The Alastair Affair 1: Dani (A Billionaire Dark Romance) by Edwards Scarlett

Author:Edwards, Scarlett [Edwards, Scarlett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Edwards Publishing
Published: 2015-11-07T08:00:00+00:00

***

From there on, dinner proceeds in an unremarkable fashion. I wolf down my meal, because I am starving. It tastes good. Sylvain is a much better cook than I.

We don’t speak much. He lets me eat. It’s not the most sophisticated of showings on my part.

I make a passing comment or two on the food. He answers with a murmured, “Thank you,” a slight smile, or just a nod.

Only when I’m finished eating does conversation pick up.

“There’s a question weighing on your mind,” Sylvain says. “I know because if I were you, I would be wondering the same thing.”

“Oh?” I ask. “And what question is that?”

I’m feeling giddy from the alcohol, and all warm and comfortable from the food.

“Why I recorded your phone call.”

Instantly the good feelings disappear. My stomach drops.

He picks up his glass and swirls it around in his hand. I notice he’s barely touched his own meal.

“This is my estate, Dani. As such, I’m afforded certain privileges. What your friend told you wasn’t a lie. Neither was it the whole truth. She has a partial understanding of me, and even that is dependent on whatever information she could dig up from what was publicly available. Your own impression would be much more…” he pauses, searching for the right word, “…valuable.”

I look at him. My head is swimming. Damn, that was a strong drink!

“Nonetheless, allow me to explain myself. First, yes, I did go to jail, for insider trading. No, I was not guilty. Yes, I was partially framed. The jury wanted to make an example of me.”

Convenient, I think skeptically.

“it’s an easy explanation, but it’s the truth. Moreover, none of that would have happened were I not betrayed. I put my trust in someone who did not deserve it. My lost years, in prison? They taught me a valuable lesson. Would you like to know what that is?”

“Shoot,” I say.

He smiles at my choice of word. “It is this: trust no one. Question everything. And, above all? Seek to make yourself immune.”

“Immune?” I blink. “Immune from what?”

“Immune from weakness of the flesh,” he tells me. “Immune from feelings of the heart. Immune from emotional attachment. I thought I understood that in my youth, but the lesson did not resonate deep enough.”

Without thinking I reach again for my wine. I realize the glass is empty. I frown. “Go on.”

“It wasn’t just your phone call I intercepted. All communications here are tapped. I possess the necessary equipment…” he waves his hand vaguely through the air, “…to make such things child’s play.”

I fidget, newly uncomfortable. “So then, are we… is this being recorded?”

Sylvain chuckles. “No, no. Anything that happens inside the castle walls stays inside the castle walls.” He leans forward. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I feel very much alone at that moment. “I think so,” I say in a small voice.

“Are you angry?”

I look deep inside me. Maybe it’s the overwhelming effect of the wine. Maybe it’s the company. But for some reason, I cannot find a trace of anger.

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