Page 31 of Never Broken

The only difference was I had gotten better at hiding it.

When Wainwright-Phillipsfinallylooked up from his laptop as if he’d just realized I was there, I quickly threw my gaze to the floor, fast enough that there was no way he could have known how closely I’d been studying him.

Nobody I knew was better at that.

“What do you know about the financial situation of this household, boy?”

Um, okay. That definitely wasn’t among the list of questions I’d been expecting. Which meant it was probably a trick.

“Relax. It’s not a trick.”

I raised an eyebrow, something I’d never get away with in a million years with most masters. But for some reason, with him, I decided to give it a try.

“Look, I know you’re smart enough to be able to answer that question,” he continued obliviously. “I knew you were smart when I bought you, but in a few days, you’ve managed to outdo even my own expectations for a slave.”

That “for a slave” part was priceless, wasn’t it? Still, he hadn’t said anything about the eyebrow, so it evened out.

“So tell me.”

I took a deep breath. It may not be a trick, but it was an important question, and the answer I gave would matter if I had any hope of keeping my neck off the chopping block. That meantYou went crazy and flushed all your money down the toiletwasn’t the right thing to say, even if it was true. Time to bring on the bullshit. “I know you’re currently seeking some strategic new ventures to stabilize your financial position.”

To my surprise, he smiled. “Right answer. Buying you was one of those strategic ventures, I see.”

I exhaled. This conversation was already going in an unexpected direction, but that was no reason to let my guard down.

“I’m pursuing a business venture with Max Langer—I presume that at some point you’ve heard his name?”

“Yes, sir. He’s the Phoenix tech wizard who created the FableFlow app, sold the company, made his first hundred million dollars, and is now CEO of Orbital Dynamics, the company pioneering the use of reusable rockets. He’ll be abillionaire before he’s fifty if all goes well. In short, he’s exactly who youshouldbe partnering with. Not that you asked for my opinion, sir.”

Wainwright-Phillips coughed and took a sip of water. Fuck my curiosity, my mouth, and my tendency to push things too far, but to my surprise, he recovered quickly, smiled, and nodded. “Good. In any case, you’ll meet him later this week as he’s coming to a dinner party, at which I’ll expect you to serve. You don’t know this—even some of my closest associates don’t—but unlike them, I didn’t start out on third base. I worked my way through school, then started at the bottom rung of the corporate ladder so I could give my family everything they deserve. I’ve done that, and now the fact that I may lose it all has been … difficult.”

I’m a fucking slave, you dipshit. Forgive me for not weeping for you.

“In any case, you may as well know I’ve made a decision to embark on a venture with Mr. Langer that some may call risky, but that I predict will pay off handsomely down the line when the new product—top secret, of course—launches. In the meantime, this household has been on a shoestring budget as I’m sure you’ve noticed, which is hurting my wife and daughter immensely. It’s so far from the lifestyle they’re accustomed to.”

Remember what I just said about weeping?

“I suppose I’m biased, but Louisa is one of the most determined and driven people I know, even though I admit I’ve spoiled her, which isn’t doing her any favors now. But she’s determined to make her own way in life, and the pressure to earn her degree is causing her a great deal of stress. I regret that there’s not much I can do, science having never been my forte.” He paused, peering down his nose at me. “So I guess it doesn’t surprise me why she decided to enlist some unconventional studying techniques.”

Boom. There it was. I swallowed, my mouth so parched I could hardly open it.

“Tell me, why didn’t you ask permission first before tutoring my daughter?”

“Sir, I?—“

“The ironic thing is that if you had asked, I would have allowed it. But you went behind my back, and you have to be punished for that. I think five lashes should do it.”

I swallowed and bent my head, even in my relief that I was being punished for a lesser offense than the one I’d actually been afraid of being found guilty of. Sometimes that was all a slave had to give thanks for.

“Yes, sir.”

“The gardener will do it in the back by the shed. It’s more civilized to have another slave do it, I’ve found.”

I’d heard of that practice. Apparently, it was more common in New North America than in New Europe, where punishments in private households were often meted out by hired handlers. But of course, it was also cheaper, and it was official now: Wainwright-Phillips was broke. It also seemed clear that he himself had no intention of being there. To him, it was just another rote, mildly unpleasant business task he could outsource, like ordering an assistant to fix a jammed copier.

“And before you assume anything, no, Louisa did not tell me, so you have no reason to hold anything against her. I found out on my own. You’re not the only clever one in this house.”

I believed him that Louisa hadn’t told; if she’d wanted her father to know, she would have asked him right off the bat. But I would have to figure out who had told, and soon, because that person would need tight supervision and maybe a punch in the teeth for good measure.

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