“Good,” he says. “Let’s get some air.”
Behind me, Van Wyk has Vicky. I don’t look back. She’s being escorted by a dead man, but if he touches her, he’ll die slowly.
Fournier leads me out onto a decking that rings the lodge. To one side, a hot tub embedded into the floor bubbles with water, steam rising. A balcony offers a view over a forest, the lake to our side. I take it all in automatically, brain working overtime, my anger cold and driving me. I’m grateful to it; I need every aspect of my wits for this.
“There are fifty-two members of the Company, not counting the few women we have,” Fournier says, walking to the railing and gazing out over it. “I’ve fucked the wives of forty-nine of them.” He gives me a side glance, a self-deprecating smile, and a shrug of one shoulder. “It’s a perk.”
“The other three?” I ask, taking the prompt.
“Four now,” he corrects, “including yourself.” He holds my gaze with something like respect. “Nearly everyone says no at first. It’s the part I like most, watching them trade their pride for their own wellbeing. Offering up their women to save themselves. That tells you a lot about a man, doesn’t it?”
He pauses, scrutinizing my expression. I work hard to give him nothing back, even as I consider his words.
“To answer your question,” he continues, “of the three men before you that chose the knife and held to it, two of them are now among my most trusted inner circle. The other is dead—along with his wife.” He tilts his head. “Which path will you follow, I wonder?”
I raise my hand to my mouth, sucking the blood from the deep cut on my finger. The metallic taste is grounding, a reminder of the stakes in play and the fragility of life.
He watches my little performance, reading it as the price of what he just put me through, the debt he has accrued. And he gives me a nod, as if acknowledging it.
“There are no rules for men like me,” he says, taking my action and silence as some kind of answer. “With the wealth I have, I can do whatever I want.” He waves a hand like it’s all beneath him. “I can have any woman I see. Have been able to since I made my first millions. Hell, half of them throw themselves atme. But none of it compares to fucking another man’s wife for my own amusement.”
He says it perfectly rationally, without any hint of self-delusion or mania. Like he’s explaining why he can buy groceries.
But he won’t be touching Vicky.
I’m curious if he’s had Amelia, or whether Van Wyk is excluded because he’s the one holding the knife.
He walks off down the decking, leading me into the gardens beneath, monologuing as we go. “This Company is built on loyalty, Alexander. It’s the only way it can work.”
“What sort of loyalty do you engender by taking a man’s wife?”
Fournier smiles. “If a man agrees, he soon rationalizes it as commitment. On the rare occasion he doesn’t cave”—a gesture of his hand encompasses me—“well, then he shows his weakness. Even the most successful of men respond best when suitably motivated, don’t they?”
“Ruling by fear?” I ask. “That’s hardly loyalty.”
“Ruling byincentive,” Fournier corrects. “You know what you can gain through success, and nowIknow how to motivate you if you fail.”
He pulls off an early spring flower from a rosebush, crushing it between his fingers and letting the petals fall. It’s an idle act as we walk, not some meaningful statement.
“I won’t fail,” I say, because it’s expected. He’s assuming I mean business; I’m referring to somethingelse entirely.
He pauses, turning to me. “And I will watch with interest. Men like you are a fraction of thefractionthat we’ve selected for the Company. Men that say no to me are few, Alexander. I always find that intriguing.” He pulls a business card from his pocket and hands it to me; it’s blank, save for a number. “Should you encounter any blockers on your path, drop me a message. I’ll make them go away.”
“Thank you.” I put the card inside my blazer, knowing I’ll never use it.
“Now, shall we talk about Victoria?”
It’s such a casual announcement that it takes me a moment to make the shift. I go still, then adopt what is hopefully a look of mild curiosity. “Yes?”
Fournier starts walking again. “You remember Origin Engineering, I assume.”
“Of course.” It was the acquisition I did where Vicky and I first met in the arbitration.
“She was meticulous in her research. Very impressive, for a woman so young.” He glances across at me to check my reaction.
“Indeed,” I say lightly. “If their legal team had given her free rein, it would’ve taken us another week to close.”
Fournier chuckles, then sobers. “She didn’t stop at Northbridge, you know. She explored Cadrion, found Apex Advanced, dug around in Sentinel Risk, and even spent more time than I appreciated investigating Armitage and Calder.”
