Page 12 of Emperor of Corruption
She’s uncommonly beautiful, but I don’t think that’s the draw. I’m surrounded by uncommonly beautiful women every day, though I’ll admit most of them pale in comparison to Lyra Stewart. Her hair is a dark brown, brightened only by honey-colored highlights that I’m certain are natural. Her eyes are a pretty mixture of crystalline blue and stormy grey, covered in a forest of thick lashes, and I’ve noticed they change colors with her moods. Her body is lovely, but it isn’t the best I’ve ever seen—her breasts are small, but perfectly proportional, her ass is luscious, her legs are toned, and her waist is so tiny, I think I could cover it with both hands.
Yes, she’s gorgeous, but that’s not what made me force her to submit. That’s not what turned me on more than I’ve been in years, and gave me the best orgasm of my life… all from a simple blowjob.
There’s something else to her that I haven’t yet discovered. Some piece of the puzzle that’s missing, that doesn’t fully make sense. Maybeit’s how unusually perceptive she is. Maybe it’s because fighting with her is a welcome novelty after having everyone in my life bow down to me for years.
Whatever it may be… I know I’m not done with her yet. I don’t think my interest in her will be long-reaching, just long enough to figure out what it is about her that piques my curiosity, and maybe fuck her a few times. Considering how hard she made me come with her mouth, I’m almost certain her pussy will be an otherworldly experience.
The head of my security slips into my office, silent as the grave. Locke is an appropriately large man who looks remarkably out of place in a suit. The fabric is expertly tailored, but he’s too…feralto truly pull off the tuxedo. He has too many muscles packed on his body, and far too many crimes tucked under his belt.
“You want me to take care of the reporter?” he asks quietly. He doesn’t ask what happened in this room, or about the screams he heard; he’s been with me too long and is paid far too well to have questions. But more than the salary I pay him, Locke is loyal to me because I saved him from a syndicate that wanted him dead many years ago.
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m done with her yet.”
Locke nods. “She could be a problem.”
“She’s too insignificant to pose a real problem.”
He nods again, either accepting this or agreeing with me. Probably both. Lyra could go to the police station right now, and nobody would believe her—even if they did, they wouldn’t do anything about it. She could dig up all of my crimes and lay them bare, and it’d have no negative impact on me. It’d only lead to me discrediting her and ruining her life, maybe killing her.
No. Killing someone so clever and beautiful feels wrong. I’ll only do that as a last resort.
“Get me everything there is to know on her,” I instruct Locke.
“You already have her file,” he reminds me.
He’s right. I read all about little orphan Lyra long before she stepped into my office, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I want to know more—I want to knoweverything.
“Get meeverything,” I repeat. “Her past relationships. How she takes her coffee. Her routine.”
“I’ll have it to you by the morning.” Locke pauses, lingering in the doorway. “Silas wants to meet.”
My brows furrow. “I spoke with him tonight.”
“He has other business,” Locke tells me. “Business regarding The Eyes.”
I pause. Locke is one of very few people in this world privileged enough to know about The Eyes.
Of course, thoughts of The Eyes mingle with thoughts of Silas, who’s a junior member. I’m a more senior member—something that annoys him to no end, since I joined after he did.
My jaw clenches as I recall my interaction with Silas tonight. He was stupid for wearing his assigned signet ring to the gala—even if nobody could recognize it or understand its significance, those rings are meant as trophies for members tokeep,notwear.Silas decided to run the risk just to remind me that I can’t touch him, no matter how much I want to. Not if I wish to stay on the right side of The Eyes and respect their—our—rules of conduct. Members are strictly off-limits to each other.
“Tell him to go fuck himself,” I reply mildly. “I’ll see him at the meeting next week.”
“Alright.” Locke turns around and exits, leaving me with my thoughts. Thoughts of the nuisance Silas might end up being… and thoughts of a very different, much more delectable nuisance who I’m strangely looking forward to seeing once more.
Chapter Six
Lyra
Idon’t sleep when I get home—I can’t. I scrub my skin raw in the shower, trying to wash off the memory of Killian’s touch, and attempt to hold in my tears. He doesn’t deserve them. What I went through tonight was horrifying and traumatizing… but it also lights a fire inside me.
Iwillpin something on Killian. The article I publish about him next week won’t be the exposé I’m planning—I don’t think Sarah would sanction an exposé on Killian King—which means I’ll need to write that in my free time.
It also means I have to get the bullshit article praising Killian out of the way. As nauseous as it makes me, I type up a draft of an article that paints Killian in a beautiful, completely false light. I hate myself for each word I type, but knowing that I’ll be following this piece up with a profile on thetrueKillian King—the rapist lunatic who deserves to rot in hell—serves as a cold consolation.
It’s 4am by the time I’m done, and I’m not even a touch tired… so I decide to begin preliminary research for the exposé. The best starting point is analyzing Killian’s behavior at the gala tonight and searching for clues. Think about anything I saw that could serve as hints for the darkness I’m certain lurks beneath Killian’s public affairs.
He was speaking to Silas Cornell, his greatest rival—and someone he’s fucked over with his business model—which is an excellent starting point. I navigate to my favorite search engine on my laptop, one protected with layers of encryption and an ironclad VPN, and search uprelationship between Killian King and Silas Cornell.
