Hypergeniture Bk 01 Pt 05

BOOK ONE • PART FIVE

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!

Chapter 52 (American Sin) was initially intended to be a standalone stroke story, released between books one and two. I decided that it would instead be incorporated directly in book one. As such, it's not overly essential to the plot, and focuses a lot more on sex than much of the rest of the book.

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! :-)

P.S. Why not let me know in the comments what you'd put on your billionaire bucket list. I might write sections based on them in future!

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43 • Ancient History

Sardonis felt an old injury flair... It was from the second time the Americans tried to kill him.

Back then, he couldn't believe his luck when he convinced Western spies that he was some kind of changed man. Sure, it helped that they needed him -- that no one else could move money around like him -- but he also liked to think it was his charm that did the trick.

The old bastard smiled, knowing that there was still cash out there that no one knew about except him. Money that no one could ever use, without Sardonis signing off on it.

Tracking Orwell would be hard, but not impossible. No, not for a man who'd been hunting and killing for decades. Not for a man who

needed

Orwell dead...

Sardonis had to find him before it was too late, and before he laid his hands on the evidence that could finally end it all.

Yes, Orwell didn't know it, but he was sitting on something truly fascinating. That's why he had to take over that company... Because the British government knew he'd find out eventually. It's also why Edward wanted him dead... Because he'd find out.

Eventually.

• • •

Eve looked at herself in the mirrored wall of the gym and sighed heavily as she saw age where others saw vibrance and fatigue where others saw beauty.

Her teardrop shaped breasts with the gentle slope from top to bottom didn't seem round enough.

Her olive-infused skin didn't seem clear enough.

Her lips didn't feel full enough, and her smile didn't taste right.

This insecurity was not her affliction, but a symptom of things going wrong a long time ago. Contrary to what her son thought, it didn't start with the death of his father. No, it started the day she got pregnant with him...

It was too soon -- too much pressure -- with an older man who should've known better and would've gone to prison had the world found out. There was no alternative other than to try a secret deal with his billionaire employer. Not without social workers and police getting involved... Something that Eve's parents desperately wanted, and maybe she needed.

Everyone was so disappointed back then, but the young 'couple' felt they were doing the right thing. They were wrong, and Eve slowly realised over the years that society's norms exist for a reason.

Her youthful arrogance couldn't overpower the real impact of what happened. Not psychologically -- not physically.

They got married and had the twins. For a while, that made both parents happy, but he had to start drinking... Eve told herself the pressure of being a father got to him. That wasn't it though.

No, that wasn't it.

He was simply an incapable and irresponsible man... Unlike their son.

In that regard, Eve was almost happy for her husband's death and her own depression. She thought it made a diamond out of Oliver; forged by intense pressure. Thinking that way didn't bring a smile to her face. She was sad and maybe even nihilistic, but she wasn't evil. Confused, insecure and angry? Yes... But not evil or cruel or malicious.

No, not to her mind at least.

The forlorn mother decided to get dressed; having stared at herself in the mirror for long enough. She still had her list of demands and she believed getting them fulfilled might reset her life.

It might make her feel younger and dumber and give her a chance to retry that time of her life.

That time that should have played out differently.

Pulling on some comfortable clothes, Eve reached for the list. Recently, she trimmed it down to make it more palatable for her son. It went from thirty items to thirteen (then fourteen, as she avoided an unlucky number).

Her first stop that morning was the study, where she knew Oliver spent a lot of his time. Finding Natasha sitting at the desk, behind her laptop, she actually smiled. It seemed like her niece had gone through a dip but was now rising again... Eve knew the doctors who constantly visited the house had something to do with it.

"You seem to be enjoying the new job."

"I am, Auntie Eve!" Natasha replied. "Well... I still miss nursing, but this has been more interesting than I expected. Honestly, I took the job to be close to your son."

"He'd love to hear that," Eve smiled weakly. "By the way, where is he?"

"Oh... Uhm... He... Eh..."

Eve smirked. "No worries, I'll go check his room."

As her aunt started walking, Natasha followed, trying to draw her attention. The reason became clearer and clearer as the sound of sex filled the air.

It was a big house. Big enough that Eve would have never noticed had she not walked straight in the direction it was coming from. Stopping at her son's bedroom door, she began to feel sick. The creaking of the bed, the sound of stifled grunts and moans... She hoped and prayed it was one of the staff members in there with him: Alicia or Skylar, or some maid whose name she didn't care to learn.

Hell, she hoped it was a prostitute, but deep down, she knew the way her offspring had been looking at each other. She knew the sound of her daughters' voices...

Right then, the mother of three could have walked away. As long as no one was getting hurt, maybe she should have let it slide. She trusted her son not to take advantage of the girls, and she didn't know what to do as a parent. No, she never knew what to do as a parent.

No. Feeling her list of demands underneath her fingers, she knew this was her chance.

Eve swung open the door and screamed as reality hit like a hammer -- her son and daughters naked. Oliver deep inside Tecla as Elle kissed his lips. The three of them looked up at her in shock, but Tecla's didn't last... The most daring and defiant of her daughters, Tec's expression changed as she saw the mother who neglected her.

"Keep fucking me, Olly," she demanded. "This woman doesn't care, and she doesn't get to complain."

It was true, Eve didn't care, and she certainly had no right to complain. But, she had fourteen things at least on her list.

Now, she could get each and every one.

44 • Take-Off

I'd been kicked out my own house by a woman who now had leverage.

There was no panic in my mother's eyes when she found us. No, she saw only opportunity. This was her chance to prove that we did something worse than the accumulated bad she'd wrought throughout our childhood.

On the one hand, there was a real sense we were running away, but this was no retreat. We should've left mom a long time ago -- everyone knew that -- and part of me was grateful we finally had an excuse.

As the cars pulled up to collect us from the Australia residence, Tash tried her best to spin things. "She'll get over it... Finding out like this was a shock and she'll realise... She'll realise..."

"What?" I asked. "She'll realise it's a good thing?"

"Yes!" Tash beamed, brimming with heartfelt confidence.

"I don't know, cuz."

For a minute, Natasha and I simply looked at each other. She was smiling as broad and bright as possible; hoping it would be contagious. It was... She helped make me see the bright-side.

This would blow over. It would happen faster if my mother got her demands, but I wasn't quite ready to cave. I wanted to see how far she'd go blackmailing us before submitting. Yes, I wanted to test her ethics and resolve (not that I thought she had much of either).

As Skylar cleared her throat behind me, I realised it was time to get in the car. Taking Natasha's hand, I pulled her toward the door, but she resisted. "No. I can't go with you."

"What?! Why?"

"I don't want to interrupt the work I'm doing with my shrink--"

"Your shrink can get on the plane with us!"

Natasha reached out to stroke my cheek. She'd recently been through some physical symptoms of withdrawal and still looked tired... The doctors were comfortable giving her drug-replacement therapy, which had helped, but didn't side-step every consequence.

"It's better for me to take this time and join you later," my cousin argued. "Hell, I have to help take care of your mom... If not as her niece, then as your cousin, your friend, your assistant... She won't last a day on her own."

More importantly, Natasha was someone who cared deeply about other people. But that created a need to constantly have a plant in her garden -- something to nurture.

Eve was one hell of a project, and that attracted my cousin to the challenge.

I was dismissive. "She has her own security people who can watch over her."

"They're not going to care about her like I'd care about her."

That much was true. Natasha was a people-person, a nurturer, a nurse... She would protect Mom unlike anyone else. Without that kind of care, my parent would implode. Yes, her children had always been there to care for her, and she'd never been left to her own devices. At least not since we were born.

So, there really was no choice -- Natasha had to stay.

My cousin blushed, and her eyes sank, before rising like the vibrant sun. "If I kiss you, will you kiss back?"

I peeked over my shoulder at the waiting car. Tecla and Elle were watching us with nothing but encouragement, like girls hoping for the heroes to kiss in their favourite romance. I answered Tash's question with my lips as they met hers for a restrained touch. Not a sad kiss -- not a reluctant one -- but a kiss that promised more in months to come. A kiss that was a beginning when all our kisses before had been endings.

As we parted, her fingers gently brushed my arm and we shared hope in the way we looked at each other. Taking a second to snapshot the moment in my mind, I left her with one last peck on the cheek.

We'd be back together soon, but not soon enough. It was bittersweet as we said goodbye; already dreaming of reuniting.

I got in the back of the blacked-out Mercedes with Elle resting her head on my shoulder as we started moving. We were on our way to my brand-new plane, but who knew where we'd land?

• • •

Vika Aspidova Dumps Royal Brat who Gambled Away Jet

The headline made me smile. It was a sign that the good guys could win and that there's something resembling justice in the world. I didn't smile too big, though. Being so close to events that get reported on in bold black letters on the front pages of tabloids had a way of making me feel uneasy.

Checking the time on the watch Vika gifted me, I reflected on what had been a chaotic few hours. We were packed and ready to leave minutes after our mother's discovery, but we had to wait while the plane's paperwork got processed. I would've hoped to spend more time with the Russian, but fate seemed to intervene as we were off to yet another new country.

When we pulled onto the tarmac, everyone was instantly looking out the windows to try spot our ride.

We were driving around among the passenger jets; massive metal birds that loomed over us. They were gigantic Airbus and Boeing craft that were the size of small office blocks. As we stopped next to the biggest of them all, there was confusion in the car. The wide-bodied, double-decker, had no livery on the side. It was pure-white with nothing but the markings required by law. There was no indication of ownership since this beast didn't belong to any airline. Oh no, this was the largest private plane in the world, and it was ten times bigger than any of us could've dared to imagine!

Attached to the doors, steps stood ready to accept guests and crew. Our staircase was at the front with a red carpet rolled out at its feet. Waiting to welcome us, the captain and chief flight attendant shook our hands.

The pilot was a younger man and I asked if he'd flown for the prince.

"Thankfully not, sir," he replied. "The only remaining crew member is Zynah here."

The pilot directed me to the woman standing by his side. Zynah was the chief attendant -- she was also the

only

attendant. We had struggled to put together a team on short notice and the captain explained this wasn't exactly all legal. The aircraft typically required a minimum crew of about a dozen people.

"Will it be unsafe?" I asked.

"Not at all, sir. You may have to pay a fine if we get caught, but there's nothing else to worry about."

Accepting the risks, we boarded the plane with the small welcoming party leading the way.

The ascent of the stairs was an epic journey given how tall they were. My wound had healed remarkably well, but it still stung now and then. This was one of those times as I stopped three-quarters of the way up; before my sisters gave me a little nudge and got me all the way to the top.

Zynah was of Middle Eastern descent and very pretty. She almost looked like a doll; her olive skin flawless, totally unblemished, and her eyes huge. Their light-brown irises seemed to reflect the world as clear as a mirror and her black stewardess uniform was precisely put together. I'd estimate she was in her early 30s and married to her job, which I suppose is an occupational hazard for people in her line of work. She offered to take my sisters upstairs while I made logistical arrangements with Alicia and Skylar.

"Staff are at the back of the lower deck, your excellency," the attendant explained.

"Your excellency?" I queried with a raised eyebrow.

"Apologies, sir. That's the style our operations manual requires for the owner."

I snorted... Clearly, this was an artefact of the Prince's ego. "We're rewriting the manual, Zynah," I winked. "Things are still going to be professional, but I don't expect to be treated as a king... Or, a wannabe king."

The attendant smiled at me, nodding politely, before leading my sisters to the upper deck. For the first time, I internalised the space around me and took a proper look at my surroundings.

The 'lobby' of the plane had couches curving against the walls with a swooping staircase. It was clearly a space that could be used as a waiting room -- the idea being that this was an office in the sky. Not just any old office either, but a headquarters with wings that could transport an entire business operation from one part of the world to another.

To my left was the cockpit and other infrastructure for the crew. Walking to the right, I passed a small water closet, then a small workbench with space for two computer terminals, before ending up in a huge seating area with room for about 17 people. Another toilet followed with a small enclosed lounge space across from it. This, I assumed, was for intimate meetings or watching movies.

I moved past the leisure areas and into the workspace. A conference room with seating for nine dominated the next part of the plane. Walking through, I reached an executive lounge for eight people, adjacent to a large bathroom.

Finally, after what felt like an hour-long stroll, I arrived at the very back of the plane, where both decks housed banks of business-class seats for 48 support staff or non-executive guests along with facilities for their comfort.

That's where I found Alicia and Skylar. "What the fuck?! This thing is the size of... I don't even know. It's huge!"

My aides didn't laugh or even smile at my amazement. No, they looked deathly serious, with my arrival interrupting a hushed and urgent conversation.

"There's been an incident, sir," Alicia explained.

My new chief of staff passed me photographs of a burnt out little building. At first, I couldn't even recognise the blackened bricks and shattered windows. In the background of one shot, there was a fire engine, parked on a street that looked vaguely familiar. Then, realisation came...

"This is our old house," I whispered, touching the tips of my fingers to the glossy photo as if they could detect an invisible braille. "This is our old house in Toronto."

Alicia nodded. "We had one unarmed man guarding it. He's in hospital with severe burns -- touch and go -- but the house was completely destroyed. Two fire bombs through the--"

My ears heard Alicia, but my brain didn't register a thing. "This is where we used to live... Where my sisters used to sleep and my mother... It's where we all used to live."

Firmly grabbing my shoulder, Alicia squeezed until my eyes came to meet hers. "Someone is trying to scare you, but it won't work. Right?"

I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and biting down hard.

Now was the time for strength.

Skylar offered even more news. "We believe it's unrelated, but you should know that Singaporean police arrested a man outside your building a few hours ago. They responded to a tip-off after a citizen noticed he was concealing a knife."

"Unrelated?" I asked.

"We believe so, sir."

Alicia added, "This plane is a godsend, sir. It's best we keep moving."

I agreed, but some things had to be done first. "Everyone disembarks. I want this thing swept for any signs of sabotage or surveillance."

"We've already--"

"Do it again," I instructed, daring to put a hand on Alicia's side as I looked right into her soul. "I wasn't careful enough in London. You wanted me to take more precautions and I dismissed your concerns. I'll never make that same mistake again. Never."

"Yes, sir," Alicia smiled weakly and sweetly, remembering the time we got our asses kicked.

I told her I wanted the guard who got hurt in Toronto to be well looked after. We added a dozen more agents to my mother's security detail and another dozen to mine. Even with me being ludicrously wealthy, the costs were beginning to put a strain on things. I had to survive and protect. To achieve those goals, I needed endless money, which meant endless work.

"Alicia, could you please sit with our team and start compiling strategic reviews? First, I want one-on-one video calls with every single Pellinore executive."

"You want to consolidate your power?" Alicia asked.

I nodded and she nodded and Skylar nodded.

It was the less dramatic version of that bit in a sports movie where the underdog team huddle one last time. We had a plan -- I had a plan -- and now we needed to see if it could work.

There was one thing I wasn't sure about. I didn't know if I should tell my sisters about the fire, even though I was certain it would be impossible to keep secret. They were already in the dark about our father's death; I didn't want to keep anything else from them. Yet, as I climbed the stairs to the upper-deck, I wasn't sure.

Protecting them from the world was all I cared about.

When I got closer to the master suite, I heard them arguing about something. Even as I entered the room, and they saw me, there was no pause in their debate.

"I'm like any ol' cavegirl," Elle explained to her sister, rolling her heel. "My brain sees our brother and it stops thinking... Stops worrying. It's primal, and that's what makes it perfect. You know?"