Page 3

CHAPTER

THREE

Cam

"Let's get the rules straight," I say to her, suddenly all business, my demeanor intentional. Mother's eyes blink exactly once, the flash of emotion a sign I've rattled her.

"Rules." It's not a question, the word drawn out as if I'm the transgressor.

"Yes. Rules. You get her heart. A kidney. I own the rest."

"Mario." Her amusement would piss me off if I let myself feel anything right now. "No takeses-backsies."

The childish term is a throwback to a life she turned into one big lie.

"I never promised you all of her."

She lets out a derisive chuckle. "I see. This isn't about which part we get. This is about your cock. You want prima nocta ."

I thought I was emotionless.

Apparently not.

Her comment is a gut kick. I can't show her that, of course. If I move one muscle the wrong way, blink half a blink too long, she'll know.

And she'll use it against me.

"If I wanted to sleep with her first, I had plenty of opportunities."

"You know you can't impregnate her."

"Excuse me?"

"You can't." The Cheshire Cat always scared me, back when I was a small child and my sister, Mira, read the Alice in Wonderland books to me. We watched one of the movies once, and I screamed as the smile appeared out of nowhere, detached and grinning, creepy and weird.

Now I know why.

Mother's face is why.

"I can do whatever I want with her. One billion dollars says so."

"Rh factor, Mario. Rh factor."

"That's– " Fuck. I'm rattled. I can't afford to be rattled. "That's about blood type."

"Yes. And she's prime for breeding."

"I never said I wanted to breed her."

"You'd be a fool not to. The newest lab tests show she's a perfect match for the Luisi family. Perfect . Her bloodline could secure theirs for a very long time. You need to breed her with them."

"With the Luisis? Breed her with them ?" The thought of letting another man touch her turns me into a nuclear weapon. But letting my adoptive family have their way with her is one hell of a leveled-up kind of torture.

The thought of forcing Paigelynn to produce baby after baby whose organs will be used to sustain those fuckwads is just as bad.

Letting a Luisi climb on her like an animal and rut his juices into her for the sake of their bloodline makes me want to destroy the planet.

I cannot show one shred of those feelings, though.

So, instead, I go slack. Cold.

Deadly .

"You aren't making sense."

"I'm making perfect sense. A young, fertile girl like her can produce eight or nine babies in the next decade, if cared for properly. Rooney found the golden goose, Mario. And he has found three more, one of them perfect for the Donegals."

Ah. So that's why he sat next to Mother at the auction. He's their savior.

The man of God turns out to be the one who can resurrect the billionaires from near death and keep them immortal.

Because he brings the right sheep into the fold.

Dealers always have the upper hand with their addicts.

All of my old boss Debbie's work has been about this moment. It feels like a lifetime ago but was just a couple of weeks. Being recruited to hack into the DNA databases to work with an unnamed agency felt like a dream. Too good to be true.

Because it was.

Debbie didn’t magically find me. I placed myself in her path after years of having my ear to the ground. She’s smart. Sharp. Determined. Something drives her to find these girls and to bring this network down. And she knew how to build the right tech team.

Months of dealing with Newman and his chip crumbles on keyboards, all the referential integrity errors I had to clean up after him, all leads up to this.

The organ brokers are winning.

More than winning.

They're creating a breeding colony.

And Paigelynn is the first perfect specimen.

"What does this and Rh factors have to do with my right to do whatever I wish with Paigelynn?"

"Your blood type is B+. Hers is O-. Don't you remember basic biology lessons?" She sniffs. "You got that from your father."

"You ripped me out of regular school when I was eight, Mother," I snap back. "Taught me all that mythology cult Gaia bullshit." I know what Rh factor means. As long as Paigelynn gets a special shot at some point in the pregnancy, she can safely have my baby.

Babies . More than one. But Rh factors that don't align are a flaw, in Mother's eyes.

No organ from another body can have even a hint of flaw in it. And if they plan to get eight or nine babies out of Paigelynn, there's no room for imperfections.

Except flaw is just another word for humanity.

Which means there's no room for anyone being human in this world.

Satisfaction gleams in her eyes. She reaches up and gently taps my cheek.

"Poor boy. Spending your entire life playing catch-up.

If only you'd learned the right lessons.

Perhaps you will in time. I see you've come back into the fold, bringing me a lovely tribute.

Keep learning, Mario. You have quite a way to go, but I believe in you. "

Any other mother saying those words would be viewed as firm but loving.

Hearing it from her, it's all one long insult.

"You're right," I lie, the words causing her to blink more than once, surprise evident as she takes in my response. "I cannot undo my past, but I am an adult now. I choose my future."

The door creaks open, Mother making a sound.

Before I can say more, a warm hand presses against my shoulder blade.

The tension deepens, and I turn to find myself face-to-face with Sandor Javics.

As billionaires go, he flies under the radar.

A distant cousin of the Donegal family, no one takes him seriously.

When you're so many generations into a wealthy family and you accomplish absolutely nothing on your own except being known for drinking thirty vodka shots in a row and beating a Russian oligarch, you become the jester.

"Mario! Great purchase," Sandor says, giving me a hug.

He reeks of sour alcohol and sweat, the faint accent in his words so slight it just makes him sound cultured.

"I hear we'll have more auctions in ten months or so.

" The wink he gives me as we pull apart makes Mother's smile widen, though her eyes dart with disgust.

She can't stand Sandor.

The only reason he's here is because the Donegals know he has solid access to the Romanian mafia, and that means controlling enormous swaths of coders.

If code is the new law, coders are the new legislators. Control them and you control the world.

Every bit of this farce relies on data mining. Social engineering that gets people to cough up their information without thinking.

Then using that data against them.

"You think I should breed her?" I ask, just loud enough to turn a few heads.

"You'd waste such a wonderful opportunity if you didn't," he replies in a low, appeasing voice, the words slurred just enough to reveal how drunk he is. Jovial and always grinning, Sandor has a casual manner to him.

All surface, no bottom.

"I think Mario's upset he can't be the father," my mother purrs, joining in the banter with Sandor. His nose is red, the rest of his face a nicely tanned shade. A long nose, wide at the nostrils, and thinning hair round out a pleasant, friendly appearance.

"Ah. Rh factor, right?"

I see I've been talked about behind the scenes.

Or my blood has, anyway.

"Right," I say with a tight smile, fighting to find equilibrium again. Sandor and Mother have a hushed conversation as I compose my thoughts. I hear the words "Alpha 1" and "CKD" as well as "stem cells" thrown about, all with gusto and excitement.

The fact that so many of them think of Paigelynn as a baby factory changes the calculus here. Mother wants her heart. Needs her heart. But my mother is, above all, pragmatic. More babies mean more suitable organs, and she's now in a position of power.

The sooner Paigelynn conceives, the sooner she can dangle that baby in front of a Donegal. Each baby turns Mother into the center of attention.

Babies aren't just about organs. Rich cord blood, the mother's colostrum, and a host of other tissues round out the value. What they're doing here isn't just about turning human beings into parts to be swapped out for health span and longevity.

It's about using control over these parts for power .

Wealth equals power, of course. That's capitalism at its finest. You're worth more as a human if you're, well... worth more.

What's even more valued than money?

Life.

Not the lives of peons. Not the masses, either.

The life of a wealthy person.

Billionaires can find ways to amass more and more money, but they can't acquire years . No merger, no acquisition, no trust fund, no grift gets you health.

It just gives you a fatter bank account.

A few decades ago, one of the smarter billionaires took the long-acknowledged reality that once you have enough money to compete with small countries, laws don't apply to you.

And if laws don't apply, you can do anything.

Anything.

To any one .

And thus was born this network of organ brokers.

When Gaia fell, the Vestal Virgins were born. Rooney joined with the Luisis, and later the Donegals, and this whole scheme unfolded. Add in the consumer-focused company for the genetic data mining, connect it to the megachurches, find enough impressionable parents and girls and...

And you get Paigelynn.

Achievement unlocked.

Billionaire health span extended.

Who needs morality when you have unlimited power?

One of the Donegals is going to impregnate Paigelynn. That's clearly Mother's plan. She's all about splitting power into small bits she can control. While a Luisi is a perfect fit biologically with Paigelynn, giving a Donegal a baby is a power play.

"Giving" Paigelynn to her was a ruse on my part, one designed to keep up appearances. Beg forgiveness. Come back into the fold.

And buy Paigelynn some time.

And now Mother plans to have the ultimate power in this world.

The power of conferring a baby to a Donegal.

Speaking of which...