CHAPTER TWO
ANTHONY
Many years ago, when I was a younger man full of arrogance and pride, my father told me that I had the world at my fingertips.
Born into a exclusive group of wealthy men, a group known only as The Society, I was promised I would want for nothing, that I would hold power rarely known to most men, that women would crawl on hands and knees just to serve me.
I didn’t understand my father when I was young, didn’t recognize who he was among his friends, and who my mother had been.
With age and maturity came that understanding.
And with that understanding came the recognition of darkness inside me. The sadist. The hunger and need for the very things I’d been promised.
Sometimes, however, despite knowing what you are born to become, life gets in the way, tragedy befalls you, and you are left an empty shell of what you once were, simply struggling to survive.
Despite that struggle, I still wear the mask of the Master I once was, and I still attempt to carry out the life I should have lived.
Sitting in a room with Aiden Oliver, a friend and colleague I admired, I donned that mask while making idle conversation.
I wasn’t sure that even Aiden, a man who’d known me for ten years, could see how dead I felt inside.
“Have you heard from Holland lately?” I asked, a simple question intended to deceive the people in the room into believing I cared.
My interest in Holland, an apprentice Master in the Society, was never much…that was until he abducted a psychologist for the purpose of breaking her down and reshaping her as a courtesan. I had to hand it to the kid: he had balls to attempt such a feat. With a little assistance from Aiden and myself, he was able to indoctrinate the psychologist, Claire, into the lifestyle, but there was still a chance she’d eventually take action to stop us.
Taking a sip of my wine, I swished the liquid in my mouth, despite the moisture it stole from my tongue. Bitter, yet with the hint of sweetness, reds were my favorite above all.
Aiden laughed and cast an observant glance at his courtesan, Rebecca. The way he looked at her made it clear he could see right through her, and I truly believed that, at times, she could see through him just the same.
“Just last week, actually. He and Claire are in some third world country learning about culture or some ridiculous thing like that.”
Chuckling to myself, I imagined Holland kept Claire moving around just so she didn’t have enough time to come to her senses. She’d been a fine courtesan for the few days that I’d known her, but there would always be a spark of concern behind her eyes, an awareness that she’d been deceived and subverted into a lifestyle she always swore she could avoid. Holland had no choice but to keep Claire moving. He had too much riding on the line.
The stem of my wineglass clinked softly against the table where I placed it down, the light in the room catching the crystal in such a way that it was scattered across the surface of the wood, a spectrum of lustrous color.
“Is he still afraid to bring her back? I highly doubt she'll turn him in. That woman was in love. The truth of her feelings was very much on display when he met up with us in Paris. The moment she realized it was his lips that kissed her...” I shook my head, laughing to myself to remember what I'd seen on that security camera.
We’d set up an elaborate ruse to bring Claire into control, a ruse that wasn’t always necessary when we took on the task of transforming a woman into a passionate slave. But Claire had been difficult from the start.
Scowling with feigned disgust, Aiden spoke with rancor in his tone. “I won't let him take the chance. The boy couldn't train a dog, much less a courtesan. Claire is a loose trigger. I'm not willing to bet my life on her ability to stay in love.”
I smiled, knowing full well that, beneath the blank mask void of emotion or concern, Aiden was proud of Holland. The boy he'd mentored would never be a full-fledged Master, but he'd played Aiden’s game well enough that Aiden had been able to give Rebecca the greatest gift of all... revenge.
Holland’s father had abused Rebecca both physically and emotionally for years before Aiden had the fortune of abducting her and training her to be a courtesan. However, Aiden and Holland both hated the man, and they’d worked together to give Rebecca the opportunity to take her revenge. She’d done so with a gun to the man’s head, never hesitating to pull the trigger for what he’d done.
“May I speak, Master?” Beautifully trained by a man and Master that I admired and respected, Rebecca's gaze remained to the ground while she awaited Aiden's response.
“Of course, Pet.”
Her ruby lips twisted with a hidden smirk, forcing me to hide my amused reaction to her expression. So rebellious, she knew just how to play her Master.
Her blue eyes lifted, her blond hair drifting down her back like a soft waterfall. “I think Claire won't say a word. Holland might not be the most aggressive, but his heart belongs to her and she knows that. She would never betray his heart.”
Chuckling, Aiden reached over to pat Rebecca's head as an adult would a child, the alcohol running through his veins loosening him up just a bit in the company of his oldest friend and courtesan. “You look at the world through rose-colored glasses, Pet.”
“She looks at the world with love,” I corrected.
Aiden scoffed and I grinned, knowing full well that he would never shed the tight rein he held over himself when it came to being a Master. With a demeanor colder than any man I'd known, his heart was showing signs of the life I knew existed inside him. Aiden would never break down and admit the truth, but as a trained Master, and as his friend, I could see it in the spark of his eye.
“We are different sides of the same person, Aiden. Both strict in our demands, but different in the way we go about achieving the end result. I understand your concern, but on this topic I must agree with your pet. By revealing the Society, Claire would have to destroy the man she loves and thus, her own heart. There is much to be said for what a woman will do to protect the things she holds most dear - even if it means she remains silent on an issue she believes is wrong.”
My words slurred slightly, the subtle notes of my accent becoming stronger as the evening hours wore on. It was a sign that the night was coming to an end for me, a hint that with another drink or another hour, I'd be speaking in my mother's native tongue.
“I'm tired, Aiden. I think it's time for me to go back to my hotel. I have an early flight home tomorrow morning.”
Rebecca pouted before bowing her head and training her eyes to the floor. Aiden nodded in understanding, reaching out to take my hand and bid me a safe trip home. “Until next time, Anthony. As always, it's been a pleasure having you here. I hope we'll see each other again soon.”
“Any time my company is desired, you are more than welcome to call.” Standing up from my seat, I brushed the wrinkles out of my slacks and walked with Aiden to the front door. The elaborate and opulent foyer was dazzling against the darkened front windows, the reflection of the interior light beautiful against the beveled glass.
Aiden's hand landed heavily on my shoulder as he graced me with a rare smile. “You should find yourself another courtesan, Anthony. Too much time alone isn’t recommended for men like you. It makes things that much harder on the next woman you train.”
Breathing out a heavy breath, I shook off the memories that always returned when the thought of training a woman entered my head. “Beyond my favor to you and Holland with Claire, I haven't trained a woman since Elise. Her death...”
“Was not your fault,” Aiden interrupted. “She chose her course. You did everything in your power to save her. Some women are not suitable for being a courtesan. Elise, while beautiful, was never strong enough to accept her fate.”
Although his words were true, wisdom spoken by a man who knew the courtesans as well as I did, I still carried the blame for Elise's death. She'd been a magnificent woman - beautiful beyond compare and possessing the soft spirit of an angel born on Earth. However, Aiden wasn't wrong in his judgment of Elise's strength. She hadn't been right as a courtesan because she was never able to relinquish control. She was a lost cause even before she'd been procured and brought to the island where I lived.
“Your words have never been more accurate, old friend.” With a single nod, I said goodbye and walked out into the cold night to climb in the backseat of the waiting car. Two taps against the privacy glass and my driver knew it was time to leave.
Aiden's estate sped past my window, the thick iron of his front gates creaking to part and release us out into the countryside. Cracking the window open, I allowed the chilled wind to disperse the suffocating silence inside the car, my eyes watching as the dark shadows of the forest-lined road became a memory in the distance.
In an hour's time, the city came into view, lights twinkling from the buildings announcing the awakened minds of people I would never know.
Being a Master was a lonely life, never fully loving or being loved; always separate from the world even when sandwiched inside a crowd. The secrets I carried were a heavy curtain between society and me. They were sheer enough for people to see what I wanted them to see, but would never allow them to know the man that I truly was.
Blue lights flashed ahead, followed by red - a warning that the drawbridge would rise. The car slowed and eventually stopped, allowing my eyes to catch sight of a memory.
A white nightgown blowing in a soft breeze, a round belly being cradled by the hands of a beautiful and passionate woman. She looked at me with desolate sadness in her weary eyes, her mahogany hair falling in waves down her back. Tears streamed her sculpted face; a decision made when her eyes flashed with pain one last time.
The scene became real, a flash of white cloth in the distance, drawing my eye to the cliff that stood several feet from the car. Pulled from my thoughts of the past, I was returned to the present, my mind finally understanding what I was seeing.
A woman stood on the shadowed cliff, her robe dancing around her legs, blown by the breeze coming off the water. Understanding slammed into me.
“Brent,” I tapped on the privacy glass and called out for my driver. The dark partition lowered, the brim of his hat coming into view within the shadowed interior.
“Yes, Mr. Bernal?”
“Pull the car over immediately.”
With a calm tone, he responded, “Sir, we're in the middle of the road, there is no where I can...”
“Do as I say.” I demanded. There was no time to argue and I opened the door to the car.