Page 3 of Sadist (The Triarchy Collection #1)
THEO
A s far as falls from grace go, this one has been fucking spectacular.
Eleven years have passed since I was thrown in front of the three Chairs with a gun to my temple and offered a contract.
Eleven years I have bled for this company, clawing my way up the ladder to become one of The Triarchy’s elite…
because I love my job, despite how I fell into it.
The Triarchy dwells in the darkest of morally grey corners as it circles the lowest levels of humanity.
One foot on either side of the morality line, so to speak, and this is the foot—the kidnap, ransom, and blackmail of select individuals in the name of a dubious Robin Hood idealism—that has never quite sat right with me.
Even monsters have weaknesses, and The Triarchy has no problem exploiting them.
I lifted my eyes from their respectful focus on the floor, and I met the steely grey glare that I knew intimately well and held it as I chose my words carefully.
“I brought in the Vanguard girl as requested—but babysitting, Erryn? Give it to one of the others.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly at my casual use of her first name, her gaze flashing to the two screens that lit the room with a shadowed figure on each. London, Paris, and Rome. The three heads of The Triarchy, never to be in the same location, but present for all major decisions.
Apparently, I had really fucked up.
It was Boucher—the Parisian Chair—who answered me, his thick accent dripping with disdain.
“Loxley has assured us of her faith in your ability, regardless of your disgraceful handling of the Obáir job.”
I slowly slid my gaze from Erryn to Boucher, studying the faceless silhouette on the screen.
“My specialty has never been in this division of the company,” I said bluntly. “I have no knowledge of the protocols, nor am I placed to detain hostages for long periods. I have always detained, and then hande?—”
“I have arranged a task force for you and assigned myself as handler,” Erryn cut in. “And your cells are perfectly adequate,” she added with a touch of annoyance.
“You?” I raised a brow at her, earning myself another icy glare.
Erryn Loxley, the savage head of the UK chapter, would only risk scuffing her Christian Louboutins descending into the murky depths of my playground for one of two reasons…
and we hadn’t been intimate in over eight months.
Which meant I was at risk of losing my position, life, or both.
I turned my body to block the two screens that watched in silence as I let my gaze drift lower to the waist of her impeccable black dress, lingering on the spot at her hip where an old bullet wound still bothered her.
“I didn’t realize you were still taking field jobs.”
She didn’t look at me as she leaned to pick up a file from her desk and flicked through it, but I noticed the way her jaw clenched and how she shifted in her heels, as if my words had reminded her of the ever-present ache of the old injury.
“I have assigned Zichen and O’Malley to you. O’Malley has experience in this sector, I’m sure he will be happy to offer some guidance. Use them as you need.”
I was already pushing it, judging from the cold purr to her voice, but it didn’t stop me from giving her a disgusted look.
“O’Malley couldn’t guide himself out of a one-way tunnel,” I argued. “Are you being serious right now?”
Crossing the space between us with slow, measured steps, she handed me the file.
“Deadly fucking serious,” she said under her breath. “Don’t fight me on this, Theodora. You have no other options. Everything you need to know is in there, and I’ve arranged for your team to report to you at noon. I trust you will handle this with discretion.”
There was something in her expression that caught my attention. A flash of something I hadn’t seen from her before. Concern.
I took the file with a short dip of my chin.
“Good girl,” she murmured. The two words were little more than a breath as she smirked, all traces of concern wiped away, her cool mask firmly back in place.
I glared at her, hating that she could still evoke a visceral reaction from me with the praise she wielded like a weapon, but she had already turned back to the other Chairs and on to the next agenda item, my dismissal delivered with a flick of her elegant fingers.
Seething, I glanced at my watch as I turned on my heel to leave.
1100hrs. Great, no time for breakfast then.
Not even the breakneck speed I pushed my motorcycle to eased the irritation that had been slowly building since everything had unraveled.
One safe. One god-damned safe had taken me from having my pick of jobs to being forced to dabble in the one area of this company that made me deeply uncomfortable.
Relieved to see my assigned team hadn’t arrived yet, I passed through the security system, taking the elevator up to the main level as I thumbed through the file Erryn had given me.
Most of it was the bare-bones information I already knew about my house guest, but a familiar green and white logo grabbed my attention. Vanguard Technology, which I assumed was the connection I was looking for.
Octavia’s father was William Vanguard, who had inherited the global tech giant. Under his leadership, the company had grown exponentially over the last couple of decades. And there, in black and white, was the reason his daughter was now sitting in my cell.
“Oh William, you sweet summer child,” I murmured, punching in the code on the illuminated keypad to my living quarters without looking. “You flew too close to the sun on this one.”
Vanguard tech had been incorporated into The Triarchy database two months ago, causing persistent issues. The search engines that I usually had unlimited access to had crashed and needed to be re-coded in the new security systems, which had impacted a number of jobs.
I swore as I read through the next part and took in the true extent of what I had taken on.
Vanguard was attempting extortion. And clearly, he did not do his research on his target.
Decades of damning information that The Triarchy would eliminate anyone to keep quiet, was now caught behind a firewall controlled by Vanguard, and Erryn had been the deciding vote to have the systems upgraded.
There was a large part on the next page that had been redacted, and from the information around it, I guessed it detailed his demands.
Not that I needed to know that anyway. It was my job to get between him and the company and turn the tables on him. Pick him apart and find his weaknesses.
No wonder she wanted this kept discreet . I scanned the next few pages, taking in as much information as I could quickly.
Octavia Vanguard, only known direct relative of William Vanguard.
I skimmed past a page of unnecessary information that I already knew about her.
Trade of hostage for full dissolution of Vanguard tech from Triarchy software and return of master files.
An old termination on sight for William had been amended to capture and detain—but that was no surprise with the delicate nature of how he now held Erryn’s balls in his hand.
Either way, it was near impossible. The man and his wife rarely left his fortress of a home, and if he did, his security detail was impenetrable. I guess we now knew why.
My unlucky little rage-filled hostage was in a world of trouble, and none of it was her fault. This is the part that didn’t sit right with me. Not to mention the way that after only a short time sitting with her, I found her fascinating.
I have seen every reaction under the sun to realizing your life is in someone else’s hands. Anger, bargaining, threatening. I was used to every angle that had ever been taken—until I met Octavia Vanguard. She had thrown every assumption I had made about the heiress into the wind.
She had laughed. And in that moment, I had wanted to do unspeakable things to her. Depraved, filthy things…which was less than an ideal situation when, if this turned south, I would be her jury and executioner as well.