His Obsession Page 6

  “Scientists found that eating a fatty breakfast ramps up your metabolism throughout the day.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “I don’t know…”

  Really, though, it smelled delicious. The salty and oil scents wafting through the air and the crackle of the eggs and bacon against the skillet left my mouth watering. But I didn’t want to seem over-eager, as if I couldn’t contain myself to scarf it all down.

  “Nonsense,” he said. “Be a good guest and eat up. You need your energy.”

  He bent his head down to touch mine and inhaled my scent.

  “Especially after last night.”

  He took the eggs and bacon from the skillets with a spatula, and served them on a perfectly white ceramic dish, ornamented with intricate vine-like designs.

  I took the fork knife he had wrapped in the napkin and cut a piece from the eggs.

  It was so mouth-watering and yet so simple. The salty fried taste in my mouth made me relax and enjoy the meal, in a way I haven’t been able to in a while.

  Armand sat down in front of me, putting down another plate with some fried baby tomatoes, still together on their vine.

  I stared at his face. His stubble was trimmed down and his hair was styled like he was ready for a photoshoot, not breakfast with me. But it was so effortless, it was like he woke up like that.

  “You’re not eating it?” Armand said.

  I realized he caught me staring. I forgot I was holding a fork with a piece of bacon just inches away from my mouth like a goof.

  “Huh? I was just…” I stammered.

  “You were just what,” Armand said, keeping his eyes on me, as he sat back and chewed his food.

  “I…”

  He twisted his lips in a wry grin. He knew exactly the hold he had on me.

  “You look like you want something else to eat,” he said, after taking a sip of orange juice.

  I just blushed at his words.

  “I do, too,” he said. “You’d be great for desert.”

  I felt the heat rush from between my legs and up my arms, and the fork I held shook slightly. My face was flush and I took a sip of the orange juice to cool down.

  I had to cool myself down, I remembered. I had to ask Armand – somehow – about what had happened.

  “After we…you know, outside the club –” I said, changing the subject.

  “After we fucked with incredible passion, you mean?” Armand interjected.

  I had to catch my breath and gather my concentration again.

  No man had ever spoken to me so openly, boldly about his own sexuality and what he wanted.

  He wasn’t afraid of the power it had. He could be direct in ways I always thought was improper. But I couldn’t resist how it turned me on.

  “After we…did it,” I said, not ready to speak the same way did, “where did you go?”

  “Why do you need to know that?” Armand said.

  “I’m just wondering,” I said, trying to prod too far. “The cops came by after, looking for a suspect involved in a shooting at the club.”

  Armand didn’t say anything and patiently cut the bacon on his plate.

  “I had some other business to attend to,” he said.

  “At midnight?” I said, slightly surprised at his vagueness.

  “Yes,” Armand said, taking another sip, then setting the glass down. “My work is around the clock. That’s how the media world works.”

  'That’s how the media world works?' As if I didn’t know that.

  I was reminded of the fact that he still didn’t know I was part of that world, too, as a journalist.

  Or maybe he didn’t think that was something a girl like me could be capable of doing.

  He still didn’t ask me what I did.

  But if I told him…

  If I told him I was, he’d never trust me. Just like he had to fight the other media companies against him, he might think he’d have to fight me, keep me away.

  But how long could I keep this charade up? And what did he know about Britney, about her work at Global Eye as a journalist like me?

  “They’re still looking for the shooter,” I said. “They instituted a gun-check at the club now.”

  “Every citizen has a right to protection,” he said, curtly, not looking at me.

  “Yes, of course,” I said, not wanting to tick him off. “But the girl who was killed at the club…she was someone I knew. A friend, kind of”

  He set his fork and knife down on the plate, and looked at me silently.

  “That is unfortunate,” he said, flatly.

  He stood up, stacked the plates, and carried them to the sink.

  “Sorry for your loss,” he said, turning on the water and washing the dishes.

  “Thank you,” I said, quietly.

  Something wasn’t right, I thought.

  He was cold when I brought it up. Like it was only some words from a chattering woman who was taking up his time with frivolous stories.

  “Are you finished eating?” he asked.

  “Yes, sorry,” I said, “I’ll bring the dishes.”

  “Leave them,” he said.

  “No, it’s OK, I’ll help –“

  “Leave them,” he said again, sternly.

  “OK,” I said under my breath.

  My phone vibrated. I had several missed calls from Philip. The text message he just sent me was typical unhinged Philip:

  “Janet, stop dilly-dallying and call me immediately. We have a meeting with the big boss and I need you to stop goofing around and get here now. CALL ME!!!". And then he ended the text with a few emojis with angry devil faces.

  I looked up from my phone and saw that Armand was staring at me. His phone was out, too, and his face had become more tense than before.

  “You need to leave now,” he said, emotionlessly. “I have some other business to attend to.”

  “OK,” I said meekly. I looked in his eyes to see if there was any care there, any sense that maybe he wanted me to stay.

  But there was nothing. Just his firm look.

  “My driver will take you home,” he said, turning back around, and heading to his room.

  My heart strained at his coldness. Was it because I checked my phone in front of him? Or was he just…

  Tired of me?

  My mind shot back to the night at the club when I first saw Armand and the beautiful women trying to flirt with him. I couldn’t really compete with those girls. Maybe he had his fill of me, just like he had with them.

  I followed Armand into his room to get my clothes and bag and saw him sitting on the bed, typing on a computer.

  “Frederick will be waiting for you outside in the limo. Just give him the address,” Armand said, eyes focused on the screen.

  I nodded, but it didn’t look like he saw me.

  It was clear he didn’t want to have anything to do with me. He didn’t even know where I lived: “give Frederick your address.”

  I changed into my clothes and took my bag and stamped out of his apartment. I slammed the door shut and pounded down the stairs.

  Good riddance to this place.

  I opened the door and saw a polished black limo parked outside. The driver rolled down the window.

  “Ms. Janet?” he called out.

  I didn’t answer and opened the backdoor and threw my stuff inside.

  “The address, please, miss,” Frederick the driver said. The whole time he didn’t look back at me. His delivery was so ordinary, I figured he had to do this all the time to whichever women Armand felt like taking home.

  I gave him my home address but stopped halfway. In my frustration at Armand I had forgotten that Philip had called me to go to the office. So I instead gave the Global Eye address to Frederick.

  I didn’t notice I was crying until I heard a few tears drop on the leather seat.

  Chapter 17

  It was too much for me to handle.

  Armand didn’t give a shit about me.

  I had nev
er felt any kind of connection before like I did with him, physically, emotionally. But he had burned it all up, as fast as it arrived.

  It was nothing to him.

  Like a game.

  It was just another small victory for him, just like his other battles and conquers against other companies.

  Another tear fell on the leather with a snap, and I put my hand down on the seat and rubbed them away.

  I couldn’t mope around like this though.

  Philip had called me, and was going to expect some answers.

  If I didn’t harden myself he’d make a fool out of me in front of the big boss.

  Worse, he’d kick me off the story.

  Or even fire me.

  I could see it now.

  “Insufficient performance. Employee lacked work-ethic and was unable to see assignment to completion. Put her personal affairs ahead of business.”

  No.

  I wasn’t going to let that happen.

  I got out of the limo and craned my head up the length of the Global Eye building.

  Frederick drove the limo away. It hurt, even though Armand wasn’t inside. It was like he left with it, as well.

  But I had to go on. It was like the building’s very size was trying to intimidate me, but I didn’t care.

  I’d show Philip what was what.

  My phone buzzed. Philip texting me again.

  “Get in here now. Meeting room. 30th floor. Elevator code 9X2V.”

  I had never been on the 30th floor. It was reserved for the CEO and other executives. That’s where the discussions steered the company went, away from us regular workers. This was way more serious than I had expected.

  I stepped inside the double glass doors and past the vacant reception hall and to the elevator. I keyed in the special code and pressed the 30th floor button and held my breath. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t think of what to prepare. All my psyching myself seemed to be left outside once the elevator doors closed.

  I stepped out at the 30th floor. It was unlike the other floors in the building. Right outside the elevator was a security guard and a secretary in a white blazer behind an ivory desk.

  “I’m here to talk to Philip,” I stammered.

  The secretary just nodded and reached under her desk to press a button.

  To my right a door swung open and she motioned for me walk in.

  An older man in a suit, with a lean, tanned face and short white beard sat at the head of the long oak table. His eyes were narrowed on a paper he had pulled out from a dossier.

  Suddenly the door shut behind me.

  I heard a whisper.

  “Damn it, how can you be so late, Janet?”

  Philip pulled away from my ear, fidgeting with his hands and pacing on his heels. He dampened the sweat beading on his forehead with his shirt sleeve and pulled out a chair for me to sit.

  He sat down to my right and opened a dossier as well, then turned to me.

  “Janet, this is Maximilian Stone, CEO of Global Eye Media. Mr. Stone, this Janet, the journalist assigned to the Armand Silver story.”

  Maximilian put the paper he was holding back in the dossier and looked at me.

  “Janet, Philip has been telling me that you’ve been having difficulty getting access to Armand. Is this true?”

  Gosh, Philip, I thought. Way to throw me under the bus. Leave me to try to get information out of the notorious social chameleon that is Armand Silver without any help.

  “Actually,” I said, giving a sharp glance to Philip. “I was able to meet with Armand, yesterday.” 'And this morning, too' I was about to finish saying, but then caught myself.

  “Ah, good,” said Maximilian, tapping his index fingers together.

  “But she hasn’t sent any formal reports to me yet,” interrupted Philip.

  Maximilian looked at me curiously.

  “Armand Silver is very…guarded,” I said. “He protects his privacy after all his legal battles and the certain stories published on him in other papers and in our own at Global Eye. Therefore, I’ve been more cautious and patient in my approach.” I took a sip from the glass of water in front of me. “But I assure you, progress is being made, and is certain, with a little more effort and…charm on my part,” I lied. He just kicked me out – for good – this morning. But no way I’d let Philip get the satisfaction of watching me fail, especially in front of the freaking CEO.

  Maximilian stood up from his chair, and walked slowly with his hands clasped behind him, staring at the wall when he paused.

  “You are indeed charming, Ms. Rose,” he said, looking at me. “However, I am not sure you are aware of the severity of the story to which you’ve been assigned.”

  He turned around and looked out the glass behind him.

  “Philip,” he said. “Please pass the dossier to Ms. Rose.”

  Philip glared at me and slid the dossier towards me.

  “As you should know, Ms. Rose, Armand Silver is a controversial figure. There have been many rumours of his involvement in bribery, blackmail, corruption, tax evasion, the list goes on. But nothing has yet been proven. Concrete evidence linking him to criminal activity is lacking. Please open the dossier”

  I looked through the papers inside the dossier. It was mostly stuff I had heard about Armand. But these were internal Global Eye documents. They weren't from other newspapers or any other organizations.

  "Mr. Silver had been investigated in the past," continued Maximilian. "However, the case was thrown out of court due to insufficient evidence. We also believe that Armand’s media empire played a role in manipulating the facts and public’s perception."

  Maximilian looked back at me.

  “But…but what do you want me to do?” I asked.

  “The police clearly cannot handle him," said Maximilian. "Law enforcement cannot get a hold of him. Who knows if Armand is controlling them behind the scenes. But if someone can get closer to Armand, they could obtain critical information that could finally corroborate everything we’ve found so far.”

  “I understand,” I said, trying to hide my nervousness. This just got way more real than I was expecting.

  “Yeah, but she hasn’t actually submitted anything concrete to us, so how can you expect anything from her?” said Philip, as if I wasn’t in the room.

  Maximilian turned and glared at Philip, and put his hand forcefully on the table.

  “Do NOT interrupt me,” Maximilian said.

  Philip nodded and put his head down, pretending to take notes on the papers in the dossier.

  “Armand rejects anyone we have thrown at him,” continued Maximilian. “But if you’ve been able to actually meet with him in person, that’s more than most have ever accomplished. He sees through people easily. Possibly a result of him being such a damn good liar himself.”

  Maximilian sat back down in his chair at the head of the table.

  “Janet, you must get close to him. Become his friend. His confidant. His..." Maximilian didn't finish the sentence, leaving the conclusion suggestively up to me. "He's hiding something," Maximilian said. "There's something he's burying. I have my own suspicions based on what we've found. There's a dark history. But we needed a better way in.”

  I looked at Philip, as if to see if he was hearing what I was hearing.

  This is basically being a spy.

  There’s no way this is legal.

  "You are our way in, Janet," said Maximilian.

  I remember even that the United Kingdom newspaper, The Blue Sun, got in big trouble for doing the same kind of thing to someone they were writing about.

  What the hell was I going to say?

  To the CEO of my company of all people.

  “If it’d help protect people from Armand and help achieve justice” I said, trying to hide the waver in my voice, “then it’s necessary.”

  My chest was rising and falling under my vest and I wondered if they could see me.

  I wondered if Armand could see me, if
he’d forgive me for saying that.

  Well, I said to myself, forget about him. His whole ‘empire’ used deception. I realized I might have to use it myself, as long as I don’t compromise who I am.

  “Good,” said Maximilian, doubtless thinking about the juicy information I could get him from Armand. “I’m glad you agree. We will be sure to reward you well for your work if you succeed. There will be no more of the toil on the lower floors and trivial assignments for someone at your calibre.”

  I bit my tongue and nodded slightly. Philip was staring at me the whole time but I didn’t bother looking at him.

  “When will you see him next?” asked Maximilian.

  “To be honest, Armand requested a brief day or so to be on his own,” I lied. “He said he had some important business to attend to.”

  Maximilian grunted.

  “Tonight, you will go to the nightclub called Power. We have gathered information from an inside source that Armand will be attending it tonight. There you will make him comfortable and…” he looked at me slyly, “’charm’ him. And anything else you and your womanly nature see fit.”

  I wanted to throw the glass in front of me at him for insinuating something like that about my character, but I knew that’d be dumb.

  But my anger turned into confusion when I realized he said I had to go to the nightclub called Power.

  “Power,” I said. “Do you mean that…BDSM club?”

  “Yes,” said Maximilian. “A haven for sickos and the deranged like Armand.”

  Under the table, I balled my fist on my thigh at his words.

  “Take care while you are there,” he continued. “But don’t forget your purpose in trying to find him.”

  “Of course,” I said. “I will do my best.”

  “Good,” Maximilian said. “That is all to discuss.” He picked up the folder and confidently walked out, leaving me alone with Philip.

  “Way to suck up to the big boss,” Philip said.

  “I didn’t see you doing any of the talking,” I said without looking at him.

  His face reddened and he picked up his folders and left the room.

  My hands relaxed from the fists I had tightened them into and I took a huge breath and sat back in my chair.

  Me, going to Power?

  That place was way too extreme.

  I mean, I’ve only heard rumors of what goes on there: dungeons, whips and chains, even cages. Places where elite business men go to get the only kind of satisfaction they desire.