Riley walks in. I want to kick myself, because it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time, and the sight of her knocks the wind out of me. I do my best not to let my jaw hit the floor at this woman’s stunning face. Did I even notice her light brown eyes while she gave me the best head in ages? Probably not, but I pay close attention to them now.

She steps in past the doors and removes the winter jacket and bulky sweater she had on in the video. She’s in skin-fitting jeans that remind me of the way her long legs wrapped around my waist. The tiny white tank top shows off her delicate, porcelain skin, hugging her full, perky breasts the way they filled my hands. Her tiny waist is on display, and already all I want to do is grab a hold of that very spot and fuck her into a coma. My dick agrees with a slight throb as it expands to fill the space behind my zipper. Yes, it’s best to stay seated until this semi goes down.

I wonder if she realizes the position she has put herself into as she stands there looking sexier than the last time she was here at the clubhouse. I can’t help but smile. What we did two nights ago will pale in comparison to what she’s in for today. And tonight. And tomorrow morning. By the time I’m done with Riley, she may not be able to walk right, and hopefully, our mutual problems will be solved.

“Good morning, Miss Hampton,” I greet her. That’s the nicest, kindest, tamest thing she’s going to hear from me for the next thirty or so hours.

“Why am I here?” she answers me with a question framed in a rough, hard-ass tone of voice as if she’s done time. Maybe that’s from her one night in jail.

“So you want to get right down to brass tacks, is that it?”

“Just let me know what the hell you want so I can tell you to go fuck yourself. After that, I’ll be on my way.”

I point to the armchair close to the fireplace. “Have a seat, sexy.”

I get my first insight into the effect I must also have on her. Her breath seems to catch in her throat from my invitation.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stand,” Riley mumbles in a throaty voice that almost reaches into my pants and strokes my dick.

“Suit yourself. And feel free to have a bite of breakfast or coffee, tea, whatever you want. It’s all on the serving table beside your seat.” I lean forward slightly. “Tell me, how did you sleep last night? I hope we didn’t leave you sitting in jail for too long.”

Her expression hardens. She is not the least bit entertained. “I would really like to know how naïve you think I am. You and Alexander Industries, and whoever at the New York City Police Department that’s on your payroll, will have hell to pay for failing to follow due process and denying us our rights. I’m standing in your club or whatever the hell it is, and no one has read us our Miranda rights or taken our prints. They detained us illegally. Do you understand what that means? And your people have not even allowed us to speak to our lawyers. Like I said, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“You’re mistaken, Miss Hampton, but replace the word ‘we’ with ‘me’ in everything you just said, and it’ll be accurate.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Looks around the room. Do you happen to see your friends here with you?”

She stares at me as she processes the last two pieces of information I share. Recognition hits, and her eyes widen. I get the satisfaction of watching her lose her shit. Her jaw drops. “No. You didn’t…you wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and I did.” I point to the armchair again. This time, she takes a seat.

She straightens stoically in the chair. “My friends won’t fall for these games.”

“You haven’t given them much choice so far. I wonder why. Let’s see. Oh, right. You’re out here.”

“What do you think you’ll accomplish by having the other demonstrators believe that I betrayed them and threw them under the bus?”

“I have little concern about your cohorts, Miss Hampton. However, they may have an issue with you after it’s all said and done. You know, you will have kept your record spotless, and still be eligible to sit the bar exam in two years. Them, not so much. And their parents may have a hell of a time coming up with bail money, never mind what they’ll need for sufficient criminal and civil defenses. If your associates graduate at all, they’ll be lucky to flip burgers at the burger shack.”

Her face reddens. “You plan to sue my friends in civil court too?”

“It’s within our rights. You should know that. We can kick things off after they go in front of a judge tomorrow morning.”

“What?” she shrieks. “You’ve already pressed criminal charges?”

I make a point of not giving her a direct answer. “You’re a law student. What do you think? Let’s start with defamation, destruction of private property, attempted assault, forcible confinement, maybe even libel for those signs.”

“But…my friends are innocent.”

“Babies are innocent. Those kids are all past the age of majority.”

“You can’t do that to them.”

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t.”

She squints at me, folding her arms as she does some type of assessment. “What do you want?”

I keep things simple to start. “Tell me about the posters.”

That predatory look from the other night is back on her face, along with a wry smile and a laugh she exaggerates while throwing her head back. She knows.

“It’s amazing the kind of facts one can discover in the tax filings of public companies,” Riley says, locking eyes with me again. “Especially when you have time, and you know what to look for. These types of revelations become even more obvious when the organizations trying to bury pertinent information get arrogant. You know arrogance, right Mr. Alexander? Of course, you do. The thing is, this level of overconfidence lends itself to carelessness, like failing to consider that one arm of Alexander Industries reported an entry on their liabilities, and that number happens to be exactly equal to the total sum of assets minus owner’s equity reported by two massive private energy companies. Do you know what that all means, Mr. Alexander? Let me spell it out for you. Try collusion, fraud, and conspiracy, to name a few.”

There’s nothing Riley has just said that surprises me at all. I’m the one who pointed out the exact same findings months ago to Dustin, my father, the lawyers, and the corporate controller. They all told me the data is circumstantial at best. Only our public relations team sided with me, because they understand a company doesn’t have to be guilty to be raked through the coals in the public eye. And we are guilty in this case, so the circumstantial statement would only make us look worse. I’ve been fighting internally to bring them in line. Divesting the two energy companies is the only real solution, but the board hates letting go of a cash cow. Hence the stalemate.

Riley’s discovery pretty much proves my point. If the media makes the connection because of her little protest, heads will roll.

Riley has actually done me a solid.

She finally reaches over to the breakfast tray and picks up a mini Danish. My guess is that she mistakenly believes she has the upper hand. Taking a breath, I give her a rude awakening just as she takes a sip of black coffee.

“Have you shared this with anyone?”

“Not yet.”

“Miss Riley, I have to ask. Do you realize what you did to undermine your cause by…spending time with me two nights ago?”

She takes her time to swallow the coffee in her mouth. “I’m not following.”

“Let me paint you a picture. A young law student befriends a corporate executive who works for a publicly traded company. She receives some crucial information about the company’s operations. The next day, she intentionally passes on said information to the public, which has an immediate adverse effect on share prices in the public company. The authorities are soft on this law student, and no one understands why. That’s right up until the media begins to believe that the drop in share prices is only a temporary tactic for yet another organization to swoop in and end up with enough of the shares to become a voting member. Except there’s one tiny little issue. This second organization is owned by the corporate executive who provided the law student with the damaging information in the first place.”

A half-smile rises up my face, because although some parts of what I’m telling her is pure bullshit, I’m about to give her exactly what she has just given to me, verbatim.

“Do you know what that all means, Miss Hampton? Let me spell it out for you. Try collusion, fraud, and conspiracy, to name a few. Oh yes, and that bar exam said law student hopes to sit? Not gonna happen.”

She coughs up a bit of coffee. Blood drains from her face and neck. She goes from red to ghostly white.

“What do you want?” she asks again.

This time I can give her my terms. “It’s pretty simple, really. You and your associates will issue a public apology for your actions, and retract all spoken, written, and inferred allegations.”

“Will you drop the charges against my friends?”

“Yes, both criminal and civil. You’ll get that in writing. But I’m not done yet.”

“What else?”

“You will turn over all paper and electronic records pertaining to your findings.”

“Fine.” She finishes her coffee and gets to her feet. There’s some pain in her posture as she rises. “Are those all your terms?”

“Yes and no.”

“Meaning?”

“Those terms relate to what you did to my father’s company yesterday. You also need to make amends for the trying to play me two nights ago.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

I grin. My dick and I agree. Victory has never felt so thrilling.