Hypergeniture Bk 01 Pt 03

BOOK ONE • PART THREE

Author's Note:

Thank you to everyone who has engaged with this story already! Your comments, feedback, favourites and ratings are wonderful and most welcome. Please enjoy this next part and leave a 5-star rating if you are so inclined, and let me know what you think through the feedback portal on my page, or in the comments.

I'm always open to hearing your input!

All sexual activity is between characters that are 18 or older. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real persons, places or events is purely coincidental. The below is not intended to serve as a template for real life sexual encounters or relationships, nor should it be regarded as such. Stay safe, happy and healthy! :-)

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25 • Meanwhile...

"Kissed? Like, on the lips?"

Elle nodded vigorously, confirming her twin's wildest dreams. Tecla couldn't believe the impossibility of it all, but her sister wouldn't lie. "So, are you two going to do it again? The kissing and stuff?"

Elle shook her head and Tecla's shoulder's sagged. She'd been holding out hope for her two siblings, but Elle's body-language seemed to close off any chance of a rekindling. Yet, the record was soon corrected as one sister offered the other a plan...

"I don't want to be doing stuff that excludes you, Tec. It has to be the three of us."

Tecla's eyes stretched as green-grey irises flared with something close to a shade of red. "Like, threesomes and stuff? Jeez, sis... I don't want to be mean, but I don't think about you in that way."

"Don't be a loser, Tec! Obviously, you and I won't be doing stuff with each other. That would be gross, right?"

Tecla nodded, her cheeks glowing red as her thoughts synced up with her twin. "So, we'd do stuff with Olly but never with each other?"

"Kinda... I mean, there's nothing wrong with being in the same room, is there? Like, I'd want to at least see everything," Elle confessed. "Think about it, Tec. If we can't share, it won't work. It's either both of us with him, or someone will feel left out and get hurt. We're sisters, and that means we have to do this together... In any case, I've already told Olly you're with me on this."

The sweet smile that accompanied the last words was equal parts disarming and daring. Together, it made for an irresistible cocktail.

Typically the shy one, Elle had taken command of the situation. For once, the cool, calm, edgy and rebellious Tecla was out of her comfort zone and feeling like a normie. She took a deep breath as her sister held on to her hands and squeezed. It all made perfect sense, in a weird kind of way, but she didn't need rational arguments. Deep down, she knew she would've done the same things as her sister did in Cape Town if their roles had been reversed. She loved her brother in

that

way and anyone with eyes could've guessed it... It wasn't a pervy thing, mind you -- it was the way she felt in her heart. After all, what's a good big brother if not a boyfriend you aren't allowed to kiss? Or, a husband you're not allowed to honeymoon with?

Okay, maybe that's a fucked up way of looking at it.

Still, Tec could forgive herself for being a little fucked up. She had thought about all this stuff before and the hesitation was more a show for her sister's sake. The truth was simple and she knew what she wanted.

As their twin-connection communicated wordless accord, the sister's embraced. They'd made a massive decision with big implications, yet there wasn't a shred of doubt in their hearts. Releasing their hug, one told the other how excited she was to see their brother again. The other agreed and they giggled happily at the prospect of daring new experiences -- naughty, innocent, love-soaked... All the best things be it with a taste of sugar or spice.

An intrusion interrupted their joy as the girls turned to face a visitor. "Oh, Natasha," Elle rolled her eyes, still unimpressed with the 'other woman'.

"Cuz!" Tecla added, far more gregarious. "Have you settled into the penthouse? It's so big, we've hardly even seen each other!"

Tash seemed to shrink as scrutiny came from two sides. One was cruel and one was kind but they both made her stomach turn. "I'm comfortable," she started, "but I don't like the security people at this house... They all look at me funny. I think they even went into my room..."

• • •

Alicia opened the encrypted message from her subordinate in Singapore. They'd made an inventory of Natasha Orwell's possessions and found the mystery phone that she used in Cape Town. Well, they found half of it...

We discretely laid eyes on the device, minus battery and SIM-card. The back cover was missing and there appear to be scratches on exposed circuitry. This could be an attempt to hinder digital forensics as we close in. If the phone has any special security features, it's not immediately obvious. Data should be easy to recover. Should we confiscate it, ma'am?

Tapping her finger against the plastic of her laptop, Alicia considered her next move. She was playing chess against an unknown opponent and chess wasn't her game. Right now, her priority was getting her king somewhere safe. Every move mattered; every move gave her enemy a chance to make one of their own. She couldn't waste a single opportunity shuffling pawns.

Natasha Orwell could wait.

Alicia had to turn her attention to the source of the plot against her boss. Her childhood friends -- her 'uncles' -- had been great help. They were always so sweet with her; men of the Cold War who would visit her father to talk of secrets and spies. Gentlemen who came from both sides of her motherland's deep divides to chart a course out of darkness. Those same men who helped her escape her wretched youth now took care to help her with something just as scary.

One of them wrote to her from London.

Everyone knows the Brits are covering up the attempted assassination of your boss. Strangely, no one cares to look into it. Neither East nor West has so much as raised an eyebrow at what happened. Meanwhile, I can't find this old boyfriend of Elizabeth Wharry -- these are just people's memories. Nothing was written. Sorry Allie, I wish I could be more help.

Alicia smiled as she saw the use of an old nickname. The absence of answers was almost made up for by the few happy memories of years gone by.

It seemed the player had made her moves and had to be patient. Something would emerge; something would click into place.

Nothing in the world is static. As long as things move, opportunities will arise. That's how Alicia survived and that's how she'd keep Oliver Orwell alive. Alive long enough to figure out why someone would want him dead. Then, she knew what she would have to do... Kill them first.

The screen of Alicia's laptop died. Low battery.

She gazed at her reflection on the black screen, noticing her bruises healing faster than expected.

Of course they would

, she thought. Her body was used to repairing itself after a fight -- she'd done it before, and she could do it again.

Closing her computer and setting aside work, Alicia turned her neck to catch sight of her boss. His head was drooping against the cabin of the private jet; his lips parted slightly as he snored. She thought he looked... Cute. It was a thought that made her smile as she checked her watch and calculated the time until they landed.

With her happy expression fading to neutral professionalism, Alicia made her way to Skylar. The blonde was sitting alone, listening to music. She removed her earphones as her boss approached. "Ma'am?"

"I want him to feel comfortable in Singapore... Keep security front of mind but let him have time alone with his family."

The plane shuddered and the pilot asked everyone to put on their seat-belts as Skylar gave Alicia a thumbs up. Soon, all the Orwells would be in one place and the two of them would step back to let their boss remake his family.

26 • The Little Red Dot

I fell in love with Singapore the second we landed and I looked out the plane's window. Rain danced with humidity to splash life down onto our umbrellas as we disembarked. Then, it was into one of a dozen black automobiles and towards the heart of the city.

The Mercedes van that carried my immediate entourage was a lounge on wheels. It felt like a private jet with a sanctuary for four passengers, separate from the cabin. It even had little automatic curtains, which Alicia immediately closed.

"Sorry, sir," she excused, "I know it would be nice to look out, but I'm worried about people looking in."

I understood. After what happened in London, I would never resist caution again. "It's fine. At least we can still hear the rain."

Turning my attention to my phone, I read the end-result of the interview I'd attended in Cape Town. It was a glittering article, although it still felt unnerving to read about myself.

Oliver Orwell comes across as decisive and promises to bring empathy and calm to his role. The new chairman of Pellinore is much like his predecessor -- the woman who left him a fortune. He is mysterious and carries himself with an aura of power.

"Mysterious? Powerful?" I chuckled under my breath. I'd never thought of myself as either of those things. It was a relief to see the article was positive, especially after I turned down the journalists' advances.

When we were in South Africa, it felt like I was losing my mind. In many ways, I was... But, with Alicia and Skylar by my side, things were getting better. I had a better grip on reality and I felt comfortable proceeding with the bold new direction of my life.

Turning my attention back to the present, I enjoyed the trappings of luxury. The cooled leather of my seat invited me to doze off again as the reality of international travel set in. We'd been in the sky for ages, and crossed several time zones. The luxury of our plane helped soothe the jet-lag a little, but not much.

In the car, there was only Alicia to keep me company. Watching her as she worked her phone, I couldn't help but see the big sister I never had. As she caught my glancing eyes, she gifted me the subtlest of smiles. Her attention drifted to her nails; her pupils involuntarily shifting back to me. "The penthouse is incredible," she remarked.

"I've heard it's quite massive."

"And quite beautiful," Alicia added.

I shrugged. "Can something that big be beautiful? Isn't beauty about restraint?"

"Restraint is more of a burden, sir. If you

really

want to create something beautiful, that is."

"Creativity is about making decisions, isn't it? If you take the biggest room and fill it with the most beautiful things, you wouldn't have created a masterpiece. There has to be intention."

Alicia agreed, "Sorry sir, my mind veered from buildings to people... Take the biggest heart you can find and fill it with the most beautiful people? Well, that would be a masterpiece."

I felt my lungs stop for a split-second as I processed my companion's words. These were words I could take to mean many things and, in that moment, they meant everything at once. With restraint still on my mind, I felt one last urge to rebut.

"They say all great art should contain one deliberate mistake, so as not to upset God. Maybe all great people must do the same... Maybe I should take up a vice to avoid wrath and lightning strikes and whatnot."

"A vice other than incest, sir?" Alicia asked cheekily, and I caught her scold herself for the potential impertinence. "Well, at least you admit that your life is a great one. Right now, it might not feel that way, but you will change the world. I promise."

"I would like that to be true," I confessed. "At the very least, I'd like to fix my mother and set my sisters up for a perfect future. I'd love to give Tash -- my old best friend -- something too, but right now, she's too mysterious."

"And too dangerous."

"I want to confront her!" I insisted. "I want to ask her straight-up if she betrayed me! I want to tell the world we nearly got killed and that someone out there--"

"It would be the wrong approach, sir," Alicia interjected with supreme calm. "We need evidence. If we're wrong and you accuse her, she'll never forgive you, and we'll possibly lose important information."

I huffed, "We aren't learning anything new!"

"It's still early days. We need to be patient, sir. Let me handle this. Focus on your sisters and on doing right by them."

I had to agree; she was right about everything and about what needed to be done. So, silence settled like a warm blanket. Not a linen-wrapped hug, but a sweaty woollen sheet that wad thick and suffocating. It was the beginning of one of the panic attacks I refused to call panic attacks. My body was about to go to war with itself, but a gentle hand from Alicia on my knee soothed it all.

How did she seem to understand me better than I understood myself?

Looking up, I decided it was time to find out. "Where did you study, Alicia?"

"I got a business degree--"

"Where?" I repeated.

My companion smirked, knowing she might as well tell me. "Toronto. I was paid to keep an eye on you; enrolled in the same school. You must've seen me a hundred times, sir. Each time you did, I would look down and try to hide my face, but when we met in London, I could see you recognised me."

I exhaled, laughing under my breath, happy to know the truth. "I knew it! Wow... You must have seen me do some embarrassing stuff back then."

"Like that night you and your friends got kicked out of the karaoke place?" Alicia giggled. "Your singing was so bad a pair of guys wanted to beat you up, but I kicked their asses before they could follow you outside."

I smiled, remembering the night in vivid detail... Or, as vividly as I could considering how drunk I was.

"Are you excited to see the twins?" Alicia pivoted.

"Very..."

Our vehicle came to a gentle stop and Alicia removed her hand from my knee before Skylar opened the door. We emerged into a room of stark contrast -- black walls and a bright white floor. Suspended above us, massive panels ensured an equal distribution of intense fluorescent light. Aside from that, we were in a void-like space with nothing but the sleek black doors of a private elevator in front of us.

"Your personal garage," Alicia explained. "There are five turntables for cars and one for a motorcycle. Ms Wharry only had the yacht and rented her cars, but you might want to fill the spaces, sir."

Ah, the motorcycle turntable... I imagined Tecla might take more interest in the garage than me. Then again, the day I'd let her get on a motorcycle would be the day I've completely lost my mind. I thought it was far too dangerous, but I also had to remember she was eighteen now. Things had changed.

Boy, had they changed.

As we got into the elevator, Skylar explained that my sisters were in the building's spa. Our plane was expected to land much later, otherwise they'd have thrown a welcome party. Meanwhile, my mother was in her room while Natasha asked if security could take her out for the day. They allowed it, but only because they wanted to observe what she did.

We went straight to the top floor. Before leaving me to my own device, Alicia spoke in a hushed tone. "I thought you'd like to know that your sisters sent a girl to buy them birth control..."

"I see..."

"Would you like me to go buy you some condoms?"

I swallowed hard and blushed even harder. A burning blush that set fire to my cheeks and spread all the way down my neck.

"Condoms? Probably not necessary," I remarked. "I mean, those pills work... Plus, I arranged for their IUDs months ago -- to help with girl stuff."

"Girl stuff?"

"You know... Pain and stuff."

Alicia's face went pale as she made a realisation. "Oh my god... You had to deal with all that, didn't you? Your mother didn't help at all."

"I was always their first call. Even their teachers knew it was better to rely on me when I was an ocean away in boarding school. Once or twice, I had to leave math class to take one of those calls when maybe they were sick or did something naughty."

Taking a breath, Alicia composed herself. I'm sure there were worse things in the world than a brother who had to help raise his sisters. In fact, I smiled retelling the story; thinking back with a strange fondness for the memories. Still, it hit her hard, but she summoned some resolve and lightened up. "So, no condoms then, sir?"

I laughed. "No, but I am about to go see my mother. So, can I get some body armour and a helmet?"

Alicia rolled her eyes. I could read her mind: she thought I was silly, and she liked it.

• • •

In 1998, Liz Wharry speculated big-time in a number of Asian markets. All those bets came good and she walked away with her fortune doubled. For a female investor, it was unheard of... Liz Wharry ate 'unheard of' for breakfast and followed with 'impossible' at lunch.

To celebrate her wins, three Singaporean penthouses were purchased in the same building. The largest occupied the top two floors while the others took up single floors beneath. Wharry merged these to create what was the most desirable urban property on the planet.

Now, it was all mine.

My bedroom was on the top-floor, painted pristine white with monochrome furniture. Glass walls on two sides gave me remarkable views of one of the world's most impressive skylines. The rain was still dusting the windows, and I enjoyed the serenity of it all. Laying back on the bed, I took in the sights, feeling the warmth of freshly ironed sheets. For the first time, I enjoyed my newfound wealth as anyone would -- I felt totally at peace.

I had people to worry about my problems. People I trusted.

On the bedside table, the staff had left a book of crosswords. My memory had been fading; my intellect was becoming dull. I blamed the stabbing and all the shocks, twists and turns that life threw at me. After the strange dream I had on that last night in Cape Town, it seemed to be out of my system. Still, I had to keep working on it.

If I lost my mind, I would lose my family.

Right then, laying in bed, I could close my eyes and sleep for the rest of the day, but I had business to attend to...

Springing to my feet, I orientated myself and walked in the direction of the wardrobe. Expecting privacy, I started taking off my shirt only to find a pair of maids unpacking my things from the plane. "Shit! Sorry," I apologised frantically. They greeted me politely before returning to their task (not even blushing).

The constant presence of people was still new. As was the fact that all my staff seemed to suffer from blindness and deafness where anything I said or did was concerned. I was quite sure I could strip down completely and neither of the women would bat an eyelash, but I decided to spare them the discomfort.

Heading in the other direction, I found two bathrooms that mirrored each other. I assumed one was for 'him' and the other was for 'her', but they were very alike. Not sure which was which, I turned left and made my way to the nearest mirror.

I wanted to look alright before seeing my mother. Mostly, I wanted to look healthy so that she didn't worry or become anxious. My beard had been getting a little out of hand and although my dark hair was messy, nothing looked bad. I decided that I was pleased with my appearance, splashing my face with water for good measure.

Heading back to the wardrobe, I found the maids were gone and I could change clothes. Again, I discovered similar but not identical spaces mirroring each other. The one in darker tones was clearly the 'masculine' side.

It was odd that a home created by a woman who notoriously never dated would have such accommodations.