“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming here tonight. My name is Rachel Simpson and three years ago, Adam Archer began blackmailing me in exchange for sex, corporate secrets, and more recently, in exchange for my cooperation in seducing, then later drugging and taking illegal photographs of his ex-fiancée Daphne Laurel.”
There are audible gasps across the room but Rachel isn’t nearly done. “Furthermore, while in his acquaintance, I came across evidence that I was only one of many that Adam Archer was blackmailing. Other victims include—”
And then I watch on from the sidelines like a proud mom as she goes on to list a long number of names, both public and private figures. Many of the names of public figures raise eyebrows, including that of New Olympus’ chief of police.
The camera lights continue blazing, but half the reporters in the room are scribbling notes while others are on the phone, some even leaving the room to make calls.
And I sit back and smile in satisfaction, knowing that finally Adam Archer’s life is about to be blown apart—an experience he’s inflicted on so many others.
Karma is sweet.
Twenty
Logan
The creak of an opening door rouses me from my foggy state. My eyes snap open. I’ve been lying here for I don’t know how long. Long enough for the light in the window to fade. Long enough for the dark to cover me. Long enough to sense when I’m no longer alone.
“Who’s there?” My throat is screaming for water.
“A friend.” A shadow detaches itself from the wall and drifts to the foot of my bed where it solidifies into the shape of a man. Tall and slender, clad in a tailored grey suit. “Relax. I’m here to rescue you.”
Head bowed, he studies my restraints a moment, before reaching in his breast pocket and drawing out a Swiss Army knife. A few short moments and I’m free. My joints creak but I rip out the IV from my arm.
‘Thanks’ is on the tip of my tongue, but I have no idea what’s going on. As far as I know, this man could still be an enemy. A trap.
“Who are you?” I have to squint into the shadows, where he’s retreated.
“My name is Sebastian St. James.” His cultured voice, smooth and deep, winds its way into my ears. He half smiles as he returns to my side and offers me a bottle of water.
“Never heard of you.” But I take the water and gulp it down.
“I’ve taken great care to remain anonymous. I prefer it.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I own this building.”
“Then you’re not a friend.” I drop the water bottle on the floor, wishing my strength was back. If I stand now, I don’t trust myself to remain upright. If I did, I’d wipe the floor with him.
“I assure you, Dr. Wulfe, I am a friend.” He doesn’t back away from my glare, but steeples his fingers. “Allow me to start from the beginning. I own a great many things. An empire, built over many years.”
“You don’t look that old to me,” I grunt. The man facing me with such a lack of fear is smooth-faced. Thirty at the most. Young to bear such an air of gravitas.
“I started young. And I have many friends. It’s easy to amass the things you want when you’re willing to ally yourself with anyone who can help you get them.”
“You made a deal with the devil.”
“Some say that. Some say I am the devil.” His voice holds a note of amusement. “But that has nothing to do with the circumstances right now. Lately I’ve been interested in expanding my interests into the pharmaceutical realm. I acquired research by a brilliant young doctor, a prodigy of the late Dr. Laurel.”
I shake my head. I know where this is going.
“For a while now, I’ve been investigating Adam Archer. We even signed a temporary agreement for him to use my warehouse as a private research facility.”
He spreads his hands to indicate our surroundings. “My own company provides security. Not only to secure the outside of the building, but to monitor the inner workings as well. Imagine my surprise when my secret cameras show a man being held against his will. And not just any man. A former friend, college roommate, and rival of Adam Archer.”
He leans in. “And, if my research is correct, the real prodigy of Dr. Laurel. The one Adam Archer would do anything to destroy.”
“All right,” I say drily. If I wasn’t still feeling weak and woozy, I’d be outta here. Since I need a moment to collect my strength, I’m okay with listening to this stranger’s soliloquy. “You figured it all out. Now what?”
“We seem to have a common enemy. And common goals. I wish to expand my holdings into the pharmaceutical arena. You want the means and ability to continue your research—starting with the cure for Battleman’s. You have the knowledge, I have the labs. If we partner together, we could be behind the medical breakthroughs of this century.”
He lowers his hands, his face taking on a wry expression, as if he’s amused by his own forthrightness. In the middle of his earnest speech, he looked much younger. “But that comes later. Let us address the matter at hand. Revenge.”
“Yes,” I growl, unable to stop myself from showing my hand. St. James’ expression is perfectly blank. But I understand how he could be as powerful as he claims. If he’s able to speak to the heart of the matter, and offer a man exactly what he wants...he could easily rule an empire.
“Anything,” I say, even though I suspect I’ll regret it. “I’ll give you anything to get me out of here and help me bring Adam down.”
“Oh, haven’t you seen?” He turns away to pick up something—a remote—and points it at the wall. A screen comes down from the ceiling. St. James presses a few buttons and the TV flares to life.
“—following accusations of their former CEO’s corporate espionage, insider trading, and sexual assault, Archer Industries stock falls by over thirty percent—”
I watch opened-mouth as Adam Archer is led down a street lined with reporters. Adam himself is flanked by two police officers. His hands are cuffed behind his back.
“What happened?”
“A group of women stepped forward and brought Adam Archer’s sins to light. He’s been removed as CEO, of course, but it seems he’s run from the many charges filed against him. The police are looking for him.”
St. James is studying my face but I can’t tear my gaze from the screen. The reporter is talking over images of the press conference that broke the news of Adam’s deceit. A vaguely familiar blonde woman is speaking. The camera pans and—yes, there’s Daphne in her wheelchair, watching. My brave girl.
“Quite a woman,” St. James murmurs.
I snap my attention from the screen.
He raises his hands. “No need to glare. I understand she’s now your wife.”
“Do they really call you the devil?”
“Yes,” he says simply. “Mostly in New Rome, my city. Not here. In New Olympus there are other, older powers.”
“But you can help me.”
“Oh yes.” And he smiles.
“Well, then. Let’s make a deal.”