The Power Trip

I doing this?’ he repeated, his bland features contorting into an angry mask. ‘You are the one who is doing this to us. You are the one who is determined to end my political career.’

‘No, I’m not,’ she objected, swallowing hard, holding back tears because she felt so helpless against his threats. Helpless and alone. She should’ve known there was no way out.

‘Save me the whining,’ Hammond said harshly. ‘We are going to the island for dinner with our gracious host, and it would be nice if you could behave like a loving wife for once. These people are my future, so try to remember that. Now get dressed. I do not care to keep anyone waiting.’

* * *

Lori luxuriated under the warm shower, savouring every delicious moment of Cliff’s lovemaking. What a changed man! What an unexpected delight.

Cliff had showered first and gone to one of the upper decks for a drink before their island visit. This time their trip to the island would be at night, so Lori wasn’t quite sure how to dress. Should she take her bikini? Would there be midnight swimming in the ocean? Maybe even skinny-dipping?

She was exhilarated. How about Mrs Cliff Baxter? Could that elusive title possibly be in her future?

Do not get carried away, she warned herself. One session of cunnilingus does not a marriage make.

Although things were definitely heading in the right direction.

Yes.

Mrs Cliff Baxter.

Who knew what the future held?

* * *

‘Do I have to go?’ Jeromy groaned like a petulant child.

‘Please yourself,’ Luca responded, keeping his tone noncommittal as he selected a sexy black frilled shirt from the closet. As each day passed he was getting more and more fed up with Jeromy and his condescending attitude. It seemed that nothing and no one pleased him. It was quite obvious that Jeromy was not the centre of attention, which pissed him off. Jeromy was used to holding court, and on this trip there was no court for him to hold.

‘Don’t you want me to go?’ Jeromy asked, trying to manipulate Luca into begging for his presence.

Luca was having none of it. After this trip was over he’d definitely decided to ease Jeromy out of his life.

Jeromy was giving him an expectant look.

Luca shrugged as he put on the shirt. ‘Like I said — do what you want.’

‘I want you to tell me what to do,’ Jeromy replied, going for the subservient role, which didn’t suit him at all. There was a long silent beat, and then realizing that Luca was not about to beg him, he added a reluctant, ‘All right, I’ll come.’

Luca would have preferred it if Jeromy had opted to stay on the yacht, but it was not to be. He pulled on a pair of white pants, added a narrow black crocodile belt, and headed for the door. ‘See you upstairs,’ he said, and exited fast, wondering how he was going to manage another few days of Jeromy’s company.

In retrospect he realized that he should’ve invited Suga and Luca junior on this trip with him. They would’ve loved it, and everyone would’ve loved them.

Too bad and too late. He was stuck with Jeromy.

* * *

Cliff Baxter was already on the upper deck when Luca appeared. Cliff was sipping a martini and looking very suave in a long-sleeved charcoal T-shirt and matching linen pants, his dark hair slicked back.

Idly Luca wondered if the movie star had ever taken a walk on the wild side — there were always rumours — or did just women do it for him?

‘Hey,’ Cliff said, greeting him with a smile.

‘What’s goin’ on?’ Luca responded.

‘Don’t know about you,’ Cliff said, ‘but I think I just experienced one of the best days of my life.’

‘That’s sayin’ something, comin’ from you,’ Luca remarked.

‘Yeah,’ Cliff said. ‘I came to the conclusion that Lori is a keeper.’

‘And you didn’t know that before?’ Luca asked curiously.

‘Outside influences,’ Cliff said vaguely.

‘I get it,’ Luca said. ‘Shouldn’t listen to the chorus. When I came out, none of my advisers wanted me to do it. “You’ll lose all your fans,” they warned me. Hey, you know what? I gained fans. So I did what I wanted, an’ it all worked out.’

‘I admire that,’ Cliff said.

‘You admire what?’ Bianca asked, appearing suddenly. She had a way of inserting herself into other people’s conversations as if it was a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

‘Never mind,’ Luca chided. ‘Where’s Aleksandr?’

‘He’ll be here,’ Bianca said, waving an impatient hand at Mercedes. ‘Who do you have to fuck around here to get a damn drink?’

* * *

Mercedes decided that when the time came, she would take Bianca’s clothes. Even though the supermodel was at least eight inches taller than her, she coveted the many outfits Bianca wore. The sexy bikinis with thong bottoms; the selection of wild T-shirts and designer jeans; the long skirts and backless dresses. And the jewelry. Diamond bangles, a white Chanel watch, a large aquamarine ring surrounded by diamonds. It was all expensive and ready to be taken.

The other women’s clothes were more low-key — expensive, but not flashy enough for Mercedes. When this caper was over she planned on stepping out and enjoying herself. She was thinking of buying herself a small apartment in the Seychelles — far enough away from Daddy Cruz and his heavily guarded complex in Somalia which she’d only visited a few times. Cruz hadn’t wanted her living with him anyway — ‘Too dangerous,’ he’d informed her. But he liked having her work for him. And so far she’d always blended in as one of the crew — a crew member who’d been able to supply all the information he’d needed before conducting a successful takeover.

This hijacking was different. Who expected to get taken over by Somalian pirates while quietly cruising the Sea of Cortez? Certainly not this group.

That a man of Aleksandr Kasianenko’s wealth and importance would be travelling with just one bodyguard was loco. And with a group of rich famous people aboard? Asking for trouble.

Mercedes had to admit that Cruz was one smart tiger. He’d somehow or other arranged to get his entire gang out of Somalia ready to do their thing. And Cruz’s team were a ruthless bunch who always got the job done.

Screw it! she thought, licking her finger then dipping it into Bianca’s martini before delivering it to her. I’m getting impatient. I’ve had enough of catering to these rich spoiled chingados.

The only one who treated her with any kind of respect was Luca Perez. He spoke to her in Spanish, and always asked how she was doing. Unlike his imbecil partner, whom she truly loathed with his I-am-better-than-anyone-else attitude.

Ah, if Jeromy Milton-Gold only knew how many times she’d spat in his drinks. A small satisfaction.

Meanwhile, her relationship with Kyril — such as it was — seemed to be developing nicely. Once she’d discovered his weakness for chocolate, it was all systems go. She could get into his space anytime she wanted, as long as she came bearing treats. Chocolate cake, chocolate cookies, chocolate bars, and his favourite — a full mug of hot chocolate.

He must’ve been deprived as a kid in Russia. Never gotten his chocolate fix.

At least he only craved chocolate; she wouldn’t have to screw him or service what she imagined might be a gigantic cock. Or maybe not — sometimes it was the big men who had tiny dicks. Anyway, thankfully she wouldn’t have to find out. Chocolate had paved the way, and the time would soon come to put her plan in action.