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“Mr. Black, sir. How are you this morning?” Harold calls out to me.
“Fine, Harold. I’d like to get going as soon as possible.” I don’t mean to be so curt with him, but my mind is still with the spirited blonde back at home. I wonder if she has returned to her room yet or if she’s still screaming at my door.
“Yes, sir. The plane is fueled and ready to go. Which office are you needing to attend today?” he asks.
I think for a moment before answering, If I head to one of my overseas locations it will give me more time away than if I go to my London office. And since both Rebecca and I need time apart for completely different reasons—her to get used to being in my home, and I to get her out of my system—I make the decision easily. “The Paris office. I plan to be there for three days.”
“Of course, sir.”
That’s the best thing about Harold, he doesn’t question me. It might have something to do with the two million pounds per year I pay him, and the fact he wants for nothing. He is also the only one who knows everything about my businesses. The legal and not-so-legal ones.
You see, Harold isn’t just some guy in a suit who pilots my plane and drives my car. No, Harold is a retired member of the SBS—Special Boat Service—and originally a Royal Marine. After spending twenty years serving Her Royal Majesty, he came to work for me. He is incredibly deadly, both close-up and at a distance, and notices things that others often miss. He is also the only reason I feel 100 percent comfortable when I am in his presence. He has my six, in every situation we walk into.
On the outside, the world knows Alexander Black, technology tycoon and CEO of Black Industries. I developed software that the English military now uses, and they paid an incredibly high price for it. From there I developed even more useful programs for private enterprises. It has made me an incredibly wealthy man—in the billions to be sure.
But then there is the other side of me the world doesn’t know about.
I’m not a nice person. Never have been. I am ruthless and take what I want, fuck the damn consequences. Latest case in point is Rebecca Kennedy. I went to the party planning to walk away with her, and I did. I hadn’t expected her parents to let her go quite so easily; there really was next to no resistance. Though I would have taken her away one way or the other. Their easy acquiescence was just less messy. Little do they know how much danger she is now in.
I am a target. My technology has made a lot of people powerful, and others want that power for themselves, and when I don’t sell it to them, they don’t take it well. Then there is the illegal side of my enterprise—the black-market guns. I have had death threats and assassination attempts aplenty. But I’m still here and they aren’t. I continue to rise, and they’ve all fallen.
With my briefcase in hand, I walk up the air stair and into the main area of the plane. Taking my place in the oversized leather chair behind my desk, I then set my laptop up. Just as I’m logging onto the main platform to look over some coding I am currently working on, I feel the engines engage. I pull the lap belt across and feel it click. Flying is easy to me, I do it often enough that even if we hit turbulence I won’t blink.
As we leave the ground, I feel my breathing coming easier. The further I get away from Rebecca the simpler it becomes to ignore her presence, and the way she holds my attention like no one ever has before. I bring my hand down heavy on the desk in front of me. “Get a fucking grip, Black,” I mutter to myself. I clench and release my fists three times, before closing my eyes and taking three deep breaths. She is just a woman, and a woman will never bring me to my knees. Never.
Now I just have to believe that.
~ Chapter Five ~
Rebecca
For the first two daysof Alexander’s absence, I stay in my room, never leaving. Thelma drops trays of food off for me to ensure I eat, but she never stays for any length of time.
On the third day, I finally leave my room and head down to the kitchen where Thelma is busy preparing breakfast. “Good Morning, Thelma,” I call out as I enter the room. She spins on her heel, a large smile on her face.
“Miss Kennedy, it is wonderful to see you out of your bedroom. I was just getting everything ready to bring up to you. Have a seat, dear, and we can eat here this morning. Then perhaps we can go for a walk around the home, if you feel up to it.”
“Sounds good, thank you,” I reply. She slides a wonderful looking omelet in front of me along with two pieces of fresh crusty bread slathered in butter.
She sits beside me, and we eat in silence. Once complete, she takes me into the office I encountered while looking for Black on the first morning I was here.
“This is your office, dear. Mr. Black would like you to use this as you need to.”
I wander over to the large metal-and-glass desk and place my hands on the cool top, before looking back at her. “How am I supposed to do that, Thelma? I don’t have a computer or a phone. Anything that I need to work from home.” Being a travel and art blogger, I don’t have an office per se, but what I do need is a computer and the internet. Without it, I can’t update my blog.
Thelma’s kind smile doesn’t reach her eyes as she just looks at me. “Perhaps you can write a list of anything you need, dear, and I will see what can be arranged.”
“You mean what Alexander will allow, don’t you?” She nods at my question.
“Come, dear, there are other rooms you need to see.” I follow Thelma out of the office and we start our tour of the entire house. I count a total of ten bedrooms, all with their own bathroom; several formal sitting rooms; a large almost-empty room with an enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the ceiling, which Thelma tells me was once a great ballroom; two libraries, one with older books than the other. When asked about that, Thelma replies simply that “Mr. Black has a love of older things.” We then tour the living areas, with comfortable furnishings and a big television on the wall. And lastly, a private dining room with enough seating for at least twenty people.
“Does Mr. Black entertain often?” I ask.
“Occasionally” is her only response. I notice we avoid the hallway leading to Alexander’s own quarters during our tour, and we come to one other room I am not able to access. We continue on our way until we reach the front door. I look longingly at it, wanting to be outside in the fresh air more than anything. “Would you like to go for a walk outside?” she asks.
“Yes, please. I feel like I’m suffocating inside. I need fresh air.” I also need a chance to look around to see if I recognize anything around the property, and to try and ascertain an escape route.
Thelma opens the door and I walk straight out, taking in several deep breaths. The air is incredibly fresh and clean. I look around and glimpse grassy fields and forests in every direction, as well as a large brick building in the far distance. I raise my hand above my eyes as a shield from the sun and try to focus on that building, but it is too far away to make any sense of what it could be. All I know is that if it looks this large from this far away it must be enormous up close.
