We test her, the two of us, and sure enough, she’s right. She knows who we are, every single time. She’s also biting her lips back to keep from crying out, and her nails dig into her palms. “Damn it, I need to come,” she pleads, and Sebastian relents. His fingers push into her pussy, and his thumb strums at her clitoris. I kiss her and I feel her moan into my mouth as she climaxes.
It’s Saturday night, and traffic is heavy. We take advantage, making Bailey orgasm two more times, till she finally pushes our hands away. “No more,” she begs. “I’m too sensitive.” She removes the blindfold and rests her head on Sebastian’s shoulder, reaching out to link her fingers in mine. “I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for inviting me.”
She’s sleepy and sated, and as I hold her hand, a rush of affection floods through me. Despite my confrontation with Cyrus, I agree with her. I had a really good time tonight as well.
35
Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Daniel:
On Saturday, I’d dared Cyrus to make his move.
On Monday, he answers.
I check my messages when I wake up and there’s one from Sally in Corporate Affairs, who manages my media presence for me. “CALL ME ASAP,” the subject says, and there’s an attachment.
My heart starts beating faster. Sally isn’t prone to outbursts of drama. I get out of bed and move to my laptop, while I dial her number on my phone. My computer’s being slow, so it isn’t till she answers that I’m able to open the attachment.
Then I see the headline in one of the tabloids, and I stop breathing.
‘New York billionaire in secret three-way tryst!’ it screams, but that’s not what causes fear to clutch at me.
It’s the picture underneath, one of Bailey, Sebastian and I. Her hair obstructs her face but I would know her anywhere. She’s in her bra and panties, bent over a pool table, and I’m standing behind her, cupping her ass. Sebastian’s in the picture as well. He’s shirtless, and he’s about to make a shot.
I remember the evening well. It was two weeks ago, and Bailey had been teasing Sebastian about being distracted by her cleavage. If I play against either of you in my bra and panties, she had laughed, I’ll win. So we bet on it and Sebastian had promptly lost the game, much to Bailey’s delight.
The photo has been taken in my apartment.
In the background of my mind, I give silent thanks that her face is hidden. This isn’t about her - she’s an innocent victim in a battle between Cyrus and me.
My mind is working at light-speed. Someone’s been inside my apartment to plant a camera in the game room. Cyrus is involved somehow, I’m sure of it. After all, he’s the only one who has something to gain if my personal life is in the news.
“Daniel,” Sally says on the line. “You’ve seen the picture.”
“I have.”
She gulps. “There’s more. Sophie will be calling you as soon as she gets in, but your board has convened an emergency meeting for tomorrow. They are going to question your fitness to lead the company.”
Sally is well-connected to the gossip mills. “Tomorrow morning? That soon?”
“Mr. Strauss is going to cut short his vacation in Florida and fly back this evening,” she says. “We pay for his car service.”
“Thank you, Sally. Any recommendations to manage this?”
She clears her throat. “Don’t come into the office - there’s a horde of paparazzi at the door. Stay out of sight until the board meeting.”
I nod. Her advice is sensible, and I’m going to take it, but not until I get some answers. Because that photo was taken in my apartment, and if there was a camera in the game room, there is much more than one photo of the three of us. The pool table has been a prop in many games, and not all of them involve a cue ball.
This photo obstructs Bailey’s face. The others won’t. Worse, there could be video. This is serious.
My next call is to Stone Bradley, who runs a private investigation firm that I’ve used in the past. He picks up on the first ring. “Stone, this is Daniel Hartman,” I say. “Sorry to wake you so early.”