“He means something,” I said. “Just not enough.” I folded my arms across my chest, bracing against some imaginary chill. “Vincent knows me. He’s seen me at my weakest, he’s seen me broken, and delirious, but he’s also seen me scale the heights of sexual experience. He educated me, trained me, used me. He loved me, too, in his own twisted way, and I loved him. I loved him so much I didn’t know how to breathe without him. That’s what a relationship like that does to you, you lose yourself in it, and you don’t even care, not until you realise it’s all been a nasty fucking illusion. I’d love to sink back into our Italian fantasy, it would be so easy, so beautifully easy, if only it was real. But it’s over. It has to be over. I’m just not sure I’ll be strong enough, not when it comes to it. Not when this…thing, this crazy, messy, stupidthingwith Andy Morgan is frying the tiny bit of rational thinking I’ve got left in my skull.”
“I know Mr Morgan is no Master Blake, he’s mean but he’s not twisted, he’s a bull not a poet. But maybe he could be what you need? The thing you hold onto? That’s what you wanted, right? When you came back here?”
I smiled. “That’s exactly what I thought Ididn’twant. I just wanted my club back, I wanted to hole up tight with my hands full, and my brain busy, in a place where I had control, and value, and purpose. Where I was strong, and didn’t need an asshole like Vincent Blackmore in my life. Andy was supposed to be a kinky little rebound to take the edge off, nothing else. A value-added bonus.” I met her eyes full on. “Believe it or not, Topaz, I wasn’t exactly drowning in options. This was my life, and then I left it, it was the only real place to run back to. I was supposed to be on top of the world by now, without a shit to give for Vince, or what he’s doing.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “Mr Morgan likes you and he’s trying and it’s been three weeks.”
I dug out the handset from my pocket, then opened Vincent’s messages and tossed it over.
I watched her eyes widen as she scrolled through. The ones that morning had been something else, pictures of him all the way across London as he made his way in our direction. And his words, begging, pleading, threatening. Promising everything I’d ever wanted. Our big, grand happily ever after.
And then the final message, the one which had stopped me in my tracks and set off this whole sorry mental spiral in the first place.
You’ve broken me, pretty bird. I’m yours. It’s my turn to kneel at your feet, my beautiful Magpie. I’m going to take you back where you belong, and we shall become as one. Together. You own me. You own my very soul.
“Intense,” she said.
“Lies,” I scoffed. “Most likely, anyway. I don’t think he knows how to kneel any more than Andy does. I should forget about the pair of them and get myself some fucking therapy.”
“If Vincent did kneel for you, would you go back to him?”
“If Vincent had knelt for me when it mattered I’d never have left him. Vincent is complicated, and twisted, and he’s a fucking liar as well, but I loved him. I’d have stayed with him, if he’d just been able to give me what I needed.”
“Which was?”
I smiled. “Humility. Devotion. Submission. Truth. Loyalty. Equality.Realequality.” I sighed. “I want a dominant man who knows when to kneel. A man who leads, but knows when to follow. A man who can punish me, and use me, and make me fall apart for him, but knows how to do the same in return. Only when I need him to, of course. It’s about the sentiment rather than the routine.”
Topaz’s face was a picture. A real picture. “I get that, I just think… I mean… this is all pretty soon… I think you’re trying to conquer the whole of Rome in like half a day, when the Romans weren’t expecting you at their gates at all and are really quite pissed off about it. It’s like they’ve invited you in for tea and biscuits, and you’re throwing the table in the air, demanding steak, no?”
“Ouch,” I said. “Is that how you see it?”
“It doesn’t really matter how I see it.”
“Patience,” I laughed, “has never been one of my virtues. My parents call me Princess Drama. I’m the only one in the family like it. I want everything and I want it now, and if I can’t have it, then nothing else will do. Vincent was the only one who ever tempered that, initiation through fire.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “It sounds as though you’ve already given up on Mr Morgan, and it’s only been five minutes.”
“He will never hold up to Vincent,” I smiled, sadly. “I’ve been kidding myself. Not like this. Not now. And I don’t want him to, I don’t want to settle for a man who won’t become everything to me. I’d rather just focus on my club, and my own shit, and try and see off Vincent the best I can.”
So much I wanted to say, about the burning humiliation at knowing Andy read those passages, and knowing what would be to come just a week from now. Knowing how ashamed he’d be, how horrified when my filthy dirty secret found the light of day. Knowing how he’d never look at me the same again.
For the love of a man like Andy Morgan I’d have to beg, and kneel, and roll over. Just like I had with Vincent. And I didn’t want that anymore.
I wouldn’t fucking take that anymore.
Not for Vincent, and certainly not for him. They could both go and fuck themselves.
“Maybe he’ll surprise you,” Topaz said, hopefully. “Maybe last night will have triggered something, made him think.”
But, no. It was not meant to be.
No sooner had she spoken than Mr fucking Perfect himself made an appearance. His eyes were intense, simmering hot with the desperate need for business as usual. He dropped a pile of envelopes on the bar without a smile.
“Banking,” he said. “Please get a move on, we’ve already been late enough as it is today.”
I chugged down the rest of the cocktail and slammed the glass on the bar on my way out.
***