Something that said ‘I’m done with your bullshit.’
Something that screamed cold-hearted murder and could hide bloodstains. Lots of bloodstains.
“Last time you had a run-in with Drake, you—”
“It won’t happen again. I’m just going for a friendly chat.”
“Bullshit.”
“You’re staying here.”
“Not if you’re going.”
“I need you to run Euphoria. To welcome the guests. To keep the goddesses safe.”
To keep Eleanor from other men. To protect her. To keep her on my shores.
“I’ll get Arbi to do that. He’s aware of the requirements of this place. I trust him.”
“I don’t.” I zipped up the army green duffel, uncaring that priceless suits were scrunched and stuffed in its depths. “You’re staying. I’m leaving. Call the pilots. I want to be airborne in thirty minutes.”
* * * * *
My fingertips pressed against the helicopter’s windows as the sky traded smoky dimness for coral spiels of dawn. Soft coral deepened to glowing scarlet, quickly losing its crimson in favour of golden sun.
We descended from sky to tarmac, landing at the congested airport of Jakarta.
Cal had arranged a private plane to get me to Manila, Philippines, before connecting with a first-class fare to Los Angeles and another private flight to San Diego. A diabolical mess of a journey.
I didn’t like visiting overpopulated cities. However, my other reason for not travelling much these days was it took so fucking long. Next thing I’d look at improving on would be air transportation.
There had to be a better way.
A faster way.
A teleport would be best.
It’d popped into my head as a joke but so had VR to start with. I’d had a kinky dream about a man stepping into a chamber where he could become anything he wanted and fuck whoever he desired.
That fantasy had become a reality.
Perhaps teleporting remained impossible, but it wouldn’t hurt to investigate other outlandish possibilities.
Unbuckling the five-point harness, I waited for the pilot to slide the fuselage open before hopping onto the already steaming tarmac. The sun had barely risen, yet the temperature on the black ground surrounding the hangars and airstrip pumped out heat.
I’d miss the mugginess—the tropical warmth that acted like a physical entity instead of an unseen element.
“This way, sir.” The co-pilot beckoned me to follow him. We didn’t have far to walk from one landing pad to another where a sleek silver jet waited.
I nodded in thanks and climbed the steps into the cream leather, chocolate piped interior. I hid my cringe. The thought of sitting on a cured animal hide repulsed me. I’d much rather pineapple leather or any of the other alternatives available these days, but society were slow to accept change, and the rich didn’t give a fuck.
A hostess in a matching uniform approached with an icy hand towel and a dewy bottle of water. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Thank you.” I pinned on a thin smile and sat in the oily embrace of a dead cow. Accepting the towel, I fanned it out and wiped my hands.
“We’re just waiting on final approval from the tower. Be ten to fifteen minutes before we can depart.” She bowed, her black hair tied neatly in a bun. “I apologise for the delay.”
“It’s fine.” Grabbing my laptop from my bag, I cracked open the screen, ready to draft an email giving the board one last chance. If they evicted my brother from my building, they could keep their jobs…and their heads. They had precisely three hours until I landed in Manila to comply. If they didn’t…well, I’d be in the market for a new board and possibly a burial site to farewell my brother.
I was no longer a runty kid who had no support or strength. Drake would no longer win against me. He hadn’t in a long time.
The helicopter co-pilot appeared with my duffel, smiling as he placed the bag on the chair next to me. “Safe travels, sir. We’ll look forward to your speedy return.”
“Appreciate the fast response getting me here.”
“Always.” His footsteps sounded on the aircraft steps as I returned my attention to a very strongly worded email. The hostess had vanished into the cockpit, and I soaked up the silence of being alone.
My thoughts left the realm of work and murder, settling back on my island, trespassing on a villa where a certain dangerous girl lay.
Eleanor would still be sleeping.
She would wake and wouldn’t be any wiser that I was no longer there to torment her.
The distance would be good for us. Cal would be there to keep any threats at bay. I could return to my life before she’d scrambled it.
She was due to serve in Euphoria in three days.
The travel alone would take me two days—there and back. That left me twenty-four hours to deal with this catastrophe and return. To interrogate the man who would be next to sample my greatest goddess. To slip elixir down her gorgeous throat and curse myself all over again.