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This is it,Carter finds himself thinking, a nearly-hysterical laugh bubbling in his chest.Nathan is about to end the operation and save everyone, and you’re going to die a fucking minute beforehand.
A hand grabs the back of Carter’s neck and tugs. He’s suddenly free of any other touch, the man’s cock falling from his mouth. He sucks in air so fast he chokes on it, coughing and spluttering. The moment he gets it under control, he sucks in more.
“You can finish on his face,” he hears Nathan say, the hand on his neck warm and firm. Carter sinks into the hold and lets his eyes fall closed.
He hears a displeased grunt before the sound of a spit-soaked cock getting stroked. It only takes a few seconds before the man is finishing, so he must have been close. Apparently nearly killing Carter was a major turn-on.
Cum splatters over Carter’s face. He flinches, but the hand on his neck remains and he lets that soothe him.
The man thanks Nathan, his footsteps fading. Nathan moves and a thumb quickly brushes away the cum that’s gathered on Carter’s eyelashes. “Good boy,” Nathan murmurs. “Stay.”
Carter stays, carefully opening his eyes in case Nathan missed anything.
Carter suddenly hears Nathan’s voice booming through the speakers. “Alright, alright, settle down. Like I said, I’ll open these boys up for some more fun in a minute. But I have a great fucking speech to make, so get yourselves some champagne and shut the hell up for a minute. I expect to be toasted fucking hard.”
The crowd laughs and cheers. Carter doesn’t have to look to know the champagne is being distributed. This is part of the plan. The speech and the champagne – that’s the final stage. It’s a matter of minutes now.
Carter can do that. He can handle minutes.
Nathan’s speech starts out with him thanking people like he’s won an Oscar or something, which is kind of funny considering hehasbeen acting all this time. It’s boring, though. Less boring than the fact that Carter is only inches away from his brother now.
Careful not to be obvious, Carter dips his chin down and then moves his eyes to look over at Maison. Maison was already looking back, their gazes locking the moment Carter finds him. He doesn’t know what he was expecting out of the exchange. Maybe just to see that his brother is really there. That he’s really okay. Maison nods his head once like he’s reaffirming that. Carter looks away before he can get caught.
“To the Roarke Empire making all of us filthy fucking rich!” Nathan roars, raising his champagne glass in the air.
A sea of glasses raise in solidarity. Hundreds of glasses.
Poisoned.
Deadly.
The final step.
They drink. All of them. So. Many. Of. Them.
“To Maison Beckett!”
They drink again.
A few people waver in the crowd.
“To Maison Beckett’s little whore brother!”
They drink again.
Someone falls to the ground. People gasp. More fall.
People scream.
No, it’sslavesscreaming.
No one else is screaming because they’re not able to. Most are lying still. Some are managing to stay on their feet, stumbling into tables, knocking into each other. Four slaves are much calmer than the others. Six guests are standing tall with guns in their hands.
A guest starts to run towards the door - too much energy. They must not have had champagne. Or not enough of it.
Someone shoots him. He falls. Hard. Carter gasps at the sigh of it. So sudden. So violent.
If he thought the slaves were screaming before, that was nothing compared to now.
