Page 8 of Angels of the Night
CHAPTER 7
“Dear Mister Greenwood, the time has come for me to show my gratitude for everything you have done to get me out of prison. Please, do me the honor of taking a look at the first results of my humble research.” Phillip Winters ceremoniously bowed before Greenwood, showing him down the narrow corridor. “This way, please.”
“The honor is mine, Professor, I finally have the privilege of seeing the genius at work. Like I've said before, I'm a great admirer of your late father's work, and I always dreamed about collaborating with him.” Greenwood moved gracelessly, rubbing his hands with great satisfaction.
“This way, please! Allow me to present you the first lot of subjects I'm going to test my latest discovery on. Boys, say hello to my generous protector, Mister Blair Greenwood.” Winters gave a cold stare to a group of teenagers, aged fifteen to seventeen, huddled into a corner of the room.
“This slimy bastard can go to hell, and so can you.” A sandy-haired boy hatefully spat the words, shooting daggers in the two men's direction. “If you fuckers think either of you will get anywhere near me, think again. I'll rip your fucking balls off and make you eat them.”
“I was wondering who would be the first to test the compound on, but you just made my decision easier, mouthy little brat.” Phillip Winters pushed the speed dial button of his phone, a cruel, twisted smile on his lips. “Come here and take the subject into the lab,” he barked, then turned to the teen. “Let's see how brave you are now.”
“Fuck you all, crazy bastards! Bye-bye, sick fucktards!” The boy flashed a grin in the guards' direction, running outside like a hurricane, without looking back.
“Leave him alone. I intentionally chose that little rebellious brat.” Phillip turned to Greenwood, who stared at the door, not knowing what to think anymore. “The boy was already exposed to a great dose of my secret compound. If Social Services find him and take him to a shelter, he will contaminate all the boys from there in no time.”
“Contaminated? Can you please offer me a more detailed explanation? I'm a mere mortal, not a genius with super-powers, like you and the late Professor Conroy Winters.” Greenwood feigned a humble smile, waiting for Phillip to start talking.
“You see, the method of inducing pregnancy in teenage boys my father developed was complicated and time-consuming. He was the first who realized that and searched for a way to improve things. After years of research, my father finally found a solution, but he needed a very rare ingredient, available only in a London government lab. Unfortunately, things got out of control pretty badly, and we couldn't get our hands on it...until now.”
“I'm familiar with your father's studies on male pregnancy, and I know how profitable the results were for both him and Alexander Kane. What is the improvement brought by this...compound and how does it work?”
Greenwood's interest was genuine, encouraging Phillip to explain him how the concept worked and tell the whole story of the incident from almost seven years earlier. The compound, he said, was a gaseous, very unstable and highly contagious substance, that, once inhaled, modified the teen boys' internal organs, leading to the apparition of the pregnancy support system, without any other kind of treatment.
Thanks to that revolutionary method, the kids were ready to be impregnated as soon as two days after the exposure. The interest in the “final products,” as Phillip called the babies resulted from the experiments, was huge. The clients varying from politicians and billionaires to the descendants of old aristocratic families. The men would pay for indulging in perverted, forbidden pleasures with the boys and getting them pregnant and they would also buy the child, once it was born.
Letting out a heavy, frustrated sigh, Phillip started to curse the nosiness of the CIA and MI5 agents, who joined forces and started to investigate the death of a technician from the government lab in London where the most important ingredient of the compound was kept. Fortunately, Phillip was able to sneak his way into the group of investigators, making two of them fall into the traps he carefully set, and having one of them killed.
The surviving CIA agent blamed everything on the British one, who was also his lover, and, after the mission ended, was never heard of. Rumors were the man lost his mind, some people even claimed the sorry loser killed himself, so he didn't represent an obstacle the second time Phillip's men broke into that secret lab. The MI5 agent, on the other hand...
But Greenwood didn't pay attention to the scientist's story, mentally gasping, surprised at the simplicity of the idea crossing his mind. A child was the perfect bait for the pathetic form of life he was married to, the whiner always wanted a baby of his own, to raise and pamper. If he managed to impregnate one of those teens, he would win his rightful place back without moving a finger.
More, Greenwood cruelly smiled at the thought, he wouldn't have to hold back for long. Next time he overstepped, hubby dearest would forgive him, for the sake of the baby. Once the child was born, everything would change, that pathetic husband of his would willingly give up control over the huge Trevellyan estate. After that, the worthless creature could finally go and meet mommy and daddy. He wouldn’t need him anymore.
Of course, there was the other problem to take care of, Greenwood cursed mentally. Lately, the child trafficking ring was under a constant attack from that nightmarish group who called themselves the crew, lead by Ardan-fucking-MacNamara, the bane of his existence. Greenwood suspected that they were tipped off by Fabian Bloom but had no evidence to support his theory.
His associate no longer manifested any interest whatsoever in the organization, didn't protest to how he wanted to run it, not even when his long-time collaborators were lowered in rank. That lack of interest coming from someone like Fabian, who detested not to have full control over everything, was suspicious, so Greenwood decided to test him. If the sly old fox tried something, he would be dead meat, the man thought, a dark grin spreading on his face.
****
“Good morning, Daddy. What a glorious way to start a new day!” Rowan Winters walked into the dining room of Fabian's villa wearing nothing but a skimpy G-string that barely covered his private parts. “What are you staring at?” He turned to Lance, who, as usual, rolled his eyes and shook his head at the teen's appearance.
“You have to admit he made some progress, though.” Fabian turned his attention to the chauffeur, completely ignoring Rowan. “Next time he will wear pants, too.”
“I was thinking about something less complicated, like socks. I mean, c'mon, Daddy, why are you like that? You said there’s nothing wrong with the way I look. Why hide then? Or is it because I make him salivate?” The boy sat in Fabian's lap, gesturing in Lance's direction.
“You look good, but it's not civil to go around like that. What if someone sees you? Now take a seat, eat and then go and put a nice shirt and a pair of pants on, okay?”
“Daddy loves me! I knew you loved me!” Rowan spoke in a high-pitched voice, wiggling his fist in a triumphant gesture, then filled his plate and dug into the food. “Whoever prepared this is one of the greatest cooks in the world.” The boy's words were accompanied by a soft moan of appreciation, that warmed Lance's heart.
“It was nothing complicated, just some scrambled eggs and roasted sausages, but I'm happy you enjoyed it. What about gazpacho and Greek-style rice with chicken for lunch?” With a small smile on his lips, the chauffeur turned to Fabian, the green eyes shining with affection.
“It sounds good to me, especially if Daddy likes it, too. With your permission, I'm off to study.” Rowan left his seat, stepping outside the kitchen. “Do you know by any chance where could I get some more genetics books from?”
“Have you tried the online library of the Van der Meerwe Institute? They have quite an impressive collection of works on the subject.” Lance's answer, spoken in a soft voice, came as a big surprise for Fabian and Rowan.
“I can be so stupid at times! Thank you for suggestion. You are the absolute best!” The kid blew a kiss in the chauffeur's direction, heading to his room.
The sound of footsteps coming from the hallway made Lance frown, and he was about to go and check who was it, when Greenwood stepped inside the room. “Good morning, gentlemen. Looks like I arrived right in time for breakfast. I have some wonderful news to share. Before that, I bumped into the most fuckable twink on my way here, can I have a go at that sweet little ass?”