedom, was inconsequential. I’d proven that already, her body and mind melting into a malleable concoction at the moment I reminded her we are two sides of the same coin. I provide her freedom in other ways, spoil her with a lifestyle that is uncommon, stroke those parts of her she’d refused to acknowledge in the eyes of polite society.
In turn, she provides with me a challenge that never sees its end. She’s a complication without the proper solution, a puzzle with missing pieces that I’ll spend years searching for. She is, in all respects, another person who doesn’t fear the dark. Instead she happily walks at my side, her eyes wide and as fascinated as mine, having adjusted to the lack of light.
In short, Rebecca wasn’t a problem, so I struck the issue from my mental list.
The second problem, however, could not be so easily cast away. He lived in my house, was breathing my oxygen, was running wanton eyes over a woman who, in every way, was mine. Christopher, or Greyson as I now knew to call him, was another puzzle, but unlike Rebecca, he would fail to scatter his pieces as expertly as she had. His deception wasn’t of the mind, or the body, it was in lies.
I was fond of lies, had spent a lifetime cultivating them. And I’ve learned through the years that lies leave a trail to be followed. One need only discover the original lie to find the web built around it.
Greyson didn’t care much to forgo his behavior. Within one night of being around Rebecca he was the perfect plaything, ready and willing to see to her every desire. He was sly about it, too. So sly, that even I hadn’t seen the character he’d played until days later.
He’d arrived as the broken and feral toy, the dog that had been so horribly abused it wouldn’t accept food from the hand of a kind stranger. He’d gone as far as striking out at her when dunking her head beneath water. He made us believe he was dangerous. And who doesn’t love to think they are special enough to be the one who can get through to such a person?
It’s classic psychology for people, fixers mainly, those women - and also men - who see a person for their potential rather than the face they are being shown. Greyson played that role well, but flipped the script just a little too early. But that wasn’t the main lie.
No. That lie he’d kept between the two of them. A secret. An olive branch. A white flag waving that was to remain between friends.
His name was his lie, and wasn’t that interesting? Names are an easy path to walk down. I simply needed to discover who had also heard this name and could reveal to me the true face of its bearer.
Slipping on my shoes, I took one last look at Rebecca. She would wake before long, would shower and dry her hair, would apply makeup and get dressed and then she would kneel by the door awaiting my arrival. It’s a routine we’d lived for five years, one that, until recently, hadn’t been altered. I wouldn’t be there this morning. Wouldn’t open the door. Wouldn’t gaze down at a woman who had trained me as thoroughly as I’d trained her.
She was a Master now.
She wanted her freedom.
It was my job to show her what freedom would mean.
What better way than to show her what it meant to miss me?
I found Anthony in kitchen after leaving my bedroom. As usual he was impeccably dressed. His dark hair was styled to sweep back from his face. His white shirt was without wrinkles and unbuttoned at the collar to reveal a triangle of naturally tan skin. In one hand, a steaming mug of coffee was set on the surface of the table, in another a newspaper was opened to the business section so he could check on his stocks.
Despite having retired, money was still one of his foremost concerns, but then amassing wealth has always been an addiction to men such as us.
“Good morning.”
He glanced up, shrewd amber eyes assessing me. “You look like you slept well.”
“Not a wink actually,” I grinned, crossing the room with a steady stride to pour coffee for myself. “I had a lot to think about.”
“And here I thought you’d be hung over. You were a mess last night. Did you finish all the scotch?”
“I was distracted from the bottle by Rebecca.”
That got his attention. Carefully folding the paper into place, Anthony’s methodical movements made it appear as if the topic were no more important than a discussion about the weather. I canted my head to watch him set the paper aside, to take a sip from his mug and carefully set the mug back on the table precisely where it had been originally. “How is she doing? Was there a problem?”
Allowing the question to hang between us, I stared across the room at an old friend. I knew he cared for Rebecca. But he was just that type of man. The opposite of me, Anthony’s style was more manipulative, less open. He seduced through emotion, snuck in when you least expected him, allowed other people to play monster while he swept up the pieces. He wasn’t in your face like I was, and I often teased him for it. But I couldn’t disregard him for the soft approach. At times, it was far more practical than mine.
That’s why I couldn’t assume his interest in Rebecca’s well-being was all show. Anthony had hinted to both of us his desire that we leave this life, his hope that Rebecca would be the woman to force me to admit love.
“She’s fine. Apparently she couldn’t let Christopher touch her after he played good pet and sucked your cock. It’s difficult for her to separate sex and emotion.”
Sliding a chair from the table, I sat opposite him and sipped from my mug, the bitterness of the coffee matching my mood that morning. His deep tenor voice filtered into the chaos of my thoughts.
“I already knew that would be a problem and suggested it to you last night. She wanted him to fight. He didn’t.”
My lips thinned. “He’s up to something. Apparently Christopher isn’t his name. It’s Greyson.”
Lifting my gaze at the exact moment I spoke the actual name of Rebecca’s Pet, I noted Anthony’s reaction. His shoulders stiffened a touch, his brows tugging together. I couldn’t tell whether he’d known the truth or not. But then, Anthony played a character just like me. He’d had years to perfect his ability to conceal truth.
“Did you know his real name?”
“Why would I?”
“You’ve been watching over her when she’s with him. I thought perhaps you’d heard her use the name without realizing you could hear.”
A change of direction, Anthony drove us down another line of thinki
ng with his own inquiry. “Why did she tell you he had another name?”
“I don’t think she knows she let it slip. I’d just surprised her with something I said, knocked her off balance. Rather than asking her about the name, I remained quiet. It’s better the asshole doesn’t know I know. But it worries me for Rebecca. I need you to continue keeping an eye on them. She knows he’s up to something and she’ll continue playing Master, but I don’t believe Rebecca will let him touch her.”
Anthony laughed. “I’m not taking another blowjob from him. My part in her training is over.”
My mouth kicked up at the corner. “I wasn’t expecting that of you. But I would like you to continue monitoring. I’d do it myself, but I have my own tasks to deal with. I need to ask around about him. See what I can dig up. And I need to deal with Sarah.”
Sarah Clarkson also known as problem number three. Of all my issues, she was the most pressing. A socialite who apparently surrounded herself with company at all times, Sarah was working my last nerve with the constant demand of money to keep Adam’s secret. Unfortunately, she was also opaque in what she knew, careful not to reveal too much in her dealings with Paul. While most people would brag of the knowledge they held in order to prove they could inflict damage, Sarah kept her cards to her chest.
There was a chance she knew who I was, but also a chance she didn’t. I hoped for the latter. Adam and I were never friends, and beyond meetings held by the Society, we had very little to do with one another. I’d also been inactive as a Master for the past year due to Rebecca. It gave Adam little reason to mention me in conversations he may have had with Sarah.
Hopeful the secrecy of my identity was the case, I had every intention of introducing myself to the socialite, not just in name but in practice. She was toying with my security, my money and my freedom, and for that there would be no forgiveness.
Sarah wanted to pretend she was brave enough to play with the Society and I was only too happy to introduce her to one of its finest Masters.
Fortunately for me, problem number two had a history with problem number three, and I planned to use that history to my advantage.
An exasperated sigh caught my attention, Anthony waiting patiently for me to explain. When I didn’t, he prodded me along with observant eyes and a loaded question. “What do you plan to do to her, Aiden?”
Blinking as if surprised, I sipped my coffee keeping my eyes locked to his over the rim of the mug. It gave me the few seconds I needed to consider my response. “I plan to bring her home.”
His expression darkened, mouth taut, nostrils flaring just enough for me to know he didn’t approve of my plan. “You already have someone occupying the dark room -“
“And he’s ready to graduate, don’t you think?” Shrugging a shoulder, I wasn’t surprised Anthony hated the idea of stealing Sarah away and introducing her to a world she took far too much interest in. He wanted me to follow his lead, leave this life, give Rebecca what he and I both knew she’d wanted. She’d said as much to me last night when she claimed she’d be able to change my mind.
I’m a stubborn man. Obstinate. Like a damn mule that refuses to budge and it would be a cold day in Hell when I’d have my hand forced through teamwork.
Without realizing it, Anthony had just given me what I needed to understand the game he, too, was playing. “Are you working with her, Old Friend? Did you two really believe you could force the choice on me to give it all up?”
Relaxing against his seat, Anthony kept his eyes trained on his coffee mug, his hands idly spinning it slowly over the surface of the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Of course he did. And I had every intention of forcing the admission. “Since her Courtesan’s arrival, you’ve been digging your claws into this mess. Baiting me with suggestions that my feelings should play a part in my actions. I have no doubt you’ve been conferring with Rebecca on the sidelines, allowing her to believe there was the slightest chance she could change my mind.”
Amber eyes glimmered. “I’ve been trying to convince you to retire for the past year. I’ll admit it. But how was I to know Rebecca being allowed to train her own Courtesan would put you in a tight spot?”
“Don’t toy with me, Anthony. Or attempt games. It’s beneath you. That’s why you jumped at the chance to bring Greyson here. You were hoping she’d earn her freedom by being titled a Master. Well, you got what you wanted; she asked for that very thing last night.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“I did.”
His fingers drummed over the surface of the table, four slow, hard thumps. “Will you really give it to her when the time comes?”
Shaking my head, I refused to answer. If they were working together and comparing notes, I didn’t want him taking the information straight to her. Rebecca would make the choice to stay regardless of what I did with my life. Of that I was sure. Deflecting, I asked, “Paul mentioned you were friends with Jake Gillian a few days ago when he visited. How well did you know the older Master?”
Discovering who Greyson was and the game he was playing was still foremost in my thoughts, and to follow that trail to gain the information I needed, I had to go back to the source from where he’d come. Unfortunately with both Adam and Jake dead, I could only rely on those in our group who’d known them.
“Not well. We exchanged pleasantries at get-togethers, discussed training methods -“
“Had you ever visited him at his house? Specifically in the years his health was declining?”
Eyeing me with intent, Anthony answered, “I did, once or twice. We shared a few drinks and maybe spent a few hours discussing random subjects, but nothing regarding his Courtesans.”
He wasn’t lying. I knew him well enough to know that. Anthony wasn’t the type to blatantly give false information, but he was the type to skirt around the edges. It’s what made him so good at his game. There was no reason not to trust him.
“Did you ever meet any of his Courtesans?”
He shook his head. “No. Not once.”
Satisfied with his response, I inclined my head. “I’ll have to talk to Paul again. See if he can locate the third woman Jake kept. The other two were in the dark when it came to him, but the third may have known more. There’s always the preferred Pet. They usually have a better idea of what goes on in the home.”
The click of Rebecca’s heels on the marble floors announced her entrance, green eyes meeting mine with a flash of defiance. Checking my watch, I realized she hadn’t kneeled at the door waiting for me. Not enough time had passed. She would play the freedom game to the end. I was fine with it.
Speaking before she had a chance to address Anthony or me, I said, “I think it’s time you bring your Courtesan out of the dark room. You’ll need to present him in the coming weeks.”
She stumbled over her own feet at the suggestion, catching herself immediately to control her gait. Reaching the counter, Rebecca took her time retrieving a mug from the cabinet, her back to me. I took the opportunity to admire her clothes. Wearing a green dress that was fitted at the chest and waist, but flowed like water over her hips down to her knees, she was an image of feminine elegance. Her hair was pinned up in a chignon, loose tendrils falling down to highlight the line of her neck.
It was too bad Anthony was in the room. I would have bent her over the counter and flipped the back of her skirt to her waist if he wasn’t.
“Are you sure he’s ready?” she asked, her voice soft. “Is there any rush to move him along?”
“I need the room for a guest who will be arriving before too long.”
Still unsure of how I’d steal Sarah away, I made a mental note to call Paul and find out her schedule. There had to be a way to access her, to find her alone. If not, I had to hope Adam had never mentioned me only so I could devise a way to seduce her into walking away from a crowd.
Socialites were never the best target. Alarms sounded far too quickly. Their absence noticed wit
hin hours instead of days. The first missing photo of what they are having for dinner on their social media accounts and all their friends started asking questions.
Rebecca turned to look at me, her pretty lips pulled into a thin, unhappy line. “You never keep more than one at a time.”
“Something has come up, and the circumstances call for me to break that particular rule.” She was on the verge of tears, blinking rapidly, a stain of pink blooming across her forehead and cheeks. Did she really believe I’d leave this life? “Plus, Christopher is playing his game well. He won’t risk messing it up with misbehavior.”
Intentionally using his false name, I kept Rebecca in the dark regarding her mistake.
Although I could plainly see how upset she was, I didn’t acknowledge her feelings. “Please have him in another room in the wing by tonight. I’m not sure, but I may bring our new guest home as early as within the next few hours.”
I didn’t give her time to respond before standing from my seat and leaving the room. These two problems needed to be resolved, and the sooner I reminded Rebecca of the man I would always be, the sooner she’d give up her ridiculous plan to change me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
REBECCA
Aiden didn’t bring a woman home that night. Not the next night, or the next. A week had passed since he’d asked me to empty the dark room for his new expected guest, yet every day passed without her arrival. Waiting kept me in a state of perpetual heartache, hope blossoming that he would change his mind while something else whispered the truth that he wouldn’t.
I believed the only reason for his delay had more to do with the difficulty in safely stealing her away without being caught than anything having to do with me.
Meanwhile we kept up appearances. I spent my days training Greyson while managing to keep from having sex with him, while Aiden maintained his distance, no longer watching but still demanding a nightly examination where he could check for any new marks my Courtesan may have left on my body. He never found those marks, and the inspections always led to sex. Sadly, I didn’t mind being held to a nightly routine where I was required to strip down to my skin for him. Sex with Aiden was a relief after long days with a man I knew was pretending to be the perfect pet just so he could play me.