Page 34 of The Guru: Shadow
Ialmost lost control last night.
It had never happened before. Ever. Control was the only thing that never left him – the only constant in his existence. He had lost it by choice; it was planned and thus still controlled. Now, seeing it crumble just by a single moment, by one of her looks, by one action he did not predict, was frightening. Not the frightening way other people seemed to understand it, but in the way he did not have all the power over her. It gave her power over him, and it was something he was unable to deal with.
What if I am unable to control it next time?
What if I am unable to stop?
And most of all, what if she uses the power against me?
The wise thing would be to stay away from her, for his own sake and peace. Especially as everything is turning out as it does with the business, Delilah and her bastard father. The dedication of his life was this one single thing: revenge. And although he had planned for Emma to be his crown jewel, last night had changed everything.
Everything.
Now, his focus was distracted, challenging his control and patience on every level. His entire system warned him to stay away, to focus on his first life’s mission, but the images of Emma’s eyes staring into his didn’t let him.
To any other person, she looked so innocent, like a good girl who couldn't kill a fly – the sweet, strange girl, working herself up to do all that was expected of her to gain everybody’s approval – and failing grandly. He saw right through her carefully curated mask, and only he would see everything behind it. To him, she was the personification of twistedness, her true self lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to finally break free.
And I am going to unleash it.
After what happened last night, he couldn’t help but linger in thoughts about the daring she had hidden behind her soft surface. The depth of fierceness that flickered through her eyes the moment his hand closed around her throat left him longing for more.
I need to know. I must see what lays beneath.
Never had he thought of meeting a woman with the same – for normal people peculiar – tastes he had, who at the same time wasn’t blinded by his money or name. Those women always had a pick-me attitude; they did certain things for the sole reason of wanting him to pick them. It was boring and annoying.
For all he could say, Emma had no idea who he was. And that was the most beautiful thing of it all. To her, he was a stranger she met yesterday, not the big-name others admired. Not that he didn’t like being admired; it meant everything to him, but there was a difference between being admired due to manipulation and honest admiration because someone had seen his soul. No one he ever met had. Maybe his mother, but his mother was dead. Murdered. Slaughtered. Until he met Emma. Beautiful Emma. And she had seen him. Really seen him and his soul. From the very first moment, she knew. And that is why he was a hundred percent sure of what she was. Something that made her different from all the others he had met so far.
Of course, there had been other women who enjoyed being taken, choked, and loved to play with fire, absolutely. But they threw themselves at him in the hopes of finally being recognized, being seen, becoming famous too, and decorating themselves with his praise. They were, in other words, prey offering itself for slaughter. But he loved the hunt. And the win, when the reaper clenched his teeth into the innocent skin of his designated victim.
Also, there was the matter of Delilah. Delilah was as cold-blooded as he was, and maybe, in an alternative universe, they could have enjoyed each other. But in this lifetime, she was nothing more than a tool. A tool for his revenge.
“Deis, what do you think?” ripped Julie Regan’s voice him out of his thoughts.
The meeting. Focus.
“Do what you must, the goal is more than clear, I don’t mind the how.”
“I actually think it’s great,” said Sam raising an eyebrow at him. He must’ve seen he was lost in thoughts. Nonetheless, Sam continued, “No one has done something alike before, and it might just give the people exactly what they want: mystery, the feeling of invincibility, and being something special.”
If Sam said so, it must be good. He was, after all, his most trusted advisor and a brilliant strategist.
“About the date – we thought a six months prep–”
“Make it faster. Tickets will sell out within minutes, and I don’t want them to wait as much. The instant reward system must be triggered for this one, so have them have a special prep session. You can take a cut from old events. Jaz, I know you have a few done, take the most exhilarating one.”
“Faster, as in–” asked Julie.
“A month. Make it November, when the weather is usually dull and people are not in a too Christmas-y mood. It’s got to be the adventure. They aren’t allowed to know and find out anything. They shall go in blind, that’s the magic of it.”
“Julie,” said Sam, “we know it’s quite short notice, but there won’t be much campaigning, this is a prior customer-only one, and they usually buy everything without a glimpse, only need to produce what they want. The rest, later.”
“Got it,” said Julie. “About the rest. The transition will be a sensible thing, and we need proper planning, have everything ready for day zero. Shall we continue with that after a small break? I’d like to let Lisa know about the roadmap, so she can prep landing pages and draft the mails in the meantime.”
As they separated for a thirty-minute break from the tedious, dull surroundings the conference room at Bloom PR delivered, he couldn’t wait to fixate his mind back to last night’s events. It was time for the next step.
“Julie, wait a moment, please.”
She stopped, while all the others left.