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  "He must have been...out of control." I couldn't help but think about my incident with Tonya. How close had I come to choking her just a little too much, or hitting her a little too hard? "So, he got worse. Do you think Isa knew?"

  For the first time in our conversation, Senga looked away, out the window.

  "Yes. She definitely knew. He hurt her or allowed someone else to. I don't know how or why, but...he did."

  "As badly as he hurt me?"

  "You mean the beatings? God, that was awful. I'm sorry that you had to go through with it. No, I don't think he hit her...at least not so bruises would show but...Reuben, this is very hard to say. I loved your father, but I think someone was sexually abusing your sister, and he knew about it. Even allowed it."

  I must have looked like an idiot with my jaw open, tea forgotten halfway to my lips. My mouth was dry, and I could hear my blood pulsing in my ears.

  "Did you witness this?"

  "Somewhat. I caught him leaving one of the drawing rooms that he used to entertain small groups of guests. He was with someone that he obviously thought was important. Older, obviously being treated like a VIP, but I never learned his name. I went in to clean up after them and save some work for the maids. Isa was in there, sort of sitting on the desk. She was crying, her shirt was torn, and she was pulling her skirt back down. Of course, I recognized the smell of sex right away. I didn't know her well, and I didn't want to make things worse, so I left before she noticed me. Around that time was when Isa started to get more distant. She probably thought she was hiding her feelings well, but I'd known her or at least observed her for a long time. The difference was obvious to me. I know what you're going to say. Why didn't I do something or call someone?"

  I shook my head.

  "I'm not going to say that, Senga, because there was nothing you could have done, not really. Whoever you called would have likely been in Father's pocket. Whatever you did to intervene might lead to your death or Isa's situation getting worse. I...I think I feared this was the case. I wonder if...if it was happening while I was still here." It would explain why Isa wouldn't leave with me, but Senga shook her head.

  "No. I mean, she was depressed after you left. You were close, obviously. But she recovered as best she could. This happened maybe a year or so later. Honestly, your return has been the best thing for her. She's been more open and outgoing then I've seen her in years, even with your mother's death. Please...please be gentle with her. Whatever the circumstances, I guarantee you that she was under duress and alone."

  If what I was seeing was an improvement in Isa then I had reason to be worried. I looked at Senga. Did she know about Isa and me? It was possible. We tried to be secretive, but we were basically hormone-driven eighteen-year-olds. No, she simply feared that my response to finding out about what happened might be the same as my father at his worst: punish everyone, ask questions later.

  "I won't, Senga. You've been a big help, and I won't forget it."

  I finished my tea and stood up to leave. She caught up with me at the door.

  "If you want to pay me back, come visit me some night when you're not on business. I promise I'll make you happy, and if what Sarah says is true, then you'll make me very happy."

  She giggled charmingly and closed the door. I hadn't expected Sarah to gossip about me. Ironically, Senga had mentioned my other nagging concern. Sarah. What did she know? Isa trusted her, but could I? Did she have an agenda? Perhaps I was paranoid, but I had a notion that she was holding something back from me.

  I had to find out what.

  * *

  "So," Sarah said at dinner a few nights later, "I found out who the jerk was like you asked."

  I smiled at her, and she blushed under my pleased reaction. It was hard not to like someone so cute.

  "Really? That was fast."

  "Who is the, uh, 'jerk'?"

  Isa looked at both of us in confusion, and I chuckled. Sarah answered for both of us.

  "The 'jerk' is the man who tried to start trouble with Reuben last week at the Brigantine. I made some calls today. They were all about denial and discretion until I demonstrated that I was calling on behalf of the De Heer family. Then I got the security footage and gave it to Rachel. She ran it through the facial recognition programs that our security staff has. The masks made it difficult, but I asked her to just run them against people of a particular net value or higher, you know, people that your father might have offended or been in business with. The only person who matches his height, weight, and facial characteristics is Vincent Trevante."

  I didn't know who she meant, but Isa did.

  "Hmm," Isa said, "he's young. About our age. And if I'm not mistaken, he recently inherited access to the Trevante Syndicate. That's what they call themselves. They're a bit like us, in that they have a polite legal facade and then a deep connection with various unsavory types. I think that they specialize in smuggling and human trafficking. They don't have the kind of wealth and influence we do, but they certainly aren't to be ignored."

  "Well," I said, "then I suppose we should keep an eye out for any moves he could make against us. I have no idea why he wanted to cause trouble with me, however."

  "He's a man, driven by arrogance and insecurity," Isa said bluntly, "He probably just wanted to make himself look more powerful by bringing you down. It certainly backfired on him."

  "You're probably right," I said in return, then added, "Good job, Sarah. I expected that to take a week, not a day."

  Sarah blushed and locked eyes with me. She was pleased by my praise, and I knew by the look she had just given me that she'd visit me later that evening. I looked forward to it.

  * *

  I heard the knock at my door, perhaps a little later than I had expected. That wasn't the only surprise. I wasn't prepared for the sight I beheld when I opened the door.

  Typically, Sarah and I were reasonably causal in how we dressed for our night encounters. Whether I went to her or she came to me, we were basically just in what we liked to sleep in. One of us might bring a bag with toys or a change if we intended to stay the night (the house was big enough to feel like less like a mansion and more like a series of apartments). Sarah usually slept in an oversized tee-shirt and boy shorts-style underwear. There was no doubt that she made that outfit look amazing, but she was really dolled up tonight.

  Sarah had her hair done neatly, and her makeup was simple and in a "natural" style that I knew took a lot of time to get right. Her lipstick was a bright, shameless red that I loved on her. She wore a loosely belted and very short black robe. As I watched, she indeed the belt and let it open to reveal what was underneath. She wore a white, lacy bustier, which pushed her small breasts up as if holding them for display. It only had a half cup for support, so all of the top and half of each nipple was revealed for my enjoyment. Her panties were tiny and sheer. I could easily see that she had shaved entirely, and the transparent material couldn't hide how swollen and wet she was. I didn't know what the occasion was, and to be honest, I didn't much care. I knew that I wanted her badly.

  I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her inside quickly. She yelped and giggled in surprise, and then slipped out of my grip as I shut the door. I was left holding only the black silk robe, which I carelessly cast on a chair. Sarah sat down on the bed, crossing her legs with false modesty, before sitting back and posting as pretty as any pin-up. She patted the bed next to her, and I sat eagerly. It was a bit unusual to see her taking charge, but we both were enjoying it. Sarah leaned in and whispered into my ear.

  "Can I tell you something naughty?"

  Sarah's tone was teasing, but beneath it, there was a hint of something else, perhaps nervousness.

  "Yes," I said, and before I could say more, she leaned into me and kissed me, slipping her tongue inside of my mouth. I loved her taste, but there was something just a little different tonight.

  "So, before I came down here, I made a quick stop in Isa's room. You'll never guess wher
e my tongue was just a few minutes ago..."

  Holy shit. I was already hard, but this...this was almost too much. I felt my control slipping as I gripped her hair at the base of her neck and pulled back hard. She gasped, but her lips were parted, and she was breathing very hard. Her eyes showed nothing but trust and invitation. God, she was amazing.

  I pulled her in and kissed her again, fiercely. I released her from my grip, sensing that she wanted to take charge to some degree tonight. She broke free and then gently pushed me away, but only to guide me with light touches onto my back. She turned the bedside lamp on, dispelling the darkness of the room and showing herself off in the soft light and shadow. I didn't mind at all, but she usually preferred the lights to be off, retaining a bit of shyness. She smiled down at me then pulled the loose pants off. I lifted my hips to help her. They were the only clothes that I had been wearing.

  Sarah casually stroked my cock and looked down at me.

  "Can I take care of you tonight, Reuben? Will you let me do that?"

  I nodded, and Sarah positioned herself so that she was at my side and took my cock in her mouth down to the root. I groaned and rubbed her back. She moved her head up and down, gagging but not stopping. She moved with a strange intensity, and I will admit that the feel of her little tongue and tight mouth nearly made me cum right there. She released my cock with a little pop and smiled at me.

  "Do you want to cum inside me tonight, Reuben? I'd like that quite a bit..."

  Sarah's eyes showed intense arousal, but something bothered me, just a little. My train of thought was broken by her straddling me, facing away, in reverse cowgirl. She bent way over to do so, more than she had too, and I could see that her panties were, in fact, crotchless. Her wetness gleamed in the soft lighting, and her pose enflamed my desire. She arched her back and held that position for longer than was necessary, rose up, and started to guide my cock inside of her. She looked over her shoulder as she slowly rode down its length, moaning loudly.

  "Fuck," I said eloquently. She squeezed my cock as she finished. Then gave me a lovely little smile and started riding me.

  It was different than ever before, and not just because she was in charge. In a way, she wasn't. She was on top and in control, but I could tell that she wanted to please me, and she was. She moved up and down, and I put my hands on her svelte hips. She moved even more intensely, arching her back and crying out. She came, and it was real, and it almost pushed me over.

  "Please, Reuben...say it," Sarah gasped without looking over her shoulder.

  "Say what?"

  "Say that you love me. Please!"

  I wasn't expecting that at all. I did love her, at least a little bit, but I'd never expected her to demand to be told. That didn't feel like her at all. Of course, I thought of that in the afterglow. Not at the moment. At the moment, I just needed to cum, and I wanted to make her happy.

  "I love you, Sarah," I gasped.

  "No, shit, I mean, fuck, I'm cumming!"

  I groaned as well, emptying myself inside her, not thinking about her words or behavior or anything but filling her with my seed. When it was done, she smoothly rolled off of me and moved up and kissed me, long and slow. Then, without a word, she stood up, picked up her robe from the chair, put it on, and left, closing the door quietly.

  I was left tired and only partly sated. More importantly, I was filled with a deep concern that I was too tired to cope with at the moment. She typically stayed after sex and always wanted to talk and cuddle. Everything about this encounter was a bit odd. I passed into a fitful sleep of dreams that I was happy not to remember.

  * *

  I woke in the morning feeling somewhat rested but not relieved. The way Sarah had acted the previous night had been strange, even for our situation. She had been...performative. It made me worry that I'd never truly understood her.

  No. Last night had been an exception, not the rule. I wondered if it had even been her idea. I hadn't asked her, but she'd showed up at ten pm on the dot, as if on a schedule.

  The question was if she was performing on a schedule, who was it for?

  Fortunately, I had some secret skills. By which I mean, I had google on my phone. I took the chance that I wasn't that closely monitored, which was a risk. If we were being recorded, then a night-vision camera would be required. That would need infrared light, and apparently, most phones had a camera that could detect infrared. A few minutes later, I'd downloaded an inexpensive app.

  I got up and closed the shades, and turned off the lights. The room plunged into darkness with just a hint of light escaping from the bottom of the windows. I fired up the app and moved it around the room. I didn't even need it, as it turned out.

  The app handily put a little red box around every IR light it found, but the lights were plainly visible on my phone's screen. Five. I counted five separate sources of infrared light. Two were in upper corners, one was in the wall at the foot of the bed, one was in the headboard itself, and one was embedded in the ceiling, directly above where I would sleep. Or where I'd fucked Sarah.

  They were, to my mind, precisely the kinds of viewpoints that someone would want if they were interested in some involuntary amateur pornographic entertainment. For just a moment, I was enraged.

  I didn't fight it. That didn't work. I shared my father's anger issues, to be sure, but I also shared his iron will. I let the anger pass through me, allowed the unwanted images of violence to run through my mind, but I didn't focus on it. I stood and breathed. Whatever action I took would have to be careful. This could be anything from someone blackmailing me to Sarah having some private agenda to a security guard getting their rocks off on being a voyeur. The less I appeared to be aware of the problem, the less likely anyone would be able to cover up the issue or get away before I could confront them. And I wanted to confront them.

  I got dressed, much like any other day. I took my time. When I left my room, I turned left instead of right towards the small dining area where Isa, Sarah, and I typically had breakfast. I was hoping that, like most mornings, Sarah would be compiling some last-minute reports for my sister to read. I was right.

  Sarah's office was small, really not much bigger than a cubicle, but it was cozy, too. There was inlaid dark wood on the walls with images of figures in worship, as the room had been a small family chapel at one point. She was typing with one hand, mousing with the other, and had a pen in her mouth. Her messy hair and untucked shirt told me that she'd probably gotten up late after our activities. In other words, she looked rather adorable. It almost blunted the tip of my anger.

  Almost.

  Sarah looked up at me and smiled. Before, I would have called her smile eager, perhaps even loving. Now? I didn't know. How good of an actress was she? I gave her a thin smile in return and crooked my finger at her. She jumped up and followed me out into the hall.

  "What's this..." she started, but I put my finger to my lips. I led her down a short corridor and then outside. The back of our house was partially landscaped, but groves of natural trees were everywhere, presenting a mix of natural and man-made scenery. I led Sarah into a small group of fruit trees about fifty yards away. Their leaves were mostly dead, but not all of them had fallen yet. They rustled ominously in the chill morning breeze.

  Sarah stopped before I did. I turned around and looked at her, keeping my anger in check and my face neutral.

  "Reuben," Sarah said as if noticing her surroundings for the first time, "why did you take me out here?" Her voice quavered just slightly with fear.

  I ignored her question.

  "Is there anything you want to tell me? Now is the time."

  Sarah's mouth opened and closed once. She looked around, but there was no one. She ignored my question too.

  "Are...are you going to hurt me? Is that why we're out here?"

  There was no deception in her eyes. Her arms were crossed protectively over herself. Sarah knew what my father had been like, and that made her fear me. She was smart, though,
and didn't try to run. There was no point running from a De Heer when you were on his property. You'd just make him angrier.

  "No. I will not harm you. I wanted to have this conversation with you where there was a small chance that we weren't being recorded. I will confess that a certain part of me wanted to push you up against the wall of the corridor and simply demand the truth, but no, I care about you too much to ever truly hurt you. I want...well I wanted to make you happy. That doesn't really matter now. You knew about the cameras."

  I didn't ask it as a question, and she didn't answer it like one. She simply nodded and looked down.

  "Is it for blackmail? Does Isa want more control over me? Or is it some game you're playing on your own?"

  "Reuben ...it's not like that..."

  "Then what is it like? Do you and my sister sit in bed and laugh at my performance? Is it a joke?"

  "No! I...we would never..."

  "Then explain it to me."

  Sarah froze, completely. She was, in the end, not a very good actress. Her heart was on her sleeve the majority of the time. In this case, it was evident that she was deeply conflicted.

  "I...I can't."

  "No," I said coldly, "you won't. There's a difference. Did we ever have sex without being recorded?"

  Sarah shook her head.

  I turned to walk away, then stopped and looked back at her. There were tears in her eyes.

  "Don't come to my room again," I said, before stalking back to the house.

  I thought about going to get my breakfast in the kitchen but decided that I'd rather not avoid confrontation. I went to eat with my sister.

  When I arrived she was reading something on her phone, then her eyes darted up to meet mine, narrow and sharp as razors. She was wearing a roomy sweater over simple slacks. It hung off of one of her ivory shoulders and was quite fetching.

  "I assume that was Sarah," I said as I filled my plate and poured myself a coffee.