Page 37 of Brutal Prince

“Yeah, maybe.” He took a sip of beer, served in a glass, not a plastic throwaway like the restaurants I was familiar with, and wiped the froth from his lips with the back of his hand.

It wasn’t going to work. Hoodwinking the watcher and peeling his mask off could cause all sorts of problems. However, I was eager to see the face of someone who was feeding into the deadly circle. If these elitist entitled Platinum members weren’t holding rotting meat in front of the beast, then it wouldn’t exist. It’s that simple.

“Vanderbilt said he wants us to practice our performance,” he stated after taking another sip of beer.

I had to laugh because it sounded like a really bad coercion technique to get a girl into bed. Except I knew he was right. The client refused to pay because it was so bad and my school fees weren’t paid.

Which raised an interesting question, “What are you getting out of all this?” looking him directly in the eyes. “Apart from sex which you can get from anywhere.” I tried to hold back the suspicion in my voice, but it seeped through anyway.

He sat uncomfortably with the question for a few moments, wriggling in his seat and taking sips of beer. “To protect you.” The rehearsed answer.

“You must be getting paid something by the society for manipulating me to have sex with you in room 23.”

He ran his thumb along the rim of his glass, avoiding my eye.

“Well?” I prompted him.

“I can’t talk about it,” he finally answered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t talk about it.”

“So, you are getting paid.”

“No.”

“I was under the impression you were with me because you liked me and wanted to protect me, but I see that I’m wrong.”

“I do like you. A lot. And protecting you from them is my priority.”

“Really?”

He drilled me in the eyes. “Yes, really. That’s the truth.”

“You’re hiding something from me. How can I trust you to protect me when you’re not entirely in this for the same goal?”

“Ah no,” dragging his voice. “We have the same goal. I want nothing more than to see the whole dang society terminated and those people pulling strings punished.”

“So then why the secrecy?”

He hesitated for a little too long and my patience was spent. I threw my napkin down and pushed my chair back to leave.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Your meal is coming.”

“You gotta be open and honest with me, Ollie. There’s too much at stake.”

“Alright,” he said when I stood to leave. “You win. Sit back down.”

“You’ll tell me the truth?”

He cringed. “Yes.”

I planted my backside back down just as the waiter came with our meals. The smell of the crumbed fish taunted my hunger. I hadn’t eaten since mid morning and was feeling a little light headed, feeding my already irritated state.

I let him munch on a couple of fries before shooting an impatient glare across the table. He threw his half eaten fry down and sighed. “I’m being blackmailed,” rolled out of his mouth.

“To do what?”