Page 280 of Hell Hath No Fury
“Isn’t it, though? Answer my question.” I don’t shake his hand.
“Well, I never; how rude.” Stephanie’s gasp is filled with indignant outrage.
“I’m not being rude, Stephanie. I asked a question, and as I’m sure your husband is aware, I’m the type of person that doesn’t like to repeat herself. Isn’t that right, Edward?” I coat his name with a velvety tone that I only ever use on my clients in a scene. Every carefully chosen word hits Edward just where I had intended, striking every submissive bone in his body. He swallows thickly and lowers his gaze.
“I-I…” He stutters and still can’t bring his gaze back up to mine.
“Isn’t that confidential information?” I keep my position but flash my gaze and the question over to the headmaster.
“It is.” The headmaster speaks.
“Did you tell her, Edward?” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. I can see he’s slipping into his submissive persona. It’s instinctual, and he can’t help it.
“I may have mentioned it.”
“And why would she want to know?”
“If you have an issue, Mrs. Sinclair, I’m sure—”
“Was I talking to you, Stephanie? No. I was talking to Edward, wasn’t I?”
“Mrs. Sinclair, please.” His expression is a mix of contrition and desperation.
“Hmmm, now where have I heard pleas like that before?” I tap my fingers lightly on my lips, humming.
“I’m not sure what is going on here, Mrs. Sinclair.” The head teacher speaks, evident confusion on his face.
“I don’t doubt that, Mr. Wilkins, but no matter. You see, there wasn’t only one breach of confidentiality. I am perfectly aware who made the negative assessment on Roman’s application and why. You see, I don’t care what you think of me, whatever misconceived prejudices you hold so dear, I really don’t. However, this isn’t about me. This is about my son, and I do care about him. You let your decision to offer him a place be swayed by a narrow-minded shrew, shame on you.”
“I’m sure this is something we can look into,” Mr. Wilkins flusters.
“Don’t bother.” I hold up my hand to stop any further fruitless gesture. Bringing my attention back to Edward, his head is dropped like a little lost boy. I tip his chin, and in my periphery, I see Stephanie’s jaw gape.
“And Edward, you told Stephanie about me. Consider yourself on a very different waitlist.” Releasing my hold, his eyelids spring wide with panic.
“No, please. What about Charlie?”
“Charlie? Edward, who’s Charlie?” Stephanie chokes, clutches her necklace, and tries to step between us to get her husband’s attention. His pathetic, pleading gaze is, however, resolutely fixed on me.
“Oh yes, Charlie told me to pass something on. Now…what was it?” Tapping my bottom lip with my finger in faux contemplation, relishing every agonising elongated second of the delaying tactic, I finally speak. “Oh, yes…Yield.” I turn to the sound of him falling to his knees. A bright satisfied smile fills my face. I lift my head high and step away.
Letting the coil of my bullwhip unravel to the floor, and as I walk away, it trails behind me like a well-trained snake. When I reach a safe distance I turn, checking there’s enough space, and hoping no-one is stupid enough to step forward, I pull it back, crack it high and loud above the stunned gathering. My heart is pounding like the beat of a heavy metal drummer on crack, so hard and loud, it drowns the noise of the blood rushing in my ears. Adrenaline courses through me, and I feel a surge of something familiar, a high, a rush of euphoria. Jason’s gaze anchors me when I turn once more to leave the room. He’s standing in the doorway, his expression a wonderful mix of awe and love. He winks and beams a smile, filled with so much pride, I feel like I’m walking on clouds. I can forget about sleeping tonight, hell, I might not sleep for a week.
CHAPTER SIX
Jason drapes my coat over my shoulders, takes my hand, and leads me outside. The icy wind whips around us, and I can’t feel a thing. I’m buzzing, high, and I know it’s freezing. However, all I feel is the fire coursing through my veins. We reach the bottom of the steps where a chauffeur is holding open the passenger door of a sleek town car. “This isn’t ours?” I say
“I think you’ll find it is. After you, Mistress.” Jason sweeps his arm and guides me into the back of the vehicle. The deep plush leather seats seem to mould around me. The ambient lighting is set to a warm glow, and the interior has a cozy, luxurious feel. There are two fresh glasses of champagne in an ice bucket in the centre console set between the driver and passenger seat and more importantly, the privacy glass is up.
“Nice car,” I say.
“Thought you’d like it.” Jason slides in next to me and the chauffeur closes the door.
“When did you sort this?” Handing Jason a glass of champagne I settle back with mine, glancing around the spacious vehicle. It’s very swish.
“Before we left the house. I had an inkling it wouldn’t be a long evening, and since we have a baby sitter for the whole night, I didn’t want it to go to waste.”
“Good thinking, Mr. S. Cheers!” We clink glasses at my toast and sip as the car pulls away and begins to weave its way across town, destination unknown.
