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“This is ridiculous. The allegations. The testimony. The vitriol being spilled about an excellent businessman within the community. One woman! One! And the men sitting here now are willing to cut ties with a member of the Society that has not only been an asset to our organization but a contributing Master that has helped procure and train some of the finest Courtesans we have.”

The soft leather of my chair groaned as I relaxed against it, my expression unimpressed, my shoulders slack with disapproval. How many times must a man be told that to bring attention to our group is to be expelled without question? A half hour of my life was being wasted while Master Gregory rambled on over the misgivings of a body of men who cared little for his argument. I had half a mind to expel him as well, simply for believing that his opinions should merit my time.

I had every bit of a mind to flay him alive for even suggesting that the Courtesans Adam trained could be in the same league as mine. Gregory’s jowls shook with his furious rant, red anger kissing the skin of his cheeks, the loss of control embarrassing for a man who calls himself a Master. Beside him, Master Adam sat demurely, his posture shrinking, his eyes cast to any place where they would not meet our eyes. A fool and his money would always be parted when he couldn’t learn the most basic of facts that we are two different people dependent upon the woman we faced.

“Are there any men sitting in this room that can claim they’ve never made a mistake? That they’ve never done anything that could expose us in some small way?”

Dragging my gaze from man to man, a snail’s crawl of disgust from Master to Master, I was embarrassed for all of them and their bleeding moments of conscience, for their indecision over Adam’s unfortunate fate. My shoulders shook with silent laughter as I raised my hand to become the only man in the room who could see past

Gregory’s blatant histrionics to pass judgment on Adam’s blind faith. With whiplash inducing speed, Gregory’s head snapped my direction, his thin lips pulling into a critical line, his wrinkled suit bunching over his shoulders as his shirt fought to stay buttoned over the gut he’d acquired though his years of privileged life.

“Of course, you would raise your hand.” Eyes meeting mine in challenge, Gregory rolled his shoulders back to puff out his chest.

“I seem to recall a few dead bodies left in your path, Aiden. Masters and Courtesans both.”

A quirk at the corner of my lips betrayed my amusement at his ridiculous accusation. The reaction only painted scarlet anger with a masterful brushstroke across his gluttonous cheeks. Even his high forehead that stretched to the top of his skull in chase of his receding hairline was shaded the same crimson hue. “The bodies I’ll take credit for, but to claim I left them in my path-“

The room fell into a pregnant pause as my voice trailed off. Shaking my head, I relaxed against my seat, the creak of leather breaking the Stygian silence. “I believe any man at this table can attest that those who have died at my hands had it coming. And the bodies were disposed of in the most discreet of ways.”

Gregory laughed, chortled really, the jowls trembling as spittle flew over his thick lips. “I hardly call allowing a Master to be shot by your prized Courtesan in front of an entire audience discreet.”

My lips curled into a sinuous grin. Rebecca had been breathtaking on that night, her anger a tempest storm that only I could hope to tame. I wondered what Gregory would think if he knew of the bodies buried beneath the willow tree outside my office window. Speaking of discreet...

“That’s neither here nor there,” Anthony argued before I had the chance to respond. Although no longer a practicing Master, he still maintained ties to the Society, his wealth intricately weaved through the ongoings of an organization we both had invested in long ago.

“And irrelevant,” he added, his gaze meeting Gregory’s with a stunning patience only a man of his caliber could accomplish. In truth, Anthony no longer had a feather to be ruffled, not since he’d found love again in a woman who had once been as broken as him.

“The charges against Master Adam have nothing to do with death, yet have everything to do with acting in a manner that has jeopardized the secrecy of the Society as a whole. He revealed one of our Courtesans to a woman not associated with our group. That woman was then injured by the Courtesan. As a result of her response to those injuries, a lawsuit was threatened and it cost several million dollars to silence this woman. Her continued existence, at this time, threatens us all and must be remedied.”

Throat clearing three seats from Anthony, Master Paul interjected, “I’ll see to the woman’s continued silence. Per my sources she’s due for a vacation in the next two weeks. One from which she will not return.”

Gregory’s expression stretched into a satisfied smirk. “Well, there we have it. Problem solved.”

“Not quite,” I crooned, my gaze sliding Gregory’s direction to see the color deepen over his cheeks. He’d always hated me, but then jealousy has always been a temperamental beast. “The Society is owed not only recompense for the steps taken to remedy the situation with this woman who could testify against us, but is also owed answers regarding a Courtesan who is out of control.”

Squirming in his seat, Master Adam wouldn’t meet my eyes, his attention locked to a wall opposite where he sat. While he perused the pale grey color of the paint, all eyes turned to him, curious and awaiting a response.

“I mean, really, he caused bodily harm. And for what? Because a woman wanted to ride him? Have you turned him fully to the side of men, Adam? Made him believe that he has a say in anything that is demanded?”

I took the opportunity to study Adam’s tawny brown hair, the care he’d taken to style it in place. Cheeks sunken below stern cheekbones, his expression was aristocratic, yet his skin was sallow as a result of his fear. As usual, his suit was impeccable, a ten thousand dollar waste of fine fabric and tailoring that molded to his shoulders. It would be such a shame when blood spilled down the fashionable jacket and starched white shirt beneath.

“You owe us an answer, Adam.”

Leave it to Anthony to break the silence, his deep voice and smooth accent a pin that burst the bubble of morose expectation. Perhaps the patience I’d recognized in him only a minute before was now running thin. I could understand why; both Rebecca and Sera were waiting patiently where they’d been told to stay. One in the playroom awaiting instructions, the other in a guest bed. My shoulders shook with silent laughter. He gave Sera far too much comfort and rein for her to truly be what she should.

Yet, the woman had brought him back from a pit of despair that had been an acrid taste on my tongue, and for that I could withhold judgment of their ridiculous relationship.

Another squirm and Adam ceased his silence. “Christopher has been problematic since his procurement. It wasn’t my choice that he be selected as a Courtesan, however, as a favor to the Master who initially trained him, I took over when it seemed he was beyond reason. That bastard broke this particular Courtesan, but not in a way that’s fitting for our standards. There was nothing anybody could have done.”

Perhaps...

Although I liked to believe no person was beyond what a proper Master could groom into compliance, there were the few who, for mental health reasons of their own, were far beyond the reach of even me. I’d believed Sera to be one of those few, however Anthony had proven me wrong.

Sera had been my mistake, my error in judgment and the result of the arrogance of my youth. I would have forgiven Adam’s oversight if he was but a fledgling in the group, as I had been at the time of training Sera, but Adam had been a Master for thirteen years. It was long enough for him to recognize what carries potential and what should be deemed a lost cause.

The Master to whom Adam was referring, Jake Gillian, was no longer alive. Nature had taken him before we, as a group, had made a decision as to what to do with his unusual behaviors in his later years. The Courtesan, Christopher, from what I knew had been one of Jake’s last procurements, a man often chained in the dark because Jake had an issue admitting he swung both ways. It wasn’t that the Society looked down upon Jake’s interests. Several of the Masters kept both female and male at their disposal, but Jake couldn’t admit it to himself, and as such, had created a problem with Christopher.

Despite the circumstances, Adam had a duty to report the problem. I suspected he failed to do so only because he believed admitting to the failure of reconditioning Christopher would cause his reputation to be harmed. It was too bad he didn’t understand his reputation would be harmed even worse by his failure to report.

“That’s no excuse.”

Glancing across the table, I silently thanked Anthony for reading my mind and voicing it. His jaw ticked with frustration as he eyed Adam, his posture that of a regal man whose livelihood had been threatened. Slouching down in my leather chair, I thumbed the button of my phone, an image glowing on the screen of a lovely strawberry blonde not so patiently awaiting the attention of a man she’d submitted to many years ago. She hadn’t done anything in particular this morning to deserve a punishing hand, which given her typical behaviors was a miracle unto itself. Normally, the woman would have misbehaved several times before I’d had a chance to finish my morning coffee.

I smiled at the thought. Such a rebellious imp, that one.

“A decision needs to be made regarding Adam’s future with the Society as well as what is to be done with the Courtesan.” While Paul stated the obvious in a room of six Masters, I held my gaze to the woman currently bound to a Saint Andrew’s Cross, her eyes opening and tracking right to stare into the camera. She always knew when I was watching. Always.

I’d reminded her before leaving for this meeting that she was to keep her eyes closed. I’d also refused to blindfold her because tempting Rebecca was far too much fun. She was testing me now, teasing me, daring me to make good on the threat that came with her disobedience. My fingers curled into my palm. My heart a steady rhythm as my thoughts ran through a gamut of suitable corrections for her behavior.

A day without sight, perhaps. Or a week.

“What is your opinion, Aiden?”

Shrugging a disinterested shoulder, my eyes remained affixed to Rebecca. I was cataloging every blink, every smirk of those lips. Keeping a list of every infraction so that I could address them, one by one, once this meeting was over. I briefly wondered if there would be a way to punish those lips without damaging them.

“Aiden,” Anthony prodded.

Glancing up, I blinked my eyes, once, twice, annoyed at the interruption. “Kill them both. Problem solved.”

A moment of utter silence and then, “How dare you suggest we kill a Master for what should be considered a minor crime?” Gregory’s voice boomed through the room.

The table of Masters exploded in argument, my attention returning to a woman who was now squirming in place, her long fingers curling down toward the shackles at her wrists. If they kept this up for much longer, Rebecca would fall asleep. And she wasn’t as much while groggy.

Across from me, Anthony cleared his throat, my eyes drifting to his face to find one dark brow arched in question. I fought not to roll my eyes before turning off my phone and setting it down on the table. “Quiet!”

Five heads turned my direction. Straightening out my sleeve cuffs, I paused to keep from standing from my seat and strangling the idiot myself just to get this infernal meeting over with.

There was no emotion to my voice when next I spoke, every word cold and calculated. What Adam didn’t understand as he set quivering like a terrified toddler in his seat was that there were fates worse than death for a man like him. “The rules of the Society are clear. Written in fucking stone as if Moses himself climbed the Mount to have them chiseled. Exposing our group in any way, shape or form results in one of two consequences: death-“ Pausing again, I locked eyes with Gregory before dragging my gaze to the pissant beside him. “Or requisition.”

As I knew he would, Adam flinched at the second option.

“All assets will be seized to serve the organization. All titles will be stripped. All privileges revoked. And if you hobble away a beggar with the idea that you might attempt retribution by opening your mouth to expose us further, you’ll hope for an easy death by the time we find you to silence you.”

Finally lifting his head, Adam met my gaze, his eyes rimmed red. I smirked. “Only a little bitch allows himself to cry, Adam. No wonder you couldn’t handle a Courtesan who is apparently out of fucking control.”

Adam’s voice cracked over his response. “I’m not a little bitch, I’m a Mas-“

“Former Master, you should say. And dependent upon which choice you make, you’re now either a corpse or a charity case. Which will it be?”

Gregory interjected. “Must the rules be so harsh?”

“They’re harsh for a reason,” Anthony reminded the group, his tone a picture of practiced calm. “If we go soft now, what stops the next person from exposing us further? Do you all want to spend the rest of your lives in prison?”

Silence fell, each man reminded that their necks were on the line.

“Death,” Adam whispered. Lifting his head, he met all of our eyes, remembering for once that he had a spine and a set of balls. “Death is better than the streets.”

Nobody dared to break the quiet following his statement. Except for me. I dared. With a chipper voice, in fact.

“Excellent. Now that we have it settled, I’d like to move on with my day.”

Standing from my seat, I felt a hand grip over my arm, looked up to find Anthony reaching across the table to stop me. “We still have one last issue to address. Specifically, what to do with Christopher.” Our eyes met. “Two bullets in his brain and a shallow grave. Are you serious right now?”

The corner of his lip quirked. “Sit, Aiden. We should discuss this.” “Do you have a better idea?”

Mouth pulling into a sly grin, eyes glimmering in a manner I didn’t appreciate one tiny little bit, Anthony answered, “Actually, I do.”

I retook my seat, willing Anthony dead. Unfortunately his head failed to slam against the table with a satisfying thump.

Turning to the group, his words were as smooth as ever, his tone thoughtful. “We have before us a wonderful opportunity to put the ever endearing Master Aiden to the test.”

“I don’t train men.”

He lifted a finger to silence me without bothering to glance in my direction.

My eyes narrowed on the finger, but this was Anthony, after all, so I would let him continue.

Satisfied with my silence, he explained, “As we’ve heard for the past few years, Aiden believes he has mastered another Master, that he has broken a woman who, in every sense, could learn to train Courtesans herself.”

All heads turned my direction. All eyes on me. Meanwhile, I was busy determining exactly how I would fit Anthony’s body under my favorite willow tree. The son of a bitch would pay for this.

It wasn’t surprising when Gregory, the man with jowls that would make even a bulldog jealous, spoke next. “Now that you mention it, Anthony, I do recall Aiden’s claims.”

Perhaps Anthony would appreciate a grave closer to the lake...

“Aiden,” Anthony’s voice barely disguised his enjoyment, “what do you say to allowing Rebecca to try her hand?”

My fingers toyed my phone over the surface of the table, my eyes locked to the black screen. “Are you asking me to allow my Courtesan to fuck another man?”

Deep laughter from the end of the table, Paul’s voice booming in response. “As if you haven’t punished her several times already by handing her over to Owners so they could have their fun. As if you didn’t command she fuck another Master in front of all of us when you first trained her.”

My gaze met Anthony’s, unflinching despite the situation he’d created. “It would be her choice.”

He didn’t answer immediately, but when he finally spoke through a smile designed to entice, his words were as sharp as a knife slicing my jugular. “Since when do you give your Courtesan a say in anything? Have you gone soft?”

Returning his smile, I knew why he’d made the suggestion. Payback’s a bitch, and after the game I’d played on him during his training of Sera, he believed he could even the score. “I did you a favor.”

His smile widened. “As I am doing a favor for you now.”

Silence, and then, “You have a funny definition of favor.”

Anthony’s eyes gleamed. “You’ll have to forgive me. Seeing as English is my second language, I thought it best I copy the definition from your book.”

Bastard. It’s what made me like Anthony so much. He was a pale imitation of me.

“Fine,” I answered, settling back in my seat as if this request was nothing more detrimental than a bum begging for a dollar. “Have Christopher dropped off to my house after Adam is dealt with. I’ll prepare Rebecca for what’s to come.”

Standing, I walked from the room, taking a minute to pause behind Adam and lay my hand over his shoulder. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

“Fuck off,” he spat, the response improving my mood. I may have to allow Rebecca to train a Courtesan, and I may be in a position where I have to take over when she fails, but I wasn’t losing my life, not like that dumb fuck.

Leaving the men at the table, I walked away without glancing back, my jaw ticking with frustration, my palm itching to slap the ass of a woman who made it an art form to defy me.