Page 16 of Vicious

My finger hovers over one entry in my digital calendar.

Call w/ mother, listed in Chinese.

I should cancel that. It would free up at least an hour, and I won’t need to listen to her trying to guilt trip me into moving back to Beijing and being the proper heir to the family or whatever. It’s not like anybody in Beijing actually wants me there—no, my grandfather had made it very clear what he thought of me and my mixed blood.

Considering how rich my father is, and how he runs one of the largest hotel chains in Europe, you’d think they would have forgiven him for not being Chinese.

Of course, my father isn’t that pleased with me either, since he wants me in London to take over the business there.

There’s a reason I chose to study in New Bristol and lay down my roots here.

I put my phone into my pocket without canceling the call. After a quick look into the mirror to ensure my beard and mustache are properly in place and my hair looks impeccable, I grab the tray with the pre-prepared breakfast and head down to the basement. I don’t bother to knock before entering May’s room.

Her cell, really, but that’s just semantics.

She sits up in bed when I enter, pulling the sheet above her breasts as though that will stop me from seeing her in any way I please. Scowling, she mutters, “I was hoping you weren’t serious about returning.” Despite the expression, her voice trembles a little, and I can’t help but smirk. I know better than to think she really wanted me to abandon her down here.

I hold up the tray of food. “I thought you might be hungry. When’s the last time you ate, Ah-May?”

Ah-May, like we’re close friends.

She doesn’t speak Chinese all that well, but she understands the significance of that phrasing. I can see the way the nickname irritates her, and I want all of those reactions. I need to find all her vulnerable parts and pull them open, tease them and prod them until she’s in tears and unsure whether to thank me or curse me.

“Stop calling me that,” she hisses like a wildcat, her fingers clutching the blankets so hard that her knuckles turn white.

“But you don’t want me to call you anything else, either.” I muse, placing the tray on the table by the heavy chair, just out of reach of the chain.

She watches me warily. “Why would you call me anything nice at all?” she retorts. “You’ve already made it pretty clear that I’m just your toy.”

“Oh, I just like the irony.” I cut up the waffle on the plate and take a bite. Even reheated, it’s perfectly done. The cook comes by a few times a week to prepare meals I can heat up on the go. I’ll have to have her make more generous portions so I can share them more easily with May. I won’t be able to simply eat out as much as I usually do in between clients.

May eyes me, and I hear her stomach growl. I can’t imagine Giulio gives the girls at Ntimacy much to eat, and I haven’t fed her since she got here. She blushes adorably, then looks past me at the wall. “You’re a d—” She coughs. “Jerk.” That was absolutely not what she was going to say, and I laugh.

“Hey, I’ve heard worse, usually at work.” I cut up more of the waffles and finally bring a single plate closer to May. I sit down on the edge of the bed and set the plate next to me. “Now, I could force you to eat from my fingers. But I do want you to eat, and I don’t have time to argue with you about the necessity of food. So today, you can enjoy the meal and the only cost is sitting next to me.”

May considers me for a moment, still looking wary. “That’s the only cost?” she asks after a pause. “You aren’t going to do anything else to me?”

“I mean, we can if you want! I’ve got a flogger I’ve been meaning to break in, but you probably want to get your energy up before we go for anything so vigorous.” I stroke my beard thoughtfully. “Unless it’s like swimming, and we should save the eating for later so your stomach doesn’t cramp.”

“I just want to eat,” she says quickly. “But I don’t want you deciding that me eating means you can do anything you want to me.”

I laugh. “You don’t have to eat for me to do anything I want to you.”

She draws in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, looking very much like she’s counting to five in her mind.

“So, what’ll it be? Food first, or pain?” I pick up a corner of the sheet she’s wearing and run it through my fingers.

She grasps the fabric a little harder, her chin lifting in a stubborn set. “Oh, gee, I get a decision? How kind of you.”

“I’m very generous,” I agree, smiling. “I dutifully do all the pro bono work I’m required to, and I donate to local food banks regularly. I also sponsor the local Chinese American society and help fund English classes for immigrants. I am a very well-respected pillar of the community.”

May snorts, a sound that’s completely at odds with her delicate, pretty little face. “Even pillars can crumble,” she points out, but she and I both know what I’m getting at: even if she was to escape, no one would listen to her accusations against me.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I point out. “Food or pain?”

She stares at me. “What kind of pain?” she asks, her voice cautious. Wary.

Intrigued, though she’d never admit that.

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