“I see.” Benefield flips through the short stack of papers. “An import/export company?”
“Dealing in antiquities.”
“Legitimate? Or…”
“Legitimate and seem to be expanding operations. They’ve seen impressive growth in the past five years.”
“I wonder what kind of antiquities they sell?”
Lucian grins. “Do you want to extend an invitation?”
“Dig a little deeper. See what you can find. I need leverage, and I don’t see it here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is this his first purchase?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jumping into the deep end? Bold move. Suspicious.”
“He does show a predilection.”
“Predilection? How so?”
Lucian extends his hand, requesting the dossier back from Benefield. He quickly flips to someplace in the back half of the document and hands it back.
“He’s been active on several online escort sites; specific requests were made. Two of those resulted in assault charges.”
“A man with money and a record. I like that.”
“No record, sir.”
“Really?”
“All charges were dropped.”
“Dropped? He paid the girls off?”
“It doesn’t look like it. We checked their financials for any large deposits. None were made.”
“How did he get the charges dropped?”
“I assume leverage and a savvy lawyer. His family retains legal services. There are also several ex-girlfriends with similar stories.”
“I’m intrigued. Go on.” Benefield flips through the dossier.
“Same thing, assault charges. All were dropped.”
“Impulse control issues?”
“Aggressive sexual encounters, from the charges filed.”
“I like that even better.” Benefield’s gaze flicks over to me.
My head stays buried in my book. My earbuds are in, but turned off. I bob my head to the beat of silence, leaving Benefield to think I’m engrossed in the book and oblivious to their conversation.
I hang on every word.
He’s far too trusting, which terrifies me. The longer I’m around him, the more dangerous it becomes for me. My life expectancy decreases each and every day because Benefield doesn’t keep liabilities lying around.
“His finances seem in order.” Benefield steeples his fingers beneath his chin and gives me another hard look.
This one I see, as I’m staring at him. I beam a big smile back at him, displaying an affection I do not feel. I’m supposed to be here by choice. Standing by him, because it’s what I choose. A woman who chooses him, rather than a slave forced to serve, gives him immeasurable power.
Again, this is unsustainable. I’m going to make a mistake. Or, he’s going to get tired of me. Or, he’ll wake up one day and decide I know too much. He’ll get rid of me, or kill me. Either way, he’ll ensure there’s nothing I can do to hurt him.
The afternoon wears on. The two of them discuss a dozen potential clients, selecting six in the end to join us for another round of destroying lives.
We join the men for a boisterous dinner, where the slaves-in-training are put through their paces. I sit through that horrible evening with my gut churning and my heart breaking for those girls. All the while, Benefield watches me.
He loves the idea of a woman who might truly sit by his side. Not an equal by any means, but someone worthy of that status. We are cautiously finding our way while I grow more nervous each and every day.
This isn’t sustainable. Benefield thrives on torture. Physical or psychological, it doesn’t matter. He’s toying with me, and my time is running out.
After dinner, he retreats to the Oasis with those slaves who’ve been chosen to be offered to the guests. Tonight, they’ll demonstrate their new skills of seduction on him.
I’m dismissed for that, and his nightly exertions with his slaves continue to keep him out of my bed. I don’t know how much longer that will last either.
Like I suspect, his desire isn’t about sex. Benefield is more interested in parading me around his men, the prisoner who chooses him.
If I had access to a knife, I’d slit my wrists and free myself of this despicable existence.
But I don’t.
As always, Benefield knows my mind better than I do.
Twelve
Max
“Mitzy with her Mitzy Magic comes through again.” I sit with Alpha team going over our plans while ignoring the photo in front of me.
Knox sits next to me. Axel and Griff sit on the opposite side of the table. Liam is by the window, ear to his phone, getting last-minute updates. Wolfe is out fetching the pizza our late-night strategy session demands.
Sam, CJ, and Mitzy join us virtually through the screen. Mitzy’s eyes move constantly, darting from here to there. No doubt, she’s utilizing all four of her massive computer screens. Actually, I need to stop watching her eyes bounce around. It’s making me nauseous.
“I’m sending final files to you now,” she says. “Details on your business in case you get questioned.”
That’s my homework for the evening. I’ll be memorizing five years of fictitious trades in the off chance someone shows too much interest in my business dealings. The likelihood is slim. I can’t imagine that the kind of people at these events share too much about their personal lives, but being over-prepared is being just barely prepared.
I want my shit locked down tight. If there are hoops I have to jump through, I’m going to be laser targeted with perfect execution of my non-savory alias.
“Did you get what I sent about the girls?” Mitzy’s gaze briefly flicks up to the camera, making it appear as if she’s looking directly at me.
“Yes. I’ve already looked at it.”
That was last night’s assignment, learning all the details about the women I’ve abused. Knox helped me out, grilling me as we went over the disgusting information in detail.
I’m a Guardian. Saving others runs in my blood. This Maxwell Sage guy, he’s horrific and makes me want to slug myself.
Acid burns in my throat knowing I’ll have to step into those shoes for an agonizing week. What’s worse is that I’ll be exposed to women who’ve been taken with no way to save them. It goes against everything I believe, but in this, the argument for the greater good prevails.
I will keep that in mind. It’s the only way I’ll make it through.
“Knox, you need to know those too.” Mitzy’s gaze flicks to Knox.
“We went over it together.”
“You don’t need to know everything about the business, but Max’s history with women…”
“I know. I’m the muscle that guards his ass. Don’t worry. We’re on it.” Knox makes the emphasis for my benefit. He knows this doesn’t sit well with me, and he reminds me I won’t be alone. Knox will be by my side the entire time as my personal security detail.
The Retreat allows all guests one bodyguard. What they don’t allow are cellphones, tablets, or computers with recording devices of any kind and access to the internet. That’s okay; we won’t be bringing any of that shit. At least, nothing more than a cellphone, and maybe a laptop, for them to confiscate.