Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
After the cocktail hour, then dinner, I was invited by Delgado, Chen, Lucas, and another partner named Bart Shaw, who was an investment banking billionaire, for drinks.
They didn’t tell me where so there was no point in looking to my wife for a ‘tell’ about whether the room was a safe sex-free zone or not. This might be their test for Angel.
They had slaves in tow. None of them was a redhead so I guessed the girl who tipped Angel off wasn’t in attendance. We walked down a long hallway on the second floor in an area of the place I hadn’t spent much time in.
“Girls, wait here,” Chen said and then we turned down another hall, leaving them behind.
We stopped in front of a set of double doors. Everyone moved so that Angel and I were in front of a door with a black-taped plaque that overlapped both doors, split in the middle.
There was a beat of silence.
“We’re breaking in a new room tonight, folks. Dario, may I ask your wife a question?” That was Delgado.
“A question?” I asked.
Gan Chen spoke up. “It’s something you won’t disapprove of. I assure you.”
“Go ahead,” I said, but giving Delgado stink eye.
“Mrs. Ferrano, what do you think of this room’s name?” He pulled tape off the bottom to reveal a golden plaque that read the letters AEM and with the years during which she’d been there in a small font.
“What’s this?” I asked.
The eyes of the partners were on my wife.
She stared blankly at the sign.
“This room honors your wife’s contribution to Kruna. What do you think, Mrs. Ferrano?”
“Thank you, Sir,” Angel said softly.
He peeled the rest of the tape off, revealing in script,
David Macleod, esteemed member. 1990-1993.
Macleod Room
Angel stared blankly at the plaque. I stared blankly at it. I had to hide my thoughts, my reaction. I gave Delgado a quizzical look.
He gave me a smirk. Everyone looked at Angel. She looked at me and gave me a smile.
“Shall we?” Delgado opened the door and we all filed in.
Angel was completely composed. I saw Shaw and Lucas exchange looks. Satisfied looks.
We sat.
“Gentlemen?” I inquired.
Someone came over with a tray of drinks. The room was nice. This wasn’t like the Townsend Room. It was less like a library and more like a western saloon theme. Bronze horse statues. Stuffed deer, bears, birds around the room. There was a long bar and the wait staff were dressed in western themed clothing. Girls came in, dressed like 1800s prostitutes.
If they did this to see if they’d get a reaction from her, they were fucking cruel. Name the room after her, list the duration of her captivity, and make the room remind her of her true home.
Not just that, tell her that her father was a member. I didn’t know if that was bullshit or not but suspected it was and if it was bullshit, it was a good play.
Most people wouldn’t hold it together through that. If she didn’t hold it together, she’d have failed a test she shouldn’t know about, a test to give them an idea of whether or not she’d remembered her training and the threats that would’ve been laid out about keeping her mouth shut and staying obedient.
Two more days of this shit and then I could not wait until these motherfuckers were taken out.
“How did you feel about the plaque, Felicia?” Delgado asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Angel replied. “That’s not my life. My life is with my husband.”
I looked at him. “Need you to explain this shit.”
“Her previous identity. We sometimes find that presenting our former assets with this information can be telling, can help us determine whether or not their master should have any concerns about them hanging onto their old life.”
“So, you’re telling me that you weren’t already sure that she was committed to this life and you sold her to me?”
“Uh, no.” Bart Shaw leaned forward. “We can assure you. No asset is transferred unless we are sure.”
“Then this little game was pointless?”
“It almost always is,” Gan Chen said, sitting down with us. “But it doesn’t harm anything to check.”
“I disagree,” I said, sipping my drink. “If we’re planning to transfer more assets in the future, this test could leave a buyer thinking we were unsure.”
“I see your point,” Joseph Lucas sat down. “It’s a practice that should be discontinued.”
“How are you, baby?” I asked Angel.
“I’m good, Dare.”
“That didn’t upset you?” I asked, caressing her cheek.
“No,” she shrugged. “I’m here with you. That’s all that matters to me now.”
“What’s AEM?” I asked.
“Her former initials. Has she told you?” Gan Chen asked.
I shook my head. “Told me?”
“Her birth name.”
I shook my head. “She never told me, no.”
“I’ve heard you call her Angel. That name is close to her birthname.”
“Is it?” I asked.
I looked at Angel. “Is it?”
She nodded. “Yes, Master.”