by Riley Storm
What are you doing? Why do you care about this woman so much?
I don’t. I’m here to figure out what she’s up to, so I can prevent it. No other reason.
Victor told himself that. He called up memories of his past, the ones that drove him night and day now and fed off the shame, embarrassment, guilt, and even the anger. He fed it all inside him…only for it to be doused by the liquid of his soul. What was going on?
Confused, not understanding his inner reluctance to continue his crusade against Cheryl and what her ancestor had done to him, he stood up straight. This was pointless. He needed to go back and start preparing to spend the money coming his way. That would be the best use of his time.
As he stepped away from the door, however, a sound caught his ear. Victor froze, listening closely, wondering if he’d heard it correctly. It had sounded like—
Yes, there it was again! A sob, a soft cry, from inside her office.
A stab of guilt ducked in under his chest and rammed home deep in his gut. He was destroying this woman’s life. A life she had no doubt worked hard to create. This project would have been her crowning achievement, he was sure. Something she would look back upon with satisfaction for a long time to come. And he was ripping it away from her.
She deserves it! He sneered at the thought and its truthfulness. Her entire bloodline deserved what they had done to him. She didn’t need the wealth. Her grandmother, or great grandmother, would have left enough. Victor had been anything but a pauper, even among dragons. He had worked hard for his treasure, only to have it snatched away on the back of a witch. Now she would have the same treasure taken away from her.
Victor tried to smile at that thought. To bask in the victory coming his way. It should have been his moment of triumph.
But the quiet sounds of Cheryl’s distress peeled back his hatred and satisfaction like a master chef preparing a cut of meat for the burner. He was powerless to resist. In fact…it almost hurt.
Without thinking, he reached out and opened the door to her office.
“Cheryl…” he trailed off as she looked up at him, twin laser beams of red-tinged brown drilling out of her eyes and into him with a hatred he could no longer match.
“What do you want?” she hissed.
Victor hastily rethought his approach
She doesn’t want to be consoled by you. You’re the reason she’s upset!
“I have to know something,” he said, forcing himself to act nonchalant, as if he didn’t care about her feelings.
At no point did Victor make the connection that even having such a thought meant he did care.
“What?” she asked dully, wiping at her eyes even as they continued to try and impale him to the chair. “What could I possibly say that you would care about?”
Victor frowned at the uncomfortable pit in his stomach but pushed it aside. Now wasn’t the time to focus on that.
“Elizabeth Anders. Are you related to her?”
The look she focused on him was so malevolent, so filled with disgust, anger and sheer contempt, that Victor found himself recoiling from it slightly.
“That’s what you want to know?” Cheryl hissed. Both palms came down on the desk with a loud slap. “Of everything you could have asked, that was your question?” She rose from her seat to loom over him as best as possible given their height differences.
Victor stood hastily. He should leave. Just exit and close the door behind him. That was what he should do.
I will not retreat! I am a dragon. I fear nothing from this puny woman!
Cheryl slapped one hand on the desk again. Victor flinched.
“Get out of my office.”
Finally, finally something defiant in him perked up, and Victor stood his ground. He had to know the answer to this question. To ensure he was justified in his plan. That she wasn’t just some sort of freakish lookalike.
“Do you know her? Is she your ancestor?” he rumbled, spreading his feet ever so slightly, making it clear he was planting himself in that spot until he got an answer.
“You’re a creep,” she spat. “A stalker. How would you ever know that?”
“Trust me,” he said dryly. “The last thing I wanted was this. It’s just a question.”
Cheryl threw her hands in the air in frustration. “Yes. She’s my great-grandmother on my father’s side. There, are you happy? What the hell kind of good does that do you? Now get out of my office before I call security and the police.”
Victor nodded and backed toward the exit, putting an extra step or two between them before he gave her his back and retreated.
“Take care,” he said as he pulled the door closed behind him.
“Go fuck yourself.”
He yanked the door fully closed just before the flying stapler slammed into the door. Frowning at the sound of the impact, Victor let go of the handle, pausing in the hallway to try and gather his thoughts.
Why was she so mad? All he’d done was ask a question…
8
“What an asshole!” she hissed, staring at the closed door for several long moments before going to and retrieving her stapler. The office item wasn’t deserving of her wrath.
Unlike that ass Victor Drakon, who had more than earned every ounce she could hurl his way. How dare he come in here after what he’d just done and pretend like none of it mattered!
She seethed with fury, practically shaking in her skin as she sat back down behind her desk. The only benefit to his sudden appearance was that she was no longer sad, but instead livid beyond belief.
Not once had he apologized for what he was doing or acted like he even cared. Which, it was safe to say, meant he didn’t care. Not that it should come as a surprise. From the moment she’d laid eyes on his perfect teeth and admittedly strikingly hot facial features, he’d acted in nothing but his own self-interest.
“Standard hot male, only cares about what he wants. Not about anyone around them.” She sighed. “Why couldn’t the hot ones be the caring ones as well? Instead of the stuck-up assholes?”
Flopping down behind her desk, the wind suddenly taken out of her righteous fury, Cheryl rubbed at her forehead. What else was she supposed to do? This wasn’t the city’s project. This was something the Drakon family had come to them to propose. They were going to fund it. The city was just going to ease some restrictions, give them some kickbacks to ensure they used local labor and parts as best they could. Things that would benefit Plymouth Falls.
She could take those away of course, but what would Victor care? He must have been ready for that anyway. He would expect her to remove those from the agreement. There was nothing else the town could do to him.
“Wait a minute,” she said with a frown, sitting upright. “There’s nothing else the town can do to him on this project.”
Her years of experience in Plymouth Falls had taught Cheryl a lot, and she’d noticed much more. Everyone knew there were three founding families. The Drakons, the Canis, and the Ursa. Very weird names likely descended from some sort of noble or some such. But they had been there from the start.
And they were heavily invested in Plymouth Falls. Cheryl had done countless projects where she’d come across their name, or across businesses that she knew could be traced back to them. The common layperson in Plymouth Falls would never know just how much of the town they controlled, but Cheryl did. She was one of the few who had worked with them, or their liaisons, at least.
“Maybe we can’t stop you from downsizing the Outreach Center,” she said nastily, sending out a quick text to her team, letting them know they needed to be in her office five minutes ago.
Wiping the last of her tears away, Cheryl’s face cracked open in a grin as Liz entered first.
“What’s up boss?” she asked, taking a seat at a gesture.
Cheryl waited for the others to arrive before responding. They came in soon after. Soon enough that she realized they must have been waiting on this summons.
“Okay, pe
ople,” she said, her voice pure ice. “We were going to make this project as hard on Victor as possible. Roadblocks everywhere, that sort of thing. But that’s not going to slow him enough. So it’s time to get really nasty. To make his life miserable.”
Grins erupted around the table.
“What have you got in mind, boss?”
“We need to find out every project the Drakon family is involved in. And then we slam them with every injunction, inspection notice, stop work order and extra fee that we can, unless Victor agrees to stop playing hardball. I don’t know what his deal is, but I don’t believe him for a second about the downsizing. You don’t make that size of commitment without first knowing that it’s possible.”
The others looked around uneasily. Cheryl understood. This was their first time dabbling in politics. She’d felt that way too when she was more junior.
“Here’s how it works, people,’ she said. “You get me the information. I choose what to do with it, and when. None of it gets back to you.”
“Do you know who we’re dealing with?” Tanya asked uncertainly, looking around at the other two.
“Yes. I realize this is the Drakon family. One of the founders of Plymouth Falls, blah, blah, blah,” she said, reciting stuff every schoolchild was taught. “But right now, I don’t really give a shit. They’re trying to play us, and I will not have it.”
For a moment, Cheryl thought they were going to say no. She wouldn’t blame them, of course, this was a risky move no matter how much she was going to attempt to take ownership of it. But if they did it right then maybe, just maybe, they could salvage some of the original plan.
“You know what, fuck it,” Liz said, surprising Cheryl by being the first to speak up. “I’m in. This was going to be a massive payoff for the entire town. So many people would have benefitted from it during construction, but also in jobs after. This isn’t a little investment. This would have been practically transformative for the entire town. I’m down with not letting this punk ruin it with a snap of his fingers. Let’s fight back, I say.”
Cheryl grinned.
Tanya and Stephen chimed in moments later, both of them echoing the sentiment. They were also just as pissed off at Victor. The loss of the Outreach Center was going to reflect badly on all of them.
She surveyed her team, buoyed by their agreement, and feeling energized by their shared dislike of Victor.
“Let’s get to work.”
9
Another meeting.
Another day where he still didn’t have the money. His money.
Victor was fuming by the time he arrived back at the country offices for yet another meeting. This time, he was determined things would go differently. This time, Cheryl would sign the damn documents before he left the building, no matter what it took.
It was with that mindset that he strode into the conference room, shoulders back, spine straight, and eyes ready to stare anyone who argued against him into silence. Victor was on the financial warpath, and he would stop at nothing to get what he felt was his dues.
“Victor.”
That was all it took. One word. Two syllables. Nothing more, and Victor was no longer on the offensive.
He reeled mentally as the floor tilted heavily in Cheryl’s direction. Her entire time was arrayed against him on the far side of the table. Not a single one of them looked uneasy, unhappy, or upset.
What the hell is going on here?
The water dragon steadied himself. Instead of immediately responding and giving her the floor, he stared each one of them down. Stephen, Tanya, Liz, and finally, Cheryl.
None of them flinched from his gaze. Some of their eyes wavered ever so slightly, but not Cheryl’s. Whatever was about to happen, she was going after it full bore, that much was obvious to Victor.
He took a moment to admire the set of her face. It was quite attractive, so focused and strong. Those were traits he could admire, respect even. Traits he wanted in a woman. Cheryl, he suspected, would be quite a lot of fun in bed.
Stop this, right now. This woman is your enemy! Not a bedmate. Get yourself together and stop staring at her soft skin and full lips. No more imagining what the curves of her breasts look like without that tight, restrictive vest and blouse. Enough.
“You have signed the documents?” he asked roughly, declining to offer Cheryl the chance to speak first. He could barely focus on asking his question, because the dragon inside him was going berserk, plastering images of Cheryl bent over the conference table into every corner of his mind.
He could feel his pants growing tighter and fought back with every ounce of mental strength he had to keep any reaction to her from showing.
Cheryl flicked her head and long silvery-white hair went bouncing around in her tight ponytail. Victor nearly lost it. He could only imagine what it would be like to enter her from behind, grabbing a fistful of that beautiful yet unusual hair as he rode her into submission.
She would be his. She had to be. He would break her in bed, and then in the office. Yes, that was how it would have to be.
Victor dropped his bag onto the floor and leaned over the table, feeling blood rush to a dozen places in his body as he stared her down, letting her see his intentions in his eyes. A flare of his nostril. He didn’t care that others were there. They could watch as he broke their boss, made her his own.
Cheryl was looking slightly flustered. He could see the color change in her cheeks. The increase in her pace of breath. Victor could smell her uncertainty, and also her desire. She couldn’t mask that from him, no human could. As a dragon, he was well aware of the effects he would have on her, and now he exploited them to the fullest. Muscles strained against his suit jacket, pulling taut, showing her what she would get.
“We didn’t sign the documents.”
Victor reared back slightly, as did Cheryl, both of them looking a little relieved. What was he thinking? Trying to seduce her here in the office? That wasn’t the proper way to do things at all!
Confused, he turned to the speaker.
Liz just stared back at him, then stifled a very fake yawn. It was a message, and a not so subtle one.
Let’s get back to business, shall we?
“You didn’t sign,” he said, sitting down. “Would you prefer we just cancel the project entirely?”
Throwing out that threat was one of his last resorts, and Victor cursed himself for doing it so casually. After all, this was one threat he couldn’t follow through with. The project had to go ahead. Otherwise, Aaric would find out too soon, and then everything would be ruined.
Of course, none of the humans seated opposite him knew that, so they wouldn’t call his bluff. They would be thrown into disarray and horror at the idea of losing the project entirely.
“It might be easier that way.”
Victor rocked back, unable to contain his surprise as Cheryl called his bluff. “Pardon?”
The platinum-blonde smiled tightly. “At this point, it might be easier to just cancel the project. We could find a buyer who would use more of the land, bring in a larger project. Either in construction, or in jobs once finished. It wouldn’t be hard to find something more beneficial to Plymouth Falls than the revised project you’ve given us.”
Victor didn’t reply immediately. This was a bluff. He knew it was a bluff. But he had to find the proper counter argument, to let them know he knew, so that they could move past this. Neither of them wanted the project cancelled. But he wasn’t going to be the one to submit. No human would ever make this dragon submit!
“Indeed, the mayor has told you as much?” he said casually, leaning back in his seat, affecting a very calm, uncaring demeanor.
It wasn’t Cheryl who gave it away, but rather Stephen. The two women remained calm, their stares unwavering. But Stephen’s nostrils flared at the same time he looked out of the corner of his eyes toward Cheryl. It was a very clear sign of worry.
Gotcha.
“Yes,” he continued. “I’m sure she
would be more than thrilled to know that it was her own people who had decided to say no to a project of any size. Remind me, how much new construction has Plymouth Falls seen in the past few years?”
Cheryl’s faced shifted ever so slightly, but it was enough to grant him the win. They knew better. He had them now, and he let a grin slip into place to show it. Victor was gloating without saying a word, but he didn’t care. These humans would never best him.
“If this is the way you wish it to be,” Cheryl said with a very tiring sigh.
“I showed you the documents,” he said, trying to resist the urge to frown. What was that supposed to mean? She was supposed to be caving now. Instead, Cheryl was still acting like she was in command of the room, of the situation. But she wasn’t.
Was she?
“Oh, I know you showed me them. I’ve seen them, I’ve reviewed them. I see just how badly you’ve slashed the budget and the scope of the project. For no perceived reason. You say it’s because the money isn’t there but, I just don’t know that I believe that.”
Victor’s blood cooled. What did she know? “I guess it’s a good thing it doesn’t matter what you believe, now does it?” he asked icily, trying to tamp down his feelings of respect for Cheryl as she continued to stand up to him.
Respect, and more than a little desire. It was attractive, this inner strength. He felt his hand twitching, eager to feel her skin under his touch. To rip the clothes free from her body.
“I only believe what the evidence shows me,” Cheryl said, still with cool aplomb. “I must admit, I’m very sorry to hear of the financial difficulties the Drakon family is going through. I assume then, that we will shortly be receiving revised plans for the other projects?”
Other projects? What the hell is she talking about?
Victor scrambled to understand what she was talking about. He wasn’t involved in any other projects. But Aaric was.
