by Abby Angel
“Ares, please --” Daphne starts, her voice low and unsteady, but I don’t even let her speak.
“Just go. The two of you. Just fucking go and let me be,” I whisper, sinking down on my chair and staring at them coldly. I see sorrow tainting the soft lines in Daphne’s face, and an urge to simply get up and wrap my arms around her and Lucas wells up in my mind; gritting my teeth, I put my heel down on top of that thought and crush it into dust.
“We’ll go,” Lucas says, but then Daphne hands him something and he lays it carefully on top of my desk. “She’d want you to have it.” His words are sad and heavy, but he doesn’t wait to see what kind of effect they have on me. He simply continues. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, I really did trust you. And I … thought there was something between the three of us.”
With that, he turns on his heels and, grabbing Daphne by the crook of her elbow, starts walking out of the office. Looking at me over her shoulder, Daphne offers me her parting words.
“Goodbye, Ares,” she whispers, closing the door behind her after she leaves.
I stay there, sitting and unmoving, the shadows of my office once more closing in on me. The silence covers the room like a heavy blanket, oppressive and solitary.
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath, reaching for what Lucas left on my desk. It’s a neatly folded sweater, and I open it up, arms stretched in front of me. My eyes fall on the Harvard logo printed on the front of the sweater, and my heart simply stops beating.
I would've recognized this sweater anywhere.
I bring it up to my face and press it tight against me, clenching my jaw as I feel tears stinging my eyes.
This was Joanna’s sweater. It was what she was wearing on my first day at Harvard, when the three of us met. I still remember the way she looked when she put it on in the morning, wearing nothing else as she got out of the bed.
I knew Lucas had been the one keeping it, but I never dared to ask him for it. As much as the hate we felt toward each other grew over the years, we always respected whatever the other felt toward Joanna.
You don’t use love as a knife.
Jesus, what the fuck am I doing? Sitting in my office like a miserable bastard, getting drunk in the dark and nursing my hate. I didn’t even want to hear what Daphne and Lucas came here to say. I just spew my hatred at them, the pain I felt drowning out everything else.
But the sorrow in her eyes as she spoke, her soft voice calling my name … and Lucas’ words … he thought I was the one betraying them.
Have I been played? Has Seymour pulled my strings and, just like some stupid fucking puppet, did I dance to his tune?
Trust me, I asked Lucas a few days ago. And he did trust me; I believe that.
Now’s my turn to trust him.
29
Daphne
Two.
That's how many weeks advance notice the Federal Reserve Bank of New York gives Carter Jeffries and Union Airlines to prepare themselves to testify in front of a full investigative committee. Of course, they named Lucas as the person who would testify on behalf of Carter Jeffries.
And they named me as the person who would carry the flag for Union Airlines.
It’s going to be a circus. A shit show. Pretty useless. More like a witch hunt than anything.
But we have to go.
To not go means that the Federal Reserve can place both Carter Jeffries and Union Airlines in positions where we’d go out of business. They could declare that Carter Jeffries, with its operations in money markets, is systemically important to the United States economy. That’s a fancy way to say “too big to fail," which is a fancy way to say increased regulatory oversight.
If we still don’t cooperate, the Fed could place us on a lending watch list. Which means that banks and other financial institutions that lend to us would face greater regulatory and financial oversight. All that means is that banks would stop lending to us. So they wouldn't be harassed by the Fed. Which means we’d go out of business without the ability to borrow money.
But even more damaging, the Federal Reserve could bring about financial crimes indictments against both companies if they wanted to and felt there was due cause.
That’s right.
This shadowy group of bankers controls most of the United States economy. And people have always said things about them, but I’d always just shrugged it off because it didn't affect me.
Until it did.
This shadowy, secret, cabal of bankers can bring about indictments that lead to the loss of business licenses by corporations that do business in the United States.
You know how you have a Social Security Number? Corporations have a FEIN. It’s registered with the IRS.
If we don't testify, they’ll take away the FEIN. Which means we would no longer be a corporation in the eyes of the government.
Killing us.
Destroying at least 300,000 jobs at Union Airlines. And at least 100,000 at Carter Jeffries. We wouldn’t be able to pay salaries because the bank accounts would be frozen. We wouldn’t be able to do anything.
They’re threatening at least half a million Americans. All to get Lucas and I to testify.
With two weeks to go.
One billion.
That’s how many dollars the government of the United States is now offering to purchase Union Airlines.
This is the revised bid that was delivered to my office 48 hours after the Federal Reserve called on Lucas and I to testify.
“One billion dollars?” Lucas asks, that night as I tell him over dinner. “That’s a steep drop.”
He’s understating the obvious, of course. For a government that was willing to pay $1.1 trillion to purchase the globe-girdling airline to now offer a paltry one billion dollars. It’s basically fuck you money.
“You know why Seymour is offering this, right?” I ask. Lucas looks at me and nods.
“He doesn’t think that Carter Jeffries will be around much longer to deliver any sort of counter proposal. That we won't be able to make much of any counter bid after the Fed is done with us.”
It’s a depressing thought.
“And Ares?” I ask, looking at Lucas. “What about Strong Capital?”
Lucas shrugs. “Seymour is assuming that Strong Capital won’t be in the running for the airline anymore. For the same reason that Ares is helping the government. And with no other company out there who made it to this round, once Carter Jeffries and Strong Capital are eliminated from consideration, all you have left is the government.”
They told me to not go up against the government. That you’d never win. That simple individuals stood no match to the power and might and soul-crushing ability of the nations institutions to just crush our spirit.
But I didn’t listen. Because I was Daphne Kane. I was the CEO extraordinaire.
Well, now I was paying the price.
Twelve.
That’s how many hours a day Lucas and I are spending preparing for testifying in front of the Fed.
What?
You thought we were just going to head on over and get crucified without putting up a fight. Honestly, hun, if that’s what you thought then you haven’t really gotten to know either Lucas or I at all. Because we would never do that. I don’t think Lucas for one moment considered throwing in the towel.
“At the heart of the matter is the basic fact that they don’t like the fact that you had sex with both the suitors for Union Airlines,” Vicky Ketchum is telling Lucas and I one afternoon during lunch. Vicky is my personal lawyer who is handling all matters about the Federal Reserve investigation as it pertains to me.
“What do you mean, babe?” I ask Vicky. She and I go way back. She was my big sister in my sorority and we used to be roommates. We used to get wild together—for a while we used to suck the same cock together whenever we had a guy. We would both use our mouths simultaneously and then bet how long he would last seeing us use our tongues on his cock. He’d explode in one of our mouths and
we’d swap the cum back and forth until he was hard again. If he was able to cum again then he was a keeper. Otherwise, we’d usually toss him out.
Now Vicky is a lawyer at Quinn Harris Stevens and looks at me with a studious look.
“It basically means that the only thing the government can really say is that you don’t fit the moral criteria to hold high office within your corporations. That your very presence creates a negative equity in your companies that destroys shareholder value.”
“And this is because we all had sex together?” Lucas asks incredulously.
Vicky shrugs. “The government can use any line of attack it wants. But this is the simplest, and easiest to prove. Namely because all they have to do is put Ares on the stand and get him to admit what everyone already knows happened. At that point, the Federal Reserve can take any action it wants, including revoking your FEIN, and then Union Airlines assets can be purchased for pennies on the dollar.”
It’s not a pretty picture going on in my head.
“So how do we stop them?” I ask.
“It’s going to take work and a lot of hours,” Vicky says, taking the check as it comes. “You might as well let me pick up lunch because of what I’m gonna have to bill you.”
Ten.
That’s how many times I know for certain that Ares has tried to contact us. When I say us, I mean either myself of Lucas. I’ve gotten one ring on my phone before the phone hangs up. Or an email that gets deleted before I read it.
I know that Ares is trying to reach out. And the one time I do get the phone before he hangs up, I don’t let the opportunity go.
It’s three days before I have to testify in front of the Federal Reserve.
“Ares,” I say into the phone. “Don’t hang up.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
“Listen, I don’t know what Seymour has told you, Ares,” I say into the line. I notice Lucas come behind me. “Don’t hang up, okay?” I ask.
I can hear his breathing. I can imagine him on the other end of the line. Probably drinking a scotch. Probably missing us. I can tell that he misses us. Because deep down, I know he loves us.
But maybe he doesn't realize how much we love him.
“Ares, don’t answer if you don't want, just listen okay?” I say, hoping he doesn't hang up. “I love you.”
Silence. Not even breathing now. Not even the faint tinkling of the ice in the cup that I thought I heard before.
“I love you so much. And, Lucas loves you too,” I say into the phone. “I know what happened between you two and I love that you found love. I love that the three of us can be comfortable with each other. That we can be together, whether all of us, or just two of us at a time.”
I can’t hear Ares and I hope he hasn't hung up.
“If you’re still there, please know that no matter what, Ares Strong, I will always love you. And Lucas will always love you, whether we have Union Airlines and Carter Jeffries or not. Please know that,” I say.
That’s all I hear. And then I hear a click as the line dies.
30
Lucas
The Federal Reserve Bank of New York. So much rides on the next few hours. Literally the fate of hundreds of thousands of jobs. I'm really not being overly dramatic here or anything. I'm being entirely serious. This is probably about the most serious meeting I've ever been to in my entire professional career.
I look over next to me and realize that at least I'm facing the single greatest challenge in my life with my head held high, and with the woman I love.
If only the man I love were next to us as well.
But sadly, he's not. He's going to be sitting across the table. As the fucking enemy. All because of our inability to communicate. We could've told each other how we felt and figured out how to work past our issues so long ago. But we didn't. And one person had to die.
But Ares and I not being able to discuss our feelings hasn't just hurt one person.
Now it's hurt the love of our lives.
And that I can't allow.
Ares may love her too, but I have to protect her. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that the sins of our past don't revisit themselves in the present.
That's what I tell myself as I walk into the massive double doors into the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. The press is already here, they're lining the steps and the photographers are in the lobby. There's no avoiding them so I simply nod to them and wait the few seconds for the flash bulbs to take the pictures.
I look around. I've been in here a whole bunch of times. I used to come here to deliver lectures a few years ago on the state of the economy and the direction of the markets. People used to listen to me then. Before my name was tarnished by a sex scandal.
"Penny for your thoughts?" a voice asks from right next to me and I turn around to see Daphne.
God, she's so beautiful. Her face is like that of an angel.
And that body. Jesus Christ.
She's wearing a tight black skirt. I smile to myself thinking about that juicy ass underneath that skirt. God, I want to pull that skirt down and see what color panties she's wearing. Take a cheek in both hands and squeeze.
"You ok?" Daphne asks me. "You look like you're somewhere else."
"I am," I tell her, smiling.
She rolls her eyes at me. "It's like I'm talking to Ares sometimes. Now you just need to say fuck every other word and it'll be like he's here with us," she says. I roll my eyes and we share a brief chuckle.
Standing at the door to the hearing room, about to go in and testify in front of an investigative body that may or may not revoke our business licenses and throw nearly half a million people out of work ... and we're sharing a morbid laugh.
"Shall we?" Daphne asks me. I nod. I take her arm and walk in.
The Federal Reserve Investigative Committee doesn't allow you to bring a lawyer or any form of outside counsel. That's why everything happens relatively quickly.
We sit at a table that's pointed toward a raised dais where a large number of people sit, flanking and providing support to the Federal Reserve Governor.
The room accommodates about a hundred and fifty people and it's filled up now with civilians and media alike. The press sit in the first two rows of seats right behind us.
"The Committee will come to order," a familiar voice calls out and I look up from my notes at the raised dais where the Federal Reserve Governors are sitting.
The voice seems familiar. It can't be.
I just need to see who's speaking. I cannot believe that they would allow...
"We're gathered here today to look into allegations of improper behavior between executives at Carter Jeffries and Union Airlines," the voice continues.
Enough people have sat down that I'm finally able to get a look at the person sitting on the raised dais.
It's Seymour Lee.
What the hell.
I clear my throat.
"Governor Baker," I say addressing myself to the Governor of the Federal Reserve District of New York. He's sitting in the center most seat of the raised dais. Seymour Lee sits next to him. "I was under the impression that this was a Federal Reserve Investigation. And not something that was being adjudicated by an outside party," I say nodding toward Seymour.
The two men look at each other.
I look at Daphne.
I know what's happening. Whatever is going on, Seymour has pressured the Federal Reserve Governor, Edward Baker, to give him the power to ask investigatory questions.
"Under the circumstances, Mr. Blake, I'm inclined to allow Mr. Lee to continue with his questioning as long as I feel appropriate, given his closeness to the matter," the Governor replies back with a sigh. I get the feeling he's not happy with his own answer.
"This investigation will continue Mr. Blake, and I will be the one asking the questions," Seymour says with an evil grin.
Fuck me.
There's nothing we can do now.
&
nbsp; When the judge is the one who wants to throw you in jail, how are you going to have any sort of expectation that he's going to play fair?
"If everyone will please quiet down, I would like to start by asking Mr. Blake to give his version of events surrounding the alleged sexual encounter that took place in the Boardroom of Union Airlines?" Seymour Lee begins.
If you're there at home right now shaking your head and wondering what the hell is going on, then you're not alone. I'm right there with you.
What kind of government starts holding investigations into the lives of its private citizens? In fact, you know what? That's exactly what I'm going to ask.
"What kind of government spends the taxpayer money to start investigating the lives of its private citizens?" I ask into the microphone, looking at Seymour Lee. His eyes gleam evilly, as if he were expecting this question.
"It becomes a question to the government whether deviant sexual practices were performed when the shareholders in two of the largest and systemically important corporations in the United States get defrauded," Seymour replies.
"And the esteemed ... interrogator believes that an intimate relationship now counts as fraud?" Daphne asks into her microphone.
I chuckle to myself. She was about to call him a Governor, since the dais is only supposed to be seating Governors of the Federal Reserve.
"You may address me as Special Counsel to the Governor, or as Special Investigator," Seymour says coldly. "And the shareholders are being defrauded when the sexual practices are so deviant that it shows a lack of judgment on part of the seller of Union Airlines."
That's the heart of it, isn't it?
It's not me that's being targeted.
It's not Ares.
This whole time. This entire spectacle.
It's because of Daphne Kane.
They're trying to take her down.
It all falls into place for me. Like seeing the full picture of the puzzle.
