Page 28 of Married to My Master

“Just watch,” he said, as he pressed play.

It was an advertisement that had just been quietly released at the beginning of the month. He eyed her face, monitoring for any changes as she watched it.

“The jobs of our first responders put them into tough situations,” the commercial began. “Hymalete is here to help them be as tough as they need to be to keep us safe.”

A montage of policemen, firemen, first responders, soldiers, and doctors, all talking about how rough their jobs could get and how the stress and emotional demands of what they lived through made them vulnerable to anxiety and the symptoms of PTSD, filled the screen. At, the end of it, all the first responders shown in the video were standing in a line, holding prescription pill bottles with the Hymalete brand name on the side. They held them up together. “I keep working, because it keeps working,” they said, in unison.

Emily sat back in her chair, a look of shock mixed with utter disgust on her face. “I . . . I just . . .”

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Thousands have been destroyed by this drug, Emily,” he said. “And maybe thousands more will be. They deserve answers and relief from BioSphere. They were targets in all this—just innocent marks your company went after. But you have a chance to make things right, now. Print up the files, and we'll go to my reporter contact. I promise.”

# # #

Emily

Emily was furious. Blood-curdling, fire-breathing, mad-woman furious.

Edward had done this. She just knew it had to have been him. How he had gotten it greenlighted without her knowledge, though, she had no idea. The worst part of it all was that she hadn't been part of any of this. She'd done her due diligence and had thought she'd known what she was getting herself into.

Now she was blindsided by this video, this goddamned pill, all the lies, and the cover-ups that must be involved. She wanted to kick her computer monitor over and flip her desk, then go find Edward and kick his teeth in, just for getting her wrapped up in this whole mess. Barker was to blame for everything. She just knew it.

Dane's plan wouldn't work, though. She knew it wouldn't work. The media would just focus on her, as CEO, just like they had in every other big scandal. Then the board would end up serving her up on a silver platter. Hell, they might even leave Edward completely alone when the allegations and investigations began. And, boy howdy, were there going to be investigations if this all got out.

No, what she needed to do was bringing this all to the board of directors on her own. The only way she'd manage to keep the success she'd already worked so hard to attain would be do this quietly and internally, without any outside interference whatsoever. When things were handled and Edward was out of the way, she could help Dane with Benton. But not before then.

She leaned forward, switched back to the files on her screen, and typed out a series of commands, acting like she was going to print it.

“What are you…?” Dane asked, confused, trailing off.

“I'm . . . wait . . . there!” she said, deleting her copies of the files from her computer.

“What the fuck?” Dane yelled. “What did you just do? Bring them back!”

“I'm trying!” Emily lied, as she fervently looked through where the files had just been on her computer. “There's nothing there, Dane!”

“No!” he groaned loudly, one hand running back through his hair, the other rubbing down the front of his face. “They can't be! I was so close fucking close! Why did you do this to me?”

As she looked at the hurt on his face and saw the obvious failure he must have felt, she wanted to tell him how close he still was. The files were still on the servers at BioSphere. They just weren't here anymore, accessible from her home office.

Emily followed her first impulse and reached out to him, but quickly withdrew her hand. She had nothing to say and no way to comfort him. He was right. This had been his only chance. But she needed those files, regardless of what he wanted them for. She had a responsibility to her employees, and to her own ambitions. She'd come this far in life, and she still had to prove she had what it took to stay on top.

“No,” Dane growled, shaking his head. “This was it. This was my chance. And it's gone now.” He turned to her, his eyes hard, firm, and red-rimmed around the edges. His knuckles cracked as his fists balled at his sides. “It's all fucked. And it's your fault!”

Chapter Twelve

Emily

Emily braced herself for his wrath. What would it be this time? A spanking? The time out chair? Would she have to service him again? Or would he actually take the belt to her? Or worse? She cringed away from him as she tried to remind herself why she was doing this. She needed the material on Edward. She needed to make sure she could protect herself and her employees from the fallout from that bastard's treachery.

Dane's cold eyes stayed on her. But, as she watched, they began to tremble and fill with ears. He dropped to his knees, his body wracked by a single, heartfelt sob. “I failed him,” he whispered, his words coming out as a ragged, shaken moan. “I failed him, Emily.”

She was crushed and confused. She hadn't expected him to do that. That wasn't what was supposed to happen.

“Benton's stuck there now,” he groaned, as he sat back on the floor, his body against the wall. He continued to speak, his voice softer than the wind rustling the leaves in the garden. “My brother's stuck there. He's getting proper treatment now, and he knows what he did. He just wants to die, Emily. His life is hell, just sitting on death row by himself, in an empty cell, hoping his appeals will hurry up and run out.” He stopped and looked up at her, tears wetting his cheeks.

Emily tried to look away in order to preserve some sort of hardness in herself that might help her live with the decision she'd just made, but she couldn't. She stayed focused on Dane as he poured his heart out to her. It was like a knife in the gut, or a slap across the face. What had she been thinking? Yes, Dane was probably crazy, and, yeah, what he'd done to her was pretty fucked up. But he was still a human being, and she was torturing him just as much now as he had tortured her.

“I just wanted to prove to the judges, lawyers, and press that it was the medication that made him lose his shit. That was all. And it was right there. Right in front of me. There was proof that Hymalete was responsible for him killing his family. But now it's gone—slipped through my hands.” He waved dismissively. “Sand through my fucking hands, Emily!”

---