by C. T. Sloan
Everyone is either looking at their trading stations or at the TV. The CNBC anchor goes back to the scene in Kuva. Another news flash appears on screen. “Unconfirmed Reports: President Molidak Killed.”
“Sell the gold positions,” Mr. Peak obarks. Everyone obeys. My boss walks off of the trading floor. I follow him. A couple of the Hedge Fund’s employees also follow him. We head to an opulent office complete with oriental vases, Picassos, and sculptures that, I am sure, are worth more than most homes.
Mr. Peak lights up a cigar and barks to one of the men, “How much have we made this morning?”
A senior looking employee checks his iPad. “Final trades are now confirmed. The Fund has made a profit of $350 million dollars.”
My boss takes a puff out of his cigar and nods his head. “Good,” he says.
That senior employee looks at me. I can tell he is annoyed. He has no idea who I am. All he knows is that I am overly dressed to be standing in the middle of a Hedge Fund in New York.
Mr. Peak notices that people are staring at me. My boss snaps his fingers and motions for me to come to him. Like a dutiful little pet, I skip over to his side. He doesn’t introduce me to the men. Nor does he even acknowledge me by name. However, the body language is clear. I am the woman close to the biggest alpha male in the room. I am special.
No one stares at me oddly anymore. Mr. Peak barks some more orders before everyone else leaves the room. My boss turns on the TV and continues to monitor the activities in Odostan. I relax my shoulders and catch my breath. As much as I would like to plop myself down on a sofa, I don’t want to risk taking such liberties in my boss’s office.
Mr. Peak looks at the TV with fire in his eyes. He sees the thousands upon thousands of Odostan citizens screaming for blood. He looks at the tanks on the street and the jet fighters in the air. Mr. Peak made this happen. He has true power only few men will ever know.
As my boss watches the action unfold, he walks up to me. He grabs me by the hips. “You see that,” he whispers into my ear. “That is how you become a true master in this world. A big bank account can come and go. The power to control entire nations is the key to becoming untouchable by governments, by dictators and by Kings.”
“I am learning so much from you, Sir.”
Mr. Peak places his forearm across my neck. “Let me ask you a question,” he says as he slowly cuts off the oxygen to my neck. “Would you ever betray me?”
“No,” I say as I struggle to breathe.
“Would you ever sell me out to protect yourself?”
“No sir!” I squeak out as he tightens his grip.
“Would you sell me out for money!”
“No. Please!” I beg as he chokes the life out of me.
“I don’t believe you. I knew that you were gifted in the art of deceit. You used deceit to get your foot into my door. You used deceit to gain information from Sir Gerald and Sergey. You are not a student. You are a fucking master. You are a master of deceit and I know that you would eventually turn on me, Sarah. You tell me that you would be loyal? I can see deceit in your eyes,” he says as he lets me go.
I fall to the ground. My body feels weak. I struggle to breathe. The room spins as I try to focus my eyes. I look around the room for my boss. He is standing next to the window, looking out over the park.
As I regain my vision, I see him standing there confused and perplexed. What could be bothering him. This is a man who does not seem to be afraid of anything. This is the first time I have seen my boss be truly conflicted.
I am too weak to stand up. I crawl to Mr. Peak. I have to know what I have done to displease my master. “Mr. Peak,” I beg. “Please understand that I would do anything for you. I would never betray you. I would never hurt you.”
Nothing. No reaction. It’s as though I am not even in the room. Oh God. I have never felt so abandoned in my life. Out of all of the things Mr. Peak has done to me, this hurts the most. This is not a pleasurable pain. This is real pain. This is neglect.
“Mr. Peak!” I yell at the top of my voice. I grab onto his pants and struggle to pull myself up. He won’t even look me in the eye. “Please look at me. Please. Please, Sir. Look at me,” I yell as my lower lip quivers.
Seconds go by. A full minute goes by. My boss walks away from me. He walks to the table and presses the intercom. “Mary, bring in the suitcase,” my boss orders. I lean up against the window. I bang my head against it. Dammit. Mr. Peak doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.
The office door opens. A stunning redhead carries a black suitcase inside. She leaves as quickly as she enters. Mr. Peak opens the suitcase and looks inside. Then he walks over to me. He drops the suitcase onto my feet.
“Open it,” he orders.
At last. Mr. Peak has acknowledged my presence! I struggle to open the case. My trembling fingers will not allow me to properly follow my boss’s orders. After long seconds of crying and fumbling, I finally unlock the suitcase.
I open up the case and see a collection of one hundred dollar bills, gold and silver and diamonds. There must be fifty million dollars of wealth in this suitcase. “That’s yours. Payment for services rendered. You can walk out of that door and out of my life and never have to work another day for as long as you shall live,” Mr. Peak tells me.
This is it. This suitcase is the end to all of my troubles. This is the end to all of my worries. I could move to Hawaii. I could buy a little place on the beach and enjoy thousands of sunsets without fear of losing everything.
But what will I have in my life? A fucking suitcase full of stuff. Yes, the stuff would buy me a lifetime of leisure. But what about a lifetime of love, a lifetime of lust, a lifetime of learning, a lifetime of adventure? I would be married to this suitcase - till death or insolvency do us part.
I look at the large windows. Then I press my nose and look down 42 floors below. My life is nothing without Mr. Peak. I close the suitcase and begin slam it against the large window. “What are you doing?!” my boss yells.
I don’t answer. I struggle to lift up the suitcase. I slam it against the window again and again. “I don’t want to fucking live without you! I fucking don’t need this money! It means nothing to me!” I scream as I pound on the window with all of my might.
A small crack appears. I lean back and slam the window one more time. I hear an explosion of glass. Shards of the ten foot window rain down around me. I feel the cool Manhattan air against my face. The heavy suitcase makes me lean forward. Everything is a blur for a moment. When I regain my vision, I see the clear image of the Manhattan streets hundreds of feet below.
In that moment, I realize I am going to die. There is no fear in my body. There is only release and relief. You can not be part of something that doesn’t want you. Even with all the wealth you need, one can never function with that missing piece in your heart and in your soul. You can try to fill that missing piece with all the gold and homes and all the cars you can buy, but that hole will never be filled.
I watch the suitcase fly away from my hands. It opens, cash, gold and silver spill out into the air. Time stops. I can see the glistening reflection of the precious metals fire the light into my eyes. It blinds me.
As my body falls forward, I feel a sudden rush of pain. I feel an overwhelming power pull me up and back into the office. The fallen glass cuts my body. I am spun onto my back. My eyes focus. Mr. Peak is staring at me like a raging tiger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” he yells as he slaps me across the face. He picks me up and throws me on the sofa. “I offer you all of that money and you throw it out of my fucking window! Are you insane?!”
Mr. Peak waits for me to answer. There is a sudden rush of adrenaline. Fear fires back through my veins. I open my mouth and tell Mr. Peak, “I’m sorry, Sir. My loyalty to you is more important than any amount of money.”
Several large men swing Mr. Peak’s doors open with their guns drawn. “Code Three Seven Seven Alpha,” Mr. Peak says calmly.
The security team quickly put their firearms away. I guess that is Mr. Peak’s secret code for his security team indicating that everything is fine.
Some of the large men walk up to the broken window and look down. Mr. Peak calmly tells them, “Have the security detail go down there and recover my funds.” They rush out and leave Mr. Peak and myself alone once again.
Mr. Peak forces me to sit up straight. I look at him with tears in my eyes. “Well, I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that I believe you are loyal to me. The bad news is that you owe me for a broken window and whatever money I lost down there on Columbus Circle. Since you don’t have any money to speak of, I’m going to take it out on your ass.”
I smile. Mr. Peak does care about me.
“What the fuck are you smiling about?!” my boss yells.
I can’t stop. I’m giddy.
“You think this is fucking funny. You throw fifty million dollars out of my window. I’m going to give your three seconds to wipe that smile off of your face.”
I can’t stop grinning. He really does care about me.
“Dammit!” Mr. Peak yells.
My boss grabs me and throws me down on the sofa. He pulls my legs over one of the sofa’s armrests so my ass is propped up in the air. He pulls down my thong and pulls my dress up. Then Mr. Peak starts to spank my ass with his belt.
“You don’t fuck around with me! Do you understand that?!” Mr. Peak yells. Every slap is a punishment and a reward. It is a punishment because I have displeased my boss. It is a reward because he cares enough to hurt me in a way that brings sexual pleasure to him.
I feel the hard leather slap against my ass cheeks. Yes, it hurts but I love the attention I am getting from Mr. Peak. I grab the other sofa armrest and begin to bite down on the leather in the sofa.
When Mr. Peak is done. He turns me over and rips apart my dress. I watch my boss’s eyes gaze over my naked body. “Dammit. You look so tasty,” Mr. Peak growls as he removes his clothing.
Damn, I never get sick of seeing my boss’s strong arms and chest. He removes his pants, revealing his powerful thighs. The bulge in his underwear is nice and thick. This man is ready to fucking destroy me.
Mr. Peak pulls down my thong. He runs his tongue up to my breasts as he rubs his right hand between my legs. I claw at his back and run my fingers through my boss’s hair. We fall off of the sofa. And for the first time, I am on top!
I sit up and straddle my boss’s hips. I can feel him grinding his hard cock against me. He takes my fingernails and slowly slides them across his chest. Mr. Peak doesn’t allow me complete control for long. He reaches up and slowly chokes me. His grip is strong and sure. I nearly black out.
My boss turns the tables and gets on top of me. He pulls down his underwear and slowly pushes himself inside of my young body. He feels nice and big. My face is blushing. I can feel the heat exploding all over my body.
Mr. Peak begins to fuck me nice and hard. My back rubs against the hardwood floor. My boss pulls on my hair. He kisses my neck. Then he gets right down to the business of fucking my young body.
As my boss puts his full concentration and effort into getting himself off, I get a nice view of his huge chest. I could stare at it all day. I run my hands up to his massive and broad shoulders. Then I hold his face in my hands. Then something strange happens. He looks me in my eyes.
Oh my God. He has never done that before. For the first time, we are fucking on a more personal level. I move in to kiss him. He pushes my face down and continues to fuck me. Oh well, I’ll take a few seconds of eye contact over nothing at all.
My boss turns me over and forces me to get on my hands and knees. Mr. Peak enters me from behind. He pulls on my hair and spanks my ass. Dammit. He is really drilling the hell out of me!
We moan. We scream. We both cum at the same time. Our bodies collapse on top of each other as the cool air from the broken window brushes across our bodies. We can hear the police sirens below. This morning has been a hell of a ride.
***
Mr. Peak’s New York office is not an office. It’s a freaking luxury apartment. After we had sex, he picked me up and walked me to this door. He kicked open the door and there in front of me is an eight hundred square foot bathroom suite complete with a jacuzzi tub.
My boss turns on the water and hugs me from behind as he looks out of the windows. We watch as the police try to control the melee forty-two floors below. Apparently, when you toss over fifty million dollars of gold, silver and cash out of a window, New Yorkers tend to over-react.
We watch as people kick, punch and fight each other while police use mace, batons and illegal choke holds to stop the chaos. Mr. Peak looks at the action for a minute and then he says, “That, right there, is the story of our modern world.”
The water from the jacuzzi fills up and we get inside. Mr. Peak grabs his iPhone and makes a call while he looks at me. “Jonas. There is a short black dress along with a pair of black high heel shoes, which belongs to Miss Sulamari. Have it brought up to my office immediately,” Mr. Peak orders.
My boss tosses away the phone and turns on the 60 inch TV in the bathroom. He switches over to CNN. I lean over and hug him as we watch the latest updates from Odostan. The once crisp white Presidential Palace at Kuva is a pockmarked mess spewing black smoke. An alert blazes across the screen: CONFIRMED: PRESIDENT MOLIDAK KILLED.
Mr. Peak smiles and puts the remote down. We watch as the citizens of Odostan dance in the streets. Three tanks pull down the statue to the late dictator. People take turns kicking the large marble head of the dead dictator.
“Odostan exports over 200 billion dollars of oil per year which is now in the control of General Zhukov and myself,” Mr. Peak brags as he strokes my hair. I look up at my boss and he educates his faithful student on the art of managing the spoils of war.
“General Zhukov will need to manage the hundreds of billions of dollars generated by the oil sales. That will be my responsibility. I conservatively estimate that my firm will earn anywhere from ten to fifteen billion dollars a year managing that money,” Mr. Peak explains. Damn.
“So, everything has worked out, Sir?” I say hoping to gain the approval of my master.
Mr. Peak looks out of the window, then he looks down at my anxious face. “Tomorrow, the front page of the New York Post and the Daily News will feature a full front page photo of the clusterfuck below. My name will be associated with it. This will spurn scrutiny in my activities. The New York media is the one thing I can not stop. But, I can control it,” Mr. Peak explains.
“And how will you do that, Sir?” I ask.
My boss looks at me. He takes his right index finger and points it at my nose. “Sarah, you have this gift of seduction. You can seduce powerful and violent men. Now, I need you to seduce an entire world.”
My boss’s cryptic words make me nervous and excited.
Mr. Peak steps out of the bath and grabs a towel. I follow him, grab the towel and begin to dry off my boss’s muscular body. “Normally, I shun the media. I kept a low profile which allowed me the privilege to profit in secret. The media didn’t mind. They are more obsessed with DUI driving starlets and drugged out rock stars. But in the age of Twitter, YouTube, buzzfeed, blogs and Internet forums, no one powerful person can remain truly private. That’s why I need to present a face for the media. I know powerful, strong men can scare people. It intimidates and angers society when they see one man with so much wealth and influence. But there is one thing that melts the heart of the darkest, most cynical person. That is the beautiful and stunning arm candy to any power man. Ah, the world is seduced by young beauty. That’s where you come in, Sarah,” Mr. Peak explains as he puts on his robe. I quickly dry myself off as we walk back into my boss’s office.
We find a pressed suit for my boss and a black dress for myself. Mr. Peak begins to get dressed as he explains his intentions. “Tonight, there is a gala at the Met. Some fashion thing I am always invited to and never
attend. It is traditionally New York’s biggest nights for the rich and powerful. We will be there in attendance tonight. And you will be introduced to the world as my woman.”
My jaw drops. He is presenting me to the press and to the world as his woman?! Oh fuck! Mr. Peak walks up to me and grabs my shoulders. “This will be your ultimate seduction. You will smile for the cameras. You will make the press, New York society and the world fall in love with you. You will be charming. You will be stylish. You will be my Jackie O, my Princess Grace,” Mr. Peak says as he pauses for a moment and then continues. “You will be my better half.”
***
Mr. Peak’s last words kept resonating through my head. You will be my better half. Our bond is complete. My boss makes the rounds to his traders. He has an intimate conversation with his managing director. I can’t help but listen to the intense conversation. It sounds like many of the gold and silver coins have been recovered from the street below. The fifteen million dollars in cash is gone due to the fact that the paper money is pretty much untraceable. My boss doesn’t seem to be too upset about that. He seems more concerned about any potential bad publicity.
