So, I opted to design a website—which, years later, would ultimately convert into an app—one that would allow both Owners and possessions to seek out one another. It was a way of bringing likeminded people together. Due to the strict guidelines I set up, it had taken some time to develop and perfect, and even now we were continuing to tweak the process, but a determined man could and would achieve his goal. No doubt I’d been determined.
It had been during my initial testing of the site when I had come across Auberon, although he’d had a different name back then. I didn’t know what it was, didn’t want to know, just one of several hundred criteria I had worked into the program. For me personally, I’d opted to assign them a number during their probationary period, and once I acquired them, they were allowed to choose what they preferred to be called. Within reason, of course. Male Three, now known as Auberon, had proven himself over the years, his servitude nearly unparalleled. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
I heard the familiar click of heels on tile as I tucked my hands in my pockets once more, watching as the sky lightened, the sun preparing for its ascent. It was interesting, really, that I would have an office in such a big city when I detested city life. Then again, I had offices across the US and a few in Europe, although I spent a large majority of my time on Sapphire Island.
“You summoned,” Tiegan said with a hint of amusement.
While my possessions took care of me on a personal level, Tiegan Shaw handled everything on the business front. She didn’t do it alone, of course. She had the help of others, but she was my executive assistant, and she managed things according to my instruction.
I glanced over, gave her a quick perusal from head to toe. Today Tiegan looked the part of the professional female, a role she pulled off with ease. While she did nothing for me on a sexual level, she was the epitome of sinful sexuality. Her black knee-length A-line skirt showed off her curvy ass and narrow hips, while an emerald-green blouse gave a glimpse of her ample cleavage and shimmered in the overhead lights. As was par for the course, a pair of Jimmy Choos added five inches to her meager five-foot-two-inch stature. Her plum-colored hair was pulled back from her face in a ridiculous bun, her green eyes accentuated by black liner that had been perfectly applied.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Business or pleasure?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “A little of both, perhaps.”
She didn’t respond, but I knew she was listening.
“I’ll be relocating Ransom Bishop and his sister, Braelyn, to Sapphire Island.”
“For how long?”
“Indefinitely.”
Although Ransom hadn’t specified as much, I’d already come up with a plan that would ensure both could reside on the island for as long as necessary, forever if they were so inclined. If it went according to plan, neither of them would be eager to leave.
I went on to give Tiegan the details as I knew them. I was only equipped with the basics, but I figured it was enough. I could tell she was both impressed and amused at my knowledge considering my far too brief interaction with Miss Bishop.
“I need this to appear as though it’s her decision,” I explained.
“Understood. Do I have a timeline to work with?”
“I expect her and Ransom on the plane with us tomorrow evening.”
“I’ll get it taken care of.”
“Do understand this is nonnegotiable for Miss Bishop. If you’re unable to persuade her, we’ll make some concessions.”
“I think I can handle it, Talon.”
I glanced over, nodded curtly. “I have faith you will.”
She replied with a smile, one that promised I would be impressed with her methods. Just as I always was.
As soon as Tiegan left my office, I pulled out my cell phone, dialed “1”, and waited for the gruff, raspy voice to answer.
“It’s early,” Zion Sisk stated by way of greeting.
“It is. And you’ve been up for two hours, I’m sure.”
The hoarse chuckle on the other end was confirmation. “What can I do for you, boss?”
I went on to explain Ransom’s current predicament, along with his request as well as my suggestion regarding tying up loose ends here in Chicago.
“He’ll need help,” I informed Zion.
“And that’s you giving me an order?”
I chuckled. “You know me too well.”
“I’m on it, boss.”
“Keep me updated.”
The call ended and my desk phone beeped.
Seven o’clock. Time for my next meeting.
I got the feeling it was going to be a long day.
THREE
Braelyn
I was late again.
A solid hour this time, and I knew it was going to be the last time I strolled into this building. I’d seen it on my boss’s face when he stepped out of his office to observe my approach. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t my fault, but we both knew better. While I hadn’t overslept or purposely disregarded my duties, I did have personal reasons for my tardiness. Personal reasons that had begun to affect my ability to do my job. And to live my life, in fact.
Today’s interruption to my routine: Ransom was late in picking me up to drive me to work, something he’d started insisting on doing for the past year. This morning he’d been acting fishy, claiming he had been taking care of something while, at the same time, continuously peering in the rearview mirror like we were being followed. When he wouldn’t be straight with me, I told him next time I was going to call an Uber. He hadn’t been happy about that.
So here I was, doing what little I could while sitting in my nothing-fancy cubicle, watching the clock, counting down the seconds until it was all over. I was surprised my boss hadn’t—
Although I’d been expecting it, the ringing of my desk phone had me flinching, my hand trembling only slightly as I reached to pick up the receiver.
There was no reason for pleasantries, because I could see who it was. The extension on the screen belonged to my boss, and this wasn’t the sort of call where he was checking in to see how I was doing or wondering if I’d be able to get out of here early like everyone else gearing up for New Year’s.
Nope. I couldn’t get that lucky.
“Hello?”
“Braelyn, I need to see you in my office, please.”
“Of course, sir,” I said politely although I recognized his tone. The conversation that would follow wasn’t going to be the least bit polite.
Glancing at my computer screen one final time, I noted that my inbox was empty. The out-of-office notification was already written, directing anyone messaging me to go to one of the appropriate department heads for assistance. The only thing I had to do was click the box to turn it on. Question was, did I do it now? Or should I wait until this meeting was over?
Now, I decided, tapping the mouse button, the little check mark assuring me the out-of-office was active. I closed everything else down, took a deep breath, and pushed to my feet. Unwilling to show fear, I schooled my expression, smoothed the front of my cashmere sweater, then my skirt, and exhaled.
I got the feeling this was what it felt like to walk the plank. You know, that moment when you’ve been sentenced to some untimely fate, whether it was by your own doing or not. Despite the fact I knew there were murky, dark waters awaiting me on the other end, I managed to put one foot in front of the other, making my way through the open room, ignoring the disparaging eyes of my coworkers as they peeked out of their cubicles to watch me. I wasn’t the only one who’d been expecting this.