Chapter 5

𝔸 𝕞𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥

Eve's POV (𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪)

"So Mrs Matthew, how would you feel, if I told you your husband was being blackmailed for something he didn't do?"

She gave a pause, then a shrug.

"I'll ask what he was being blackmailed for." She replied, with a well-calculated tone to her words.

I smiled in response.

We were in my office and comfortably seated at the far corner of the room, where my fluffy red couch was placed. I only took guests who were on the wrong side of my temper or about to get dismantled there. I needed them comfortable, like a goat to slaughter.

Picking up my pack of cigarettes, I pulled out a stick and placed it between my lips.

"I just told you he didn't do it. Why ask what he was being blackmailed for? Except you know something I don't. Which begs the question of what you think your husband is capable of."

I paused for a bit, letting the obvious question sink in. When she decided to play dumb, I picked up the bottle of scotch from the posh stool between us and poured the liquid into the wine glasses - which were patiently waiting to be used. Picking up one of the liquors, I handed it to her.

"What do you think your husband is capable of, Beatrice?" I tried again, directly this time. She loved playing games. And I, being a master of deception, could have very well indulged her. Unfortunately for both of us, I was on a tight schedule.

She took the glass from my hands and took a sip of the brown liquid before rasping, "He is a politician. Go figure."

When I sent her a knowing look, she rolled her round brown eyes at me, and added with a sigh, "Look, I couldn't care less about my husband's dealings. He doesn't tell me what he does or when and how he does it. So why should I care?"

"You got pissed, didn't you?" I asked, ignoring her last question. "You felt abandoned and betrayed, right?"

"I don't know what-" She began, but I raised a finger to the air, fished out a lighter from the inside of my blazer and lighted up my cigarette. I was so due for a treat.

"You are gonna call off your whores, Beatrice." I declared deliberately, "Or your high school sex tape will be all over the internet."

Her eyes widened into saucers. "What the hell are you--"

"You have five minutes," I added, cutting short whatever bullshit she was about to spill.

Beatrice looked like a deer caught in headlights. What was she thinking? That I had called her here to play mind games? Or that I wasn't on to her? I couldn't blame her for underestimating me. She was clueless as to what she stepped into.

After a minute, I nodded towards the pad that was in front of her. "Go on, pick it up and make the call. Remember, five minutes."

"How can you help that bastard!" She finally cried! Eyes wide in fury and frustration. "You are aware of everything he's done to me. After all the shit I've been through I deserve-"

"I don't give a damn about what you deserve." I thundered, "You are not my client, Beatrice, your husband is." Taking an intense drag of my cigarette, I tutted, "Tick Tock Beatrice."

"I will not! I will not let this die like this! I will not let him get away with--"

"Rita, send the tape," I commanded a very eager Rita, who had been waiting patiently for my order at the other end of the room. Standing to my feet, I stared down at senator Mathew's wife. My time was too precious for this crap.

"We are done here," I announced in a final tone and attempted to move away.

"No, no, no! Please don't. I - 'll call them off." She begged, panic evident in her voice. I smiled to myself. Why were they too easy to break? Waving my left hand at Rita, I settled on the couch once again and watched as Beatrice picked up the tab and dialled.

"Roma, pull out. Delete all the videos and send me your account details. Your job is done." Beatrice gritted to the lady at the other end of the phone. After some seconds of murmuring, she placed the tab on the couch beside her and mumbled, "It's done. Can I leave now?"

"Yes, you can Beatrice. Thanks for your cooperation. I'll hold on to your sex tape, in case you decide to play a fast one." I said, ever so lightly, with a sinister smirk plastered on my face.

"Fuck you, Eve." She cursed bitterly, anger shining in her eyes. "You're welcome, Beatrice." I chuckled in response. "One more thing, if you ever need anything fixed, like your marriage, you can come to me. I'll destroy him for you, in a far more satisfying way."

She gave me a look, then without sparing me a second glance, stood up and stormed out of the room. I picked up the tab she used and reclined on the couch with a sigh. How I so loved my job. Clicking call history, I saved Roma's number.

"How did you know?" I heard Rita ask. I had completely forgotten she was in the room because I had been too busy enjoying my debate with Beatrice, which had been a complete waste of my time, but fun nonetheless.

"I always know Rita," I replied, before picking up my untouched glass of Scotch. "Number one rule, never downplay the power of a scorned woman. You'll learn rule number two soon enough." Placing the glass to my lips, I took It all in one gulp and slammed the glass on the stool. Rita wisely stayed silent, not bothering to give a remark. But that only lasted for five seconds.

"You have a new client, " She announced a little too excitedly, and Rita hardly got excited about a client except she was hot and female.

"Handle it. You deserve a treat." I said before rising from the couch and began heading for the door. It was time to take a break.

"No, you don't understand. He's specifically asking for you." That stunted my strides to the door.

"He?" I asked, with my back to her.

"Yes he, and he is freaking hot and extremely rich. Just the way you like them."

I turned, still uninterested. Why she was so excited was beyond me. How hot exactly was he to get my gay PA all hot and bothered? "Find out everything you need to know about him and let me know. And Rita, you have no idea how I like them. Don't ever assume anything."

She looked at me then, eyes glazed over. Seems like I just turned her on. Rita always loved a show of strength. Poor thing. "Okay Eve. I won't."

"Good. I hope you heard what I said about the client?" I asked because I knew Rita.

"That's the thing, there is nothing to his name. I've been searching through every database known to man but came up with nothing. The guy is practically a ghost." She said, furiously punching the life out of her keyboard.

I sighed.

"Then how the hell did you know he was rich, Rita? I thought I told you looks can be deceiving-"

"He just wired five million dollars into the company's bank account. He is rich! " Rita interrupted with a shriek. She knew better than to interrupt me while speaking and the realisation hit her seconds after she was done talking. "I'm sorry, Eve." She hurriedly hissed, her eyes wide with the uncertainty of what I might do.

"Get him an appointment for tomorrow, " I said, ignoring her plea as I continued to the door. I was going to handle her disrespect later.

"He is already downstairs Eve," Rita muttered, anxiety lacing her voice.

"What?" I thundered, stopping on my tracks again. Rita flinched. "Who the hell said he could come into my establishment without an appointment?"

"He just showed up a few minutes ago. I didn't even know he--"

"What the hell is his name?" I barked, not wanting to hear her silly excuses right now. It seemed I would have to take matters into my own hands just to teach the fool a lesson. He had no idea who he was dealing with.

"He says his name is Damien."

I took heavy strides to Rita and bent over her to look into her laptop. "Where is he?" I implored and she looked over her shoulder at me.

"Are you o--"

"Just show me his freaking face!" I hissed, not in the mood for her sentimental bullshit.

She clicked the reception camera and a figure was shown sitting on the visitor's couch. "Zoom in," I whispered and she did.

I studied the face of the attractive young man waiting in my reception. I knew every damn billionaire, business tycoon and politician in the continent. Why didn't I know him?

"Send him in," I barked, then went around my desk and settled on my chair.

A mysterious, rich, good looking guy was in trouble. What were the odds? whatever this Damien was bringing, I couldn't wait to find out.