when you grew up as a lonely uncool girl it will never stop haunting you by the way. you will meet a cool person at a bar or the train station or at a friend's party and you can wear your most stylish outfit and striking eye makeup and you will swear that they can see through all of the facade and see the lonely terribly insecure teenage girl you used to be who desperately wanted to connect and you will swear that they know that there is like an insurmountable gap between you. this will happen forever
CEO Agatha Harkness x Reader Rich Boss x Submissive Assistant AU
Other parts & Tip jar
Word count: 16k+ More than a double chapter. Maybe get a cherry vanilla latte & settle in?
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, power dynamics, toxic relationship, d/s dynamics, absurd mean sugar mommy behavior, sketchy business, mommy kink, training, kneeling, plot, crying, serving, group humiliation of R & other characters, buttplug, corruption, degradation, blood (not R's and not sexual) Agatha Rio & Wanda are all corrupt and mean i'm warning you now, Rio is super forward, Agatha tries to get you to do private things in public ( kink, not sex ) , lots of alcohol, murder accusations thrown around, R undecided on whether to hatefuck or not, very gentle mindbreaking, big time angst, omg are they gonna break up?
Her voice is awfully calm for someone you're trying to leave. Like she's daring you to go.
"Fuck you."
"You already said that one. What are you gonna do, swim back to your apartment?"
"I could go with Rio." You stab back. "She seemed pretty keen, is she a good fuck?"
Agatha Harkness will regret making you upset and she will regret making you angry. You can see her blood boil in real time.
A/N Go read chapter 13 after this if you want a nice hot tub break 😭
Agatha has been gone a while, perhaps she's looking for what to wear to the party.
Although, if you've been circling the island for some time, perhaps she has something picked out already. Did she bring it on the boat knowing this would happen?
Does she keep things on here just in case?
The thought of seeing her in a new outfit is exciting. Something she might have never worn to the office.
Learning about her is everything, like unwrapping small presents. Small pieces of information as she opens up to you. As she lets you in.
The thought of the party is a little less exciting. Parties are fine. It's never usually a big deal, but it is a little hurtful to have to go as her assistant after you thought this was a vacation. Still, that is what you are, nothing romantic. Not really. Not anything official.
But you are hers at least.
And you hope she's yours too.
Maybe you won't be there for very long. Maybe it's already underway if you'd yet to dock at the island.
Taking both plates to the kitchen you attempt to wash up. A tall man stops you. Not Adrian. God you hope she didn't really fire him for the cherries nonsense. Spoiled Agatha Harkness always gets what she wants.
"You can hand those to me." He offers, reaching to collect them politely.
"Oh, I was just going to wash up. Its okay, I can do it." You gesture to the large marble sink in the middle of the kitchen island. Still unusually clean.
"We don't actually use this kitchen." He steps in front of you, physically removing the plates from your hands before you can protest. "The staff work downstairs. This is just for if Ms Harkness decides to cook."
You let him take them, not wanting to intrude in their space. Get in their way. That makes more sense. You had wondered where all the appliances are.
"And does she ever?" You ask.
"No." He smiles, stacking the two of them as he adjusts the positioning to make it easier to carry. You wonder if Agatha can cook if people have looked after her all her life.
Maybe you'll get to make her a home cooked meal soon. Nothing chef quality, but made with love.
Or something similar.
Heading back to the bedroom, the island becomes clearer out the large windows. A few smaller yachts already anchored around the dock. Members of staff on land all wearing matching white uniforms.
The island is green, with manicured trees running along it's path. A glass building set back away from the water. The whole place surrounded by several lawns.
It's hard to believe someone can own an entire area like this. Actually physically own it. You don't own a house, and someone out there is owning some kind of mini continent. It isn't huge, but it is private.
Who's island is this? Will they be friendly and welcoming? How different is Agatha's island compared to this one? Hopefully you'll get to see it soon.
It's probably larger, you think.
Small orange lanterns light the path from the dock to the building in the middle, and as it gets darker, the windows become less like windows, and more like mirrors. Reflecting yourself back at you. Still you, even after all of this life taking over yours. Even after Agatha's consumption of you.
It's hard to push away the feeling like you're getting yourself caught up in more than you can handle every day with her. Using her like security. Like a shield.
You won't be able to do that tonight.
At least this event, however, is nothing more than a perfectly curated gala. People polished and perfect. Two glasses of champagne and nothing more. People are overly polite to one another. You've found these things are more networking than anything. Staying professional as not to let other people learn too much about you. Keep your businesses friendly to avoid competition. Outbit each other to show you're worthy of everyone's eyes on you.
But this time they're her friends.
Though she seemed a little uncomfortable with the word. Will she act different around them? Will she introduce you anyway? Will it be like meeting your girlfriend's friends?
The word feels foreign, even in your head. The Agatha Harkness is not your girlfriend.
But it sure feels like that when you wake up next to her.
The master bedroom is dimly lit when you finally make your way in, dragging your eyes away from the awe of an island and back to the warmth of the bedroom you share. The place you tangle up in eachother under the cover of night. The place you kiss her and she lets you. The place you brought her coffee and held her hand this morning.
The place she's never brought another woman.
You smile just thinking about it.
All those times wondering if she was flirting with you, if she could ever like you that way. And here you are.
The crisp white sheets of the bed made fresh when you were having dinner. The lamps next to the bed turned on, curtains drawn like a fancy turn-down service.
Agatha is nowhere to be seen.
On the bed, your usual arrangements. Your outfit for tonight. The contrast of black on white. Agatha seems to love you in black, it seems. Perhaps it's elegance. Power.
There's a soft low-cut dress waiting near the perfectly plump pillows. A mint left on each one. It almost makes you shake your head in disbelief. She truly lives like a queen.
Next to the dress, some expensive looking leather heels. Both of which you'd packed in your luggage and never worn since she bought them for you. Agatha must have opened it up again. Your eyes flick from the bed to the suitcase on the couch. Still half opened with some clothes littered near it. She'd clearly ransacked it. Luckily with the soft materials nothing seems to have gotten creased at all.
It's hard not to wonder whether she operates in such a rush so you don't catch her in the act of laying clothes out for you. Like some kind of sacred ritual. Assembling you like an art piece. Like a business deal. Perfectly curating your image. Like her doll to dress up.
It's almost endearing.
You run your hands across the dress, comparing it with the sweatpants you're currently wearing. The overly expensive sweatpants you were hoping would come in handy for a night in watching Agatha's french movies.
You were having such a lovely day. Opening up. Hearing about her life. Trickles of it, sounding hard, complicated. Almost upsetting. It seems a shame to be around other people already.
At least you'll have her all to yourself on the couch later, like a secret waiting to be unwrapped.
You weren't expecting just how much of a secret you'd be hiding as you move the dress out of the way to see if she's laid out a bra.
She has, a strapless black lace with a matching thong. Just what she likes to see you in. Cozy couch thoughts turn to thoughts of straddling her later, her hands on you at the private afterparty in her bedroom.
When you pick up the set to get ready, a small box falls out. More jewels?
You open the box delicately, breath catching in your throat when the lid pops off, revealing a small, delicate plug. You swallow, looking around for her.
Firm and golden. It's heavier than you expected, but only by a little. A small white gem on the end of it. Surely she can't be serious.
This?
Now?
You'd never talked about it, and now she expects you to wear this in front of her friends?
To remind you that you're hers.
A secret inside a secret. You almost don't hear her come out from the bathroom, her heels muffled by the sound of the carpet.
Your mouth almost waters at the site of her, like her appearance alone could make you crumble at her feet. She's tall in her heels. A crisp all black plush suit. Nothing like what you'd seen her wear at work. it's a little too fancy, if anything. But undeniably sexy. A contrasting white shirt underneath and a gold watch she adjusts as she processes your reaction to the gift.
Ah, you're matching.
"Do you like it?" She asks, voice low and soft and genuine. You're unsure as to whether she's talking about her outfit or the metal in your hands.
"I— uh"
You aren't sure. The thought is delicious, a secret for the two of you. Her claim on you in a new and tempting way. The desire within her to bring something for you on this trip. She steps a little closer to you from around the bed.
"Does it make you uncomfortable?"
Her words feel sincere. She's not pressuring you. It's a suggestion. An offering. A way for you to remember you're hers while she pretends you aren't.
"No. Just nervous. I haven't—"
"I know, honey." She's closer now, her hand moving a few strands of hair from your face. "I want you to remember who you belong to."
Agatha purses her red colored lips together and the cherry smell is back on her neck as she's almost too close to you. intoxicating. Like the first time she ever stood close to you. Your body covered in goosebumps instantly.
She stands behind you, towering over you a little in the heels, your bare feet on the carpet in comparison. Her hands run over the sides of your arms delicately, leaving your hairs standing on their ends when she lets go.
"I want to claim all of you, sweet girl." Your stomach knots at her words. "Do you want to try, for me?"
You hesitate for a second, she watches your expression to see how you want to proceed. Her presence is comforting. Especially after today. You desperately want to be good for her. For her to know and trust entirely that you belong to her. It's clearly important.
"Yes." You admit, looking at her for clarification.
"Atta girl. Just make sure you're relaxed, alright. Let me know if you need me to help you out a little." She strokes your hair softly. Her words are soft like butter. Comforting and smooth.
She gives you a cheeky wink before buttoning her suit jacket and heading out. Her heels louder on the wood as she steps onto the deck with her head held high, hair thrown over her shoulders with the back of her hand. You bet the staff are scrambling to accommodate her.
You breathe heavy, warmth between your legs.
She is everything.
You close the bedroom door and prepare to get ready for the evening. The toy in your hands as they shake gently.
You wish she would help you. Not even because you feel like you need it, always ready for her, but because you can't stand not being near her.
It'll be agonizing to just be her assistant tonight, but at least you get to serve her.
--
The boat stops moving once you're ready, timed almost perfectly as you fix your hair and cover up the marks on your neck. Playing the part of the perfect assistant. The foundation is enough to cover them up, and you hope it doesn't rub off over the course of the evening.
For someone who wants this to be a secret, she sure is doing a good job of keeping you so obviously hers.
You have no idea how these so-called friends are, but you'd hate to be the one for Agatha's downfall.
The plug inside reminding you of it's presence when you move or sit. A slight feeling of fullness. Of claim. Of ownership. It's only small you assure yourself.
Nobody will notice.
Agatha is stood on the deck, a bottle of whiskey in her hand and a glass of it in the other. You make your way over to her as they anchor the boat to the floating dock, leaning over the edge for a better look.
Agatha’s eyes drift over your form as she sips her drink, her eyes taking in your outfit. Your secret.
"Are you wearing it?" She asks quietly, like she doesn't want the people on the island to hear even though they're much too far away.
"Yes." You admit shyly, and her nostrils flare as she takes a strong sip of the liquor.
"Good girl."
She hands you the bottle.
"Oh no thank you I—"
"It's not for you to drink, it's to carry for me. I can't be seen carrying my own things, that's what you're for.” Straight into it, I guess. “And I'm not trusting Wanda's cheap drink cabinet."
You have no idea how anyone who owns an island could have a cheap drink cabinet, but you take the bottle anyway as she steps behind you. Holding it firmly in your hands.
Over the edge of the boat as you dock up to the island, the other yachts parked nearby. All at least half the size of the one you're currently on.
And this is her modest one?
She's such a showoff. It almost makes you giggle. Everyone on the land looks up to the boat as it gets tied down. All wearing a matching white uniform. They must be the staff.
Two people in the distance wearing darker outfits approach slowly.
Is this all that’s left of the party?
Warm hands grab your ass from behind as Agatha watches you take in the island, her hands wandering up the dress. Skin soft. Kneading your flesh, humming softly like you’re satisfying her just from existing.
You gasp in response, how are you supposed to act normal at this party? She removes her hands quickly, like if she starts teasing you properly she won’t be able to stop herself. You swallow hard as she stands up straighter, wiping her suit down even though it’s already perfect.
"You'll be okay." She assures you as she leaves, preparing to step back onto land.
And you feel for a second like you will.
You follow behind her, close but not close enough that people will assume you're together. Together like that.
You’re on the gangway before you can process what’s happening, the plug snug in you. Your body aches for her. Hopefully she won’t stay here too long.
Agatha walks three feet ahead,not looking back once, and a man asks you for your phone before you can even protest as soon as your feet are on land.
You hand it over when Agatha hands over hers.
Hopefully this isn’t some kind of elaborate scam. Still, even if you never got it back it’s not like Agatha wouldn’t easily be able to buy you a new one.
Your brain fuzzes as you scold yourself for the thought. You can’t become reliant on her. You can’t like this too much. You can’t like her money. Can you?
The women are closer now, walking over with arms extended wide. Agatha’s least favorite part. The touching of it all.
You feel almost weirdly excited to meet these women. People Agatha has voluntarily hung out with multiple times. Other powerful women. It’s a step up from sleazy men at galas.
"There she is!" The lady on the right exclaims, her voice an accent you can't quite place. "Darling I thought you wouldn't come."
Agatha is reluctantly embraced as always by her peers, though she seems to settle into this hug easier. Like she's been practicing. Like she wants it to seem effortless.
"Wanda darling, it's been too long indeed." Agatha kisses both of her cheeks.
What? This seems awfully out of character for the woman you've been spending so much time with. Her voice a happy sing-song.
Wanda doesn't even acknowledge your existence like you'd expected her to. Preparing in your head to state your name and role, but she never asks.
Behind her is another lady, one you recognize from your LinkedIn stalking opportunities. Rio Vidal. The three of them as mysterious and exclusive as each other. She’s posted maybe three times, but Forbes loves to try and get interviews.
Both women wearing crisp black suits, similar to Agatha’s. You wonder if they arranged some kind of dress code or coordination. Maybe it’s the nauseating emotions taking over again but something about Agatha’s looks better, more plush.
"Is that your yacht?" Rio asks as she approaches, arms outstretched to meet Agatha in the same way, though less enthused.
"Yes." Agatha answers quickly, smoothing out her outfit. You’re not asked your name by Rio either, and you’re beginning to wonder if you might be invisible.
"It's smaller." Rio's trying to hold back a laugh, it makes you defensive instantly as you follow them slowly along the pier and towards the real land.
"It's one-eighty. Perfectly reasonable."
"What happened to the helipads?" Wanda asks, turning back slightly with a concerned look on her face like this is a huge deal.
"It has a helipad." Agatha protests, calmly.
They walk agonizingly slowly. Maybe it's the heels.
"Well I miss the old one." Rio proclaims as the group continue to walk forward, with you trailing just a little behind. "We partied on it in Monaco, remember? That thing was massive."
"Mhmm very accommodating layout." Wanda adds, a layer to a joke you don't think you understand.
"All those private rooms. The soundproofing. The excellent disposal system..." Rio giggles a little, but it feels performative almost.
Oh god they're incriminating themselves already.
"That's standard document procedure." Agatha replies like she's got it rehearsed. Oh thank god, just documents.
"And when the contractors that arrived by boat at two in the morning..." Wanda continues.
"They were business consultants." Agatha cuts her off but she’s smiling like this is one big funny memory.
"Right yes." Rio laughs. "And the blonde, was she a consultant too?"
Heat bubbles in you instantly.
The familiar pang of jealousy.
"Drop it." Like she suddenly remembers you’re there.
"What?" Rio presses harder, you've hardly been here for five minutes and she's trying to start a fight. Is this how they usually interact? "She was in your room for three hours, with the red head as well wasn’t it? You must have gotten a lot of consulting done."
Agatha laughs, but she looks back just once to see if you’re still listening. You consider pretending you aren’t just to avoid the conversation later.
“Play nice.” Wanda warns
“But why the downgrade, financial troubles?” She asks, pressing further. No wonder Agatha didn't want to come here. Rio wants gossip before you’re off the dock.
"I just wanted to downsize. Something more personal. You know they say size doesn't matter, Rio?"
"Oh is that what they say?" They stop at the end of the pier, heels on the island path towards a man holding a tray of champagne. Your heart speeds up tremendously as soon as Rio locks eyes with you. "Doesn't sound like she's treating you very well, honey." She winks at you and you instantly look to Agatha in a panic.
Did she tell them you were...whatever this is?
She wouldn't have. They're guessing. Assuming based on reputation.
Or she's just trying to start a fight. You blush at her crudeness. The toy inside you reminding you of your position tonight. As hers. No matter what they joke about.
Wanda seems happy to change the subject, gesturing past the two of them and towards you. "I see you've brought—"
This is it, she's going to ask you your name, you prepare to answer.
"—scotch. Of course you have." She moves the bottle up a little bit inside your hand without so much as looking up at you. Like you're a prop.
"Well what can I say?" Agatha gestures around. "Saving it for a special occasion."
And she's not going to say anything? To introduce you? Okay. Not introducing you as an equal is one thing, not introducing you as an assistant is another.
“Is my champagne not suitable for you?” Wanda asks as the waiter offers some to the group.
“You know I’m particular.”
You reach for the champagne when Wanda does, only for her to slap it out of your hand, looking to Agatha like she was supposed to keep her pet in check.
"Not for the staff. There's an employee section over there with more appropriate refreshments." Wanda laughs, touching Agatha on the arm playfully and waving for you to go over to the staff area.
The rich playground equivalent of the children's table. Humiliation pulses in your chest a little as they turn to leave. Agatha's eyes graze over your own for a second as she turns.
You can't read them.
She's playing the part, you remind yourself. Nobody can know. You know her. You trust her.
It's okay.
--
The area you were waved over to is nearby, and you can make out a small drinks set up on a table under a wooden structure right next to the house. It very much feels like someone’s very large very manicured garden.
You suppose that’s all a private island has to be, the way Agatha described hers sounded vast and complicated, like a mini private city.
People in white rush past you as you approach the staff area, mostly chefs preparing food or people cleaning up. It’s hard to see where most of them are heading, but it oddly seems to be in the opposite direction to where Agatha and her friends just headed off to.
A few wooden seats lined up like a children’s party, and you shake your head as you take in the drinks and snacks left for you. Juices. Plastic cups. Chips.
In all your time working for Agatha, it had never occurred to you that you were getting special treatment. Not until the special treatment became really special, and really obvious.
Sure, as your boss the pay could have been a little better. She could have been kinder, more talkative, let you on the jet earlier. But she always made sure you could have the same food as everyone else at the work meetings. The same coffee from the coffee shop she goes to.
Maybe Wanda doesn’t operate like that. Maybe you were getting special treatment from the very beginning. The whiskey swirls in the bottle you still have. Almost tempting if it wasn’t kind of gross.
Getting a glass of juice and adding some lemonade, you sit at one of the chairs. Will you be here all night?
Deep in your heart you know you can’t. You know yourself too well. Half an hour of this and you’ll start snooping around or trying to get back on the boat.
Suddenly, a dishevelled young woman bursts out of a door nearby, heading towards the juice table, cigarette between her lips.
“Jesus Christ.” She mutters as she pours herself a drink, taking a sip before going back to her smoke.
“Something to take the edge off?” You offer.
Please be nice.
Luckily she laughs at your joke, before taking a seat next to you, leaving a chair between you both so it’s not too personal.
“You’re Harkness’ new one?” You nod at her words, surprised they know of you when Agatha hadn’t shared anything about Wanda or Rio.
“How do you stand it?” She asks, head resting back as she exhales.
You shrug. The plug making itself present as your body responds to even the thoughts of her.
How do you stand it?!
“She’s good at what she does.” Is all you can say, hoping she doesn’t pry any further. She’s dressed differently from the staff buzzing around like flies. A black t-shirt and some slacks. Nothing fancy, but clearly different.
“Oh I see.” She winks at you. Oh no. How did she deduce that from what you just said?
“Not sure what you mean.” You take a sip of your drink. The words come out a little sharper than you would have liked.
Who is this woman?
“Hey, at least she’s consistent. Rio’s complicated.”
“You’re her assistant?”
“At your service. You can call me Sally.”
“Hi Sally.” You wave slightly like she isn’t sat two feet away from you.
“This morning she was in tears over her son. Then at four this afternoon she’s screaming at the boat captain saying we’re going to be late because we were five minutes delayed.” She takes a drag of her cigarette. “When we got on board she made me do shots with her.”
You can’t help but burst out laughing. And you thought Agatha was intense. Luckily Sally laughs too, knowing you’re both in the same absurd boat.
“Shots?” You ask, just to keep her talking. Not really sure what you’d say about Agatha.
My boss bought me an eight hundred dollar swimsuit and then I fed her cherries and she fucked my face.
Sally doesn’t keep you in your thoughts for long, telling you that Rio pregamed on the yacht before coming here. It’s no wonder she was so forward with you.
Unless she’s just always like that.
“If you have to pregame for a casual party, why go?” You ask, Sally shrugs, putting her cigarette out under her feet and standing up like her body hurts.
“They have to, I think. Some kind of weird bond. I’m not sure.” She picks the crushed cigarette up and drops it in the trash can by the snack table. You bet Wanda is specific about smoking on the island.
“She’s been asking about you, by the way.” Sally continues as she refills her juice cup.
“Me?”
“Yeah.” She imitates Rio’s voice with scary accuracy like she does it all the time. “What’s Agatha’s new girl like? Is she pretty? Is she coming this time?" She laughs. "She can't even remember my name is Sally half the time.”
You shake your head in disbelief, getting up to join her in refilling your own cup. She seems intrigued that you’re half and halfing the juice and lemonade.
“Why would she want to know that about me?” You know you’re gossiping now, but that’s what happens when you’re put in the naughty corner.
“I don’t know.” She looks around a little to make sure Rio isn’t right behind her. “Between you and me, I think she has some history with your boss.”
The jealousy inside you becomes a little worried at the thought. Another assistant you can handle, but someone just as successful as Agatha? Someone sat god knows where with her right now?
It makes you a little uneasy.
Sally keeps talking like she can’t stop now, clearly a lover of sharing stories. Or she’s not been able to talk to someone normal in a while.
“Sometimes when she drinks at these things, she gets this weird intense look in her eyes when people bring her up. Agatha, I mean.”
It feels weird to see another assistant call her that name.
“And—“ Sally continues again, you keep nodding your head in hopes she’ll keep talking. “—these three always want to have the upper hand. It’s like a contest. Maybe you’ll be the prize tonight.”
She flashes her eyes wildly, her intensity feeling like a good match for Rio’s assistant. You wonder how long she’s been doing it for.
You shake your head, “I’m not a prize.”
“Sure, I know that. But don’t be surprised if she tries to talk to you tonight. And if she offers you a job, please don’t take it?”
You laugh at the absurdity but she seems genuinely concerned. “All things considered I do like it here. She pays well and it’s never boring you know?”
“I don’t want your job, Sally. I like my own.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” She’s reaching in her back pocket for another cigarette, offering you one. You reject. Rio must have her stressed the hell out “Dressed like that? I bet Agatha loves seeing you like that compared to the rest of the staff.”
“She’s territorial.” You offer her. Nothing substantial, but enough to be polite.
She raises her eyebrows. “She’s using you to show off. She does it with all her shit. She’s the richest one, it pisses them off.”
You smile. That’s so her. It’s bizarre this is endearing to you now.
“I wasn’t calling you shit, by the way-“ Sally tries to claw back her comment but is interrupted by another woman. Around the same age as her in a relaxed deep red dress. Nothing fancy, but polished and it looks like it might even have pockets. She exits the house with an aura of calmness, looking around like she wants someone specific.
Her eyes lock on you as soon as she notices you. “Ms Harkness will need a top up shortly.” She states before heading back into the house. House staff? Perhaps she’s Wandas assistant. Taking control for the night.
You forgot about the whiskey for a moment. It’s odd she didn’t just bring it with her. Unless she wants to see you again. Unless you serving her is part of her image.
Whatever it is, the thought feels comforting and exciting. You didn’t think you’d see her until she was finished here. The plug shifts in you as you stand, trying not to acknowledge it in front of Sally, but it feels like you’ve managed well. You give her a polite bottle-raise before heading for your duties.
The sound of Agatha’s loud fake laugh makes you smile as you approach the three of them. Everything about her is inviting now. It’s not as good as the real, genuine laugh she does around you, but it’s funny and heart-warning all the same.
Agatha is stood perfectly crisp, the glass loose between her fingers. Her smile wide at whatever Wanda is saying. Radiant. In her element.
One of the people in white hover over, offering her a strange looking rectangle canapé. She takes it, eating it elegantly.
It’s interesting how someone can reveal themselves to you in such a short time, even when you thought they hadn’t at all. She’s the picture of poise and perfection. The woman who ate chow mein in an all white suit and kept the whole thing perfect.
This Agatha is not the same as the woman who makes a disaster mess with her sandwich and lets you eat on the couch.
Piece by piece you unravel her. She’s polished, perfect. But she’s goofy, silly. Messy. Imperfect despite the classes, despite her status.
At least when it’s just the two of you.
You’d expected there to be more guests over here. It’s just the three of them. Where is everyone else at the party?
You walk slowly to try and absorb as much of their conversation as possible. Wanda seems to be talking about a children’s gala being held next month. You know the one. You sent the RSVP.
“I’m giving a talk there.” Agatha tells the group. You remember when she told you she’d like to sign up. It was rare. You put her name down instantly. They were thrilled about it.
Rio snorts as she sips her champagne. “You and your children’s charities. Do you ever go to other events?”
"Jealous are we?"
"You're not as heartless as you pretend you are, Agatha." Wanda sips her drink, a small smile on her face. You know it's true.
"Not jealous. Just basking in your great nobleness. Meanwhile your company's pension fund—" Rio starts up again, clearly looking for a fight tonight.
"Is managed accordingly. If adults make choices, they can live with the consequences." Agatha cuts her off immediately, sharply and professionally, even if her words are callous.
You almost catch Rio in an eye-roll, but Wanda seems genuinely intrigued. "Interesting moral line you've drawn. I understand though, I do believe in giving back."
Rio laughs again, and you wonder for a second whether she's out for everyone's blood or if she hates when Wanda get's in the way. "You like to be photographed giving back."
"Rich coming from someone who started a charity just for the tax break." Agatha finishes the last sip of her drink, and you know she's waiting for you, but it feels terrifying to walk into this pit of lions.
You hover, waiting for it to calm down a little. Stood just out of view. Your hands trembling with the bottle. It's interesting watching them like this. Three incredibly powerful women who could do anything they want. No limits. No rules. And here they are, stood in a circle with empty glasses, bickering like mothers on a playground.
"Didn't you buy a PR company to wipe your slate clean Agatha?"
Wanda backs off, finishing what's left of her drink elegantly. Letting the two of them fight it off.
"And what about it? I was just at an art auction for children, Rio. Bought the biggest painting."
"Of course you did."
"An artist I would know?" Wanda asks, perhaps she collects art too. Agatha fails to mention she bought the art because you liked it. She bought it for you. She fails to mention she hung it right above a bed so you could look at it when she claimed you for the first time.
You feel flustered, and she starts to look around a little, you emerge from the shadows. Drink in hand, ready to serve her and most of all, ready to help her if she flounders. Feeling like you’re about to go on stage for the first time.
She clicks her fingers trying to remember the name of the artist. Of course she doesn't remember, she didn't care about buying it.
You prepare to fill up her drink slowly, steady, the anticipation of praise in the air. "Feliz Arden" you tell the room.
They look at you blankly. Silence.
Long, drawn out, uncomfortable silence.
Agatha blinks.
Your hands start to shake as you pour. Suddenly it feels like you're on display. Too seen. Too uncomfortable.
You expected her to thank you, to acknowledge you.
"We didn't ask you." Agatha looks down at you coldly. Your hands shake more, your face flushed. You feel sick.
What?
"And you're pouring too slowly, you know better than this. Fill it up two fingers, go on." Her words are slow and calculated. You don't want to spill any. You don't want this to be extremely expensive. This isn't the same woman who held your hand in the helicopter.
"Nervous isn't she?" Asks Rio, with a glint of sadism in her voice. She's enjoying this. You can tell.
"She's fine." She waves you away, you scramble a little, trying to look at her expression as you attempt to leave without stumbling over, your pulse a little too quick.
Focus. Y
ou know she has to keep up appearances with these people, no matter what they are. What she says.
They don't watch you leave. Jumping right back into their conversation.
Skin flushed, your legs numb. You make your way back to the staff area, stopping momentarily behind an intriguing sculpture perched just a few feet away. Catching your breath.
Filling your head with logic, with reason instead of getting too involved with her words. Her attitude. The air is cooler, crisper. very faint music coming from somewhere. Grass under your heels.
Their words are soft in the distance, and without thinking you hold your breath to hear them better.
Rio is the first to speak when they think you’re out of earshot, it doesn’t surprise you.
“You’ve always had an excellent taste in staff, where do you find them?” She asks. You try to calm your body down. You could never have expected the subject would jump to you immediately, even though it’s secretly what you had hoped for.
“My management organizes them. I just get the final pick from the shortlist.” Professional and controlled.
Your body calms a little now you aren't on display. You should leave now. You really should. This act of listening in feels childish.
“Oh what you make them attach a headshot?”
To your surprise Agatha laughs. To hear her acknowledge you in public is fresh and exhilarating, even if she’s only laughing to admit she finds you attractive.
This isn't like the gala. This isn't like a meeting. The conversation is wildly inappropriate and she’s much more open with these people, joking. Laughing.
You wonder what makes them special. Perhaps the similar level of finances in this world is more important than you thought.
Wanda’s voice creeps back into the mix. You couldn’t even make out that she was still there. Composed and silent without so much as a shuffle. “How many has it been over the years? Ten? Twelve?”
“I don’t keep count. They serve their purpose.”
“Of course you don’t, they’re interchangeable.” Rio agrees. You try not to think too hard about it. Not to regret listening in. Her past is her past. She was honest about it.
It doesn't mean anything.
"And this one, a whole year Harkness." Wanda's voice is almost amused. "What purpose is she serving?"
Is she going to tell them? Surely not. But maybe she's comfortable enough for them to keep her secret, despite her denying they were friends with her she sure seems friendly. You strain, but with no need to, her voice is loud and clear.
"The same as the others. She's just well trained."
Oh.
Rio laughs like this is a boys locker room. It's an unmistakable cackle. "My Sarah gets my coffee order wrong constantly, but she's good fun. Always down for whatever last minute."
"If you treat them well—" Wanda starts "—they work harder for you, that's what i've always found."
"Debatable." Laughs Agatha, feeling like a stab in the chest. Your face feels contorted into some kind of unrecognizable emotion as you try and process her words. You know she’s lying though, dressed up pretty and perfect for her. Her yacht stocked with your favorite soda.
"What are your island staff like?"
"They're okay. They manage some of the house, managing the lawn crowd right now. They differ each day."
"They did seem a little unfocused."
Rio laughs again like this is her lifeblood. "Bet you ten thousand one of them will drop a glass before we open the really good stuff."
You creep away, unable to focus on whether she meant what she said. You know she didn't. Why does it hurt.
"Why stop at ten? Make it twenty." Agatha joins back in as you fade away. You can't hear anymore, creeping off back to the juice table in hopes nobody has seen you snooping around.
God you miss her smell. her warmth. The way she's learning to hold you. The way she makes sure she's taking care of yourself.
This isn't her, you tell yourself. This attitude, this version of her. It's an act, a front. A way to keep her competition at arms length.
She warned you.
—
It's colder now as you take a seat back at the staff area. Nobody around. The plug sends a shot of warmth through your body with the pressure. You close your eyes. She'll make it up to you later, you think. You're reminded that you're hers. No matter the words.
The same as the others. She's just well trained.
Does she really mean that? Your confidence drains a little as you process. The faint sound of expensive laughter and glasses clinking. The smell of the sea. A breeze that's a little too strong. You could really go for a cup of tea.
Sitting with her in the library back on the boat. Would you embarrass her if you retreated back to safety? Lied and said you didn't feel well?
It's tempting, almost a little too tempting. She'd tell you that's okay. She'd make an excuse and come check on you. You know she would, even if she pretended that's not what she was doing.
Unless she wouldn't
The same as the others.
She's just well trained.
What if this is the routine? What if it isn't just fucking her assistants and this is her usual pattern? Some kind of sick game of submission and tenderness. Pretending she cares. A thought you'd never even considered. What if this is how she gets off?
You should have just left it at sex and servitude. It was satisfying for the both of you. The dominance and submission. Bringing her coffee, doing whatever she wanted.
Why did you have to get so attached?
Thoughts start to become panic, and your dress feels too tight, your arms too warm even in the cool air. You take a deep breath, then another, then another, until footsteps approach from behind you, almost making you jump.
"Easy. You okay?" Sally approaches you gently like she's trying to lure over a baby deer, Wanda's assistant Alicia close by holding juice refills.
You nod, breath still deep, but feeling better already. A little more grounded.
"Were you eavesdropping?" You shake your head violently. She raises her eyebrow, catching you out instantly. Perhaps a pattern she's picked up.
"Yes." The word feels tiny in your mouth.
She laughs.
"Heard something you didn't want to?" You nod again. Alicia refills the juice, choosing to only drink the red one. Maybe cranberry. She seems more business oriented, like this whole evening is relying on her processes. "Thats what they tell you about eavesdropping, you know." She adds.
You can't help but smile. They're your safety right now, the comfort of another is nice, even if it isn't her. You almost feel like you're in a girls bathroom asking the others whether or not your boyfriend likes you.
"Did Agatha bring a girl here last time?"
They look at each other knowingly. Alicia finishes refilling the juices, pouring you a cup of one and handing it over. You grab it even though you don't really want it. The gesture is nice.
"She uh—" Sally scratches the back of her neck. "—Yeah she brought two."
"When was that?"
They look at each other again.
"About six months ago. They do these meetups every six months. Not like clockwork but near enough."
Six months. You were still working for her. You feel a little jealous, a little angry. Still, you have no right.
"Who were they?" You've already asked now. The cards are very clearly on the table and you might as well try and piece her life together while you have the chance.
"Not sure." They both sit, sipping their own drinks. Sally lights up another cigarette and you waft away the smoke. "Not her assistant, obviously."
"You didn't talk to them like you're doing now?"
"Oh, no. She left them on the boat. She pulled up on the yacht with them on the top of it like some kind of eccentric showoff."
You roll your eyes and for the first time in a while you actually mean it. It doesn't feel playful, it feels fucking irritating.
"I tended to her last time." Alicia adds.
"And she brought her assistants before that?" You ask, focusing only on her.
"Yeah. They sat here same as you. There was just a different one every time. Kind of nice to meet new people I guess. You're really nice."
You smile at her kind words.
“What were they wearing?”
“Easy tiger, I don’t remember. Whole year ago, you know.” You nod at her words. You’re acting unreasonable. Prying too much. Getting too close. If they said they were head to toe in the same outfit of you, what exactly is your grand plan when you confront Agatha?
You have to change the subject or it's going to drive you insane, looking to Alicia to join her into the conversation.
"So, what's it like working for Wanda?"
"Ms Maximoff is fine. She's always been mostly professional, sometimes a little infantilizing." She shrugs. "To be honest she was usually preoccupied with her husband and kids, I worked in the background, was mostly invisible until he passed." She coughs awkwardly when nobody says anything. "She wanted to get better drinks I promise. We had a shipment issue and I made do."
Oh. That's kind. You thought she hated you for a moment back there.
You want to pry, to ask more questions. Wanda is almost as hard to read as Agatha is. Or was. You're knocked right out of the conversation by Rio screaming "Sarah!" at the top of her lungs a good few times until Sally sighs, puts out her cigarette and stands.
"This woman will literally never get my name right."
But the sound of the three laughing in the distance is louder now like they're at a sleepover, you can't help but wonder what's so funny.
"Bring—" Rio is laughing almost too much to be able to finish her sentence, yelling loudly from behind the lawn decor. "—bring all of you yeah?"
Alicia smooths out her outfit, grabbing a fresh bottle of champagne from an ice bucket. The whiskey still in your hand. Probably warming it to a gross amount that'll catch you in trouble later. It's darker now, relying on the lanterns to make your way across the lawn, the three of you move with purpose and a little anxiety.
You wonder if the other two feel it, or whether they're more comfortable with their employers. Sally seems hot and cold with Rio, but you'd guess Alicia feels secure. Who knows. You can't even figure out your own emotions right now, never mind anyone elses.
—
They're still laughing as you approach them, leaning on some enormous sculpture like it's nothing. Wanda seems to have a lot of these, it makes sense you suppose, the lawn is huge empty space. What else would you put there? Maybe on your island you'd have a pool, or an outdoor gym you'd never use. A mini golf course. A bunch of animals.
Rio throws her hands in the air dramatically as you all approach, the other two still shrouded in a little darkness. This is an odd place for them to hang out. What about the house?
"Now it's a party!" She yells, she strikes a little fear into you with her unpredictability. It reminds you of Agatha in the worst way. At least she's your boss. At least she never asked you to do shots with her. "Can we figure out the fire pit guys?"
She gestures over to a seating area almost totally covered by the night, the lanterns not over in this part of the garden. Alicia nods instantly before heading over to the area, turning back to gesture you both over as Rio rejoins her conversation. You can't quite make out Agatha's face as your eyes adjust, you hope she's looking.
You feel like a child almost. Waiting for their mom to be done at her friends house and take you home. Tugging on her sleeve so you can go to bed.
You haven't been close enough to her to be that annoying. It's tempting though.
The two of you follow Alicia, and you open your eyes wide trying to see the area properly. A large square conversation pit with a big square in the middle. Ah, the fire pit. Gravel under your feet as you enter what seems to be some kind of designated seating area.
"Can you clear the seats of any leaves?" She asks you. You nod, heading to the couches to sweep off any debris while Sally and Alicia remove any stray twigs from the fire area. There aren't a lot, but it seems like maybe the place hasn't been fully sheltered from the changing weather, brushing a couple of leaves and pieces of dirt off of the plush fabric.
With the push of a button from the others, gentle lighting emerges from underneath the seats. A quaint orange glow. Comforting and almost warming. You turn to sweep off another seat with your hand. It is warm now. They must be heated.
The heat feels rewarding as you near the end of the couches. You hope they'll offer you to come and sit as the air gets colder.
Alicia ignites the fire and the warmth is phenomenal and almost overwhelming. You hadn't even realized how cold you actually are as the night envelops the island. Enjoying the radiance of the heat as it comforts the goosebumps on your bare arms.
Agatha must not have known how chilly it would get here at night, or maybe she just thought you wouldn't be here for long.
With the fire pit ready, you reluctantly turn to leave with the others, the warmth on your back as you head out as slowly as you can. Trying to soak up as much as possible like a turtle with a heat lamp.
The women approach but don't acknowledge you in any way, simply heading past to take their seats, settling into the intimate lighting and heat. Your eyes adjust.
"Wait." Wanda stops you as you leave. "Why don't you girls stay here? Help with the housekeeping, fix the pillows, serve the drinks? Wouldn't want you to catch a cold."
She's more polite than you first thought when you arrived on that island, her smile is comforting and you nod in response.
"Thought you didn't like it when they linger." Rio speaks flatly even though Sally is right there, but she seems like she's already heard it all, picking at a piece of lint on the couch.
"They're fine. It's the people on the back lawn I don't want nearby. I've spent enough time over there tonight."
The back lawn? You're so grateful the eavesdropping is consensual now.
"That bad? You're making me glad I got here late." Agatha chuckles and as you look over at her, your heart speeds up. Betraying you when you were just angry with her. Her legs crossed wide, heel half off of her foot as she gets comfortable, one arm splayed across the back of the couch. The other holds her glass delicately, all out.
You screw the lid off of her whiskey before stepping close to her, the smell of malt liquor and cherry and something else. Maybe the air of the closet on the yacht. You want to stay upset, to ask her if you really are special, but the temptation to crawl onto her is beyond measure. How the plush of her suit would feel against your bare legs, how her hands would feel on your waist, how the plug would feel inside you as she takes you to the edge.
Almost having to shake your head to make the thoughts run away, you begin filling up her glass. Precise, but less nervous. Warmer and more familiar with this dynamic she's part of.
This odd chess match they play. Performative. The fire pit curated by staff. The area private away from the rest of the lawn. It seems they've split off from the rest of the party as the night crept in. It's almost relieving.
Just a little earlier and you'd have to talk to many, many more people.
"Thank you sweetheart." Wanda praises you for filling Agatha's glass when she doesn't thank you herself.
Agatha might kill her if you blush from her words.
"Leroy was there." She draws her attention back to Agatha who begins sipping as soon as the cap is back on the bottle.
Rio laughs at the mention of Leroy, you scan the mental dossier for a name ringing a bell, but can't quite settle on who they're talking about. "Kept dropping his net worth to me like I would care about that."
Agatha seems amused at the concept, and you step aside a little, not sure if you're allowed to sit. Sally stands straight at the edge of the pit area, watching the trees blow. Alicia isn't anywhere to be seen.
"And what was it?" You try to keep a straight face at Agatha trying to fish for gossip even though she loves to say she doesn't care for it.
"Eighty million. People who mention that usually have nothing worth mentioning."
Wanda laughs at the joke. "That's like, a house."
"A small house." Your stomach churns at the topic. If that's a small house, what does Rio's house look like?
Being around Agatha has skewed your perception of anything. Things don't seem to have real value anymore. More like a concept than an actual figure. The thought of eighty million being a low amount makes the price of a cheeseburger seem like dirt on the side of the road.
The world they live in isn't shocking its incomprehensible.
"I spent more on that on art last year." Butterflies when Agatha speaks again, you try to tell them off, to remember you're confused, frustrated, but the fire within you burns still.
"They don't understand scale, it's why they think it's bragging. They think eighty million puts them in our world." Wanda adds.
Rio sighs like it's genuinely sad. "Probably flew commercial to get here."
You try and pry your eyes away from Agatha's hand as she gently touches the rim of her glass with her index finger, listening. You wish you could read her thoughts.
"God I hope not." Wanda puts her hand on her chest, mimicking concern. "Can you imagine? Well ladies, you're safe here." She pats the couch cushion. "Still on the other lawn, we won't even see them. They're like set dressing."
"He handed me a business card earlier."
That gets Agatha to look up. "A business card, to you?"
It's nice to not see them fight, weirdly.
"I know right? Took it and dropped it in the champagne fountain when he left me alone."
"Elegant solution, Rio."
Agatha clicks her fingers, you look up on instinct. She's somehow already she's finished her drink. You're baffled.
Back on the boat you would have made a comment, but you can't. Not here. So you do your job, pouring her another glass.
It flows out slowly again. This brand isn't something you've seen her drink before. Maybe it's really exclusive. You feel eyes burning into you, but they're not from Agatha.
They're coming from the other side of you.
Agatha's jaw clenches, confirming that Rio is looking at you as intensely as you can feel it.
"So what have you been. up to? Still terrorizing your team?" You take a step back so Rio can see Agatha clearly as she talks to her, whether she wants that or not.
"I fired three execs in one morning last month. Under ten minutes." She stretches a little further on the couch. It should be disgusting, the smile on her face as she talks about ruining lives, but something about it feels almost arousing. The power. The position. Knowing you're hers.
"You enjoy it, don't you? Sadist."
She throws her hands in the air.
Rio doesn't even know the half of it.
Fuck. You remember she totally does.
Zoning out of the conversation and trying not to wonder if what they're doing right now is some kind of sick flirting.
Feeling the plug inside you, feeling like hers, you notice the three of them in black with one gold accent. A watch. A necklace. A ring.
And you.
Part of them. In secret.
As you focus on keeping your cheeks cool, your chest flushes. Is this some kind of fucked up joke, or does she see you as equal?
You could never be on the same level of these people. It feels both good and bad all at the same time. Do you enjoy being an accessory to it? Enjoying her power trips? Her ego? You aren't sure. But you are still here.
You must do, in a way.
It's a lot to unpack.
The gravel crunches behind you as Alicia supervises a waiter carrying a tray of fresh glasses. She holds a large bottle in her hand. A different, new brand of champagne. One Agatha had on her jet.
The good stuff?
The waiter leans over as he approaches, intending to put the tray down on the arm of the couch, it's not typical, but you assume it's been a long and very intense party.
He shuffles awkwardly. Oh. New. He's new. In the light of the fire he looks young, reminding you of Adrian. His sweetness. His panic as Agatha sent him away this morning.
But she didn't fire him, you remind yourself. She didn't. God is it normal to remind yourself that your crush is secretly a decent person?
The women are silent under his gaze, watching him like a bird on a windowsill. Refusing to talk to him or help him in any way. Warmth all around. He fumbles. They watch him intensely it's almost odd. Turning to look at their expressions as you decide whether or not he needs your help, they watch. Eyes focused. His struggled noises the only sound as he tries to balance everything properly, realizing too late he shouldn't have made this mistake. It all happens too quickly even though it feels like forever. In the heat and the rising stress of the moment, he topples a glass forward. It falls too quickly even as he scrambles to grab it, landing harshly on it's ultra-thin stem.
Agatha and Rio burst out laughing. They weren't being considerate waiting for him. They weren't even being rude sitting in silence while he scrambled. They were waiting on their bet.
The waiter panics instantly picking up bits of glass from between the gravel on the floor, his breathing heavy and uncontrolled. Alicia opens the champagne near him, the noise and expectation stressing him more even though you're sure you didn't mean to. Sally doesn't help like some kind of unspoken rule, very interested in the fire pit. He picks up the large pieces, but the stem is smaller, shattered from the impact. He collects the shards in both his hands, picking at the small parts and putting them back on the tray. "Bit of a problem there huh?" Rio laughs while she waits for Alicia to fill up her old glass, clearly not worrying about the mingling of different champagne brands.
As soon as you notice blood from his hands drip onto the gravel below, you dive in to help, stopped only by Agatha clicking her fingers once again, pointing down to her now empty glass. It's worrying. You feel cruel, watching him suffer like the rest of them, pouring another portion for Agatha who adjusts her position a little, uncrossing her legs and re-crossing them on the opposite side. Unfazed by the mess happening next to her.
The man apologizes frantically when he's finished with the last few pieces, all now sat in a small clump on the tray. You don't feel angry anymore.
You feel a little scared.
Your heart is beating a little faster as you try and compose yourself.
"He seems loyal, huh." Agatha asks as she takes another unsettling sip.
He stands there, waiting to be dismissed. They study him in some kind of cruel champagne-drunk haze. Seeming like they enjoyed his suffering. The devotion of loyalty.
"Oh he is loyal, you are loyal aren't you?" Wanda asks, her voice silky and comforting despite the lack of compassion she showed him a moment ago.
"Yes ma'am." He nods, trying to force a smile, but his fingers are bleeding and you're sure he wants to curl up inside himself.
"Loyalty is a fascinating trait." She reads his name tag even though he works for her, though perhaps he was hired just for this party. "Alex?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Did you get all of that cleaned up?"
"Yes ma'am. My apologies. It was my fault, I rushed." He smiles a little, despite everything that's happening around him.
The lion enclosure at it's finest, except now they've gotten fresh meat.
"Loyalty and honesty. Are you honest, Alex?"
"Yes ma'am."
Wanda seemed so nice a moment ago, why is she making this poor boy stand there still?
Every inch of your insides beg for her to dismiss him.
"Answer me this Alex, if you're so honest." Alicia fills up her glass, receiving a small thank-you from her before she looks back to Alex. "Would you rather be me than you?"
He hesitates.
Her head tilts and you want to throw up. Nausea. Pure nausea fills your head when they all laugh at Wanda's question and Alex's hesitation. Putting him in this awful, terrible position he can't escape from even if he wanted to. She's using him for evening entertainment for her awful, terrible friends.
God what have you gotten yourself into?
Agatha does nothing. Doesn't even shuffle in her seat. Her eyes controlled and relaxed.
He closes his eyes for a second, like he knows he's going to have to give up his dignity if he wants to wash his hands and get paid.
"I'd rather be me than you, ma'am." His words are soft and sad, and Wanda smiles at the response.
"Thank you for your honesty, Alex. Now please go to medical and take the rest of the night off, okay?" Her words sweet again like none of that even happened.
Their brains are all warped and misshapen into some kind of un-relatable cruelty you can't understand.
"It's hard to find good staff these days, he's a good one." Agatha pipes up.
"Didn't think he was your type." Rio blurts out but it sounds a little less like a joke than you'd like.
"Too much eye-contact a lot of the time, or they hover there even after you wave them away."
"It's tips. They want tips." Wanda takes a sip finally.
"What do they spend tips on? It's a private island." Rio sits with her legs a little wider now, a little more relaxed. It's clear the alcohol is starting to hit her and you wonder how long ago that happened. It's been free-flowing.
"They squirrel it away until they get back to the mainland." Agatha explains like she's familiar with the concept. You bet she tips her house-staff good, you've seen her at restaurants.
Wanda gasps dramatically like she just remembered something awful. "I drove through a residential area last week. The houses are so close together?"
"How do people even live like that?" Rio takes a bigger sip now and you try and brace yourself for what Agatha is going to say, knowing she was just at your apartment.
"I saw a bus just the other day. People lined up all medieval in the cold. Just awful." You remember it, but didn't think anything of it. You assumed Agatha hadn't even noticed.
"A bus!?" Rio laughs. "Where were you?"
Agatha's eyes flick to you for a second like she can't decide whether to lie or not. It reminds you that she's been aware you've been stood here the whole time.
"Driver took a wrong turn."
Driver. She was the driver. What a joke. You want to scream at her.
"I truly don't understand it, you can get a cab from anywhere now."
You want to shake your head and tell them they don't understand. They don't get it. They'll never get it.
You shuffle awkwardly as you stand, Alicia seems to be gone again. That poor girl never gets a a break. Perhaps it would be the same for you if Agatha's 'friends' came to her island.
"Maybe if they didn't blow all their money on knockoffs they'd actually become successful enough for a driver." Rio laughs and your blood burns inside you. Vicious. You could tear them all down right now.
But what good would it do?
"Or a jet." Wanda laughs like she knows that one is a reach. Your eyes roll inside your skull.
"Just upgraded mine, worth every cent." Agatha raises her glass as a toast to her yet. Her newly upgraded jet. Her newly upgraded jet she ruined with champagne just to teach you a lesson.
"You go anywhere good in it?"
"Mostly meetings the past year."
"Oh, still chained to the desk?"
"Some of us still run our companies."
Wanda shuffles forward on her seat. God you want to leave.
"Must be exhausting working so hard to stay ahead of a company you basically inherited." Rio's eyes are wild and you know now she's trying to cause a scene.
Agatha reacts calmly, almost dangerously calm and you'd never expect anything else.
"I inherited the foundation and I built everything else. Don't you sell houseplants to bored wives?"
"Eco-automation, actually." Her voice rises a little in frustration. "At least I give a shit about it enough to build it."
"You think I don't care about my company?" Agatha laughs like she's being insane.
"No I think you adore making the world full of ugly glass buildings. Think it really goes with the rest of your interests. I definitely don't think you do it because grandaddy gave you three billion to keep running it." Her smile is wide and if looks could kill, Agatha's aiming the rifle.
You try not to choke.
"You both sound like children." Wanda tries to mediate, her glass placed delicately on a glass table next to her so she can put her arms out like she's trying to coax a wolf.
Rio whistles like she's going to start a physical fight. "Sorry how much did your husband leave you with again?"
"Enough." Wanda warns. Suddenly a piece of dirt on your dress becomes the most interesting thing in the world just so you can avoid having to look at them.
Please can we go back to the boat, please.
"Remind me of the prenup situation again would you?" She pushes.
"There wasn't one." But her words are softer now, calmer like she's plotting. Pressure rises within you.
Are they accusing her of murder? Actual murder? Surely not. With you just stood here? She has nothing to hide, no matter what they're suggesting, you tell yourself. If she did, she wouldn't have just admitted that.
"Right place right time." Agatha adds "I hear bio-mechanics makes a loootttt of money Maximoff." Please for the love of god just stay out of this.
You start to sweat. Ears ringing and you feel like you need fifteen weighted blankets just to return to normal.
"Remind me what happened to your mother again Harkness?" Wanda retaliates like it was ammo she was saving for a darker time and the sweat on your forehead becomes cold, cold in your veins and up your neck. Sickness rising in your stomach and your legs feeling weak.
They're accusing her of murder too?
What kind of party is this?
You blink hard. Agatha's forehead vein twitches in her head, her jaw tighter than you've ever seen it. Eyes glassy.
"Heart attack and you know that."
She slams the glass onto the table a little too hard and you beg for there to be no more broken glass at this event.
She storms out and towards the house, her heels precise and steady on the gravel despite everything. You know Agatha. She's cold but she's not a murderer.
The combination of alcohol and sick rich people is something else. You begin to follow her, to comfort her, to tell her you don't believe them. To have her take you back to the yacht. To hold her. They don't mean it. They're drunk. They're bickering. Trying to outdo each other.
As you reach the edge of the couch, Rio stands, towering over you just a little, causing you to stumble backwards. You catch yourself, keeping yourself steady.
"Where are you going sweetheart?"
Her words are deep and low, almost rumbling in your chest.
"I—" You look to Wanda for help, who pretends she doesn't notice, or more likely doesn't want to get in the middle of whatever Rio wants next after that display.
Maybe she just needs a minute.
"So what's your name?" She puts her hands up to shush you before you even get the chance. "Wait don't tell me, I like the mystery." Her eyes are wild. You take a step back, but she closes the gap instantly.
"So you're sleeping with her, yeah?"
Your blood runs cold and you can't remember a time you weren't in fight or flight mode and you're beginning to thing you might be more of a freeze. The crickets chirp in the air like a captive audience.
"That doesn't feel appropriate, Ms Vidal." You try throw her off, relax her. Stop her from causing any more damage.
"Oh come on, we all know. She's not exactly subtle.'
Maybe you're more flight than freeze after all. Turning your body to flee, to find Agatha. To get out of here. No answer is the right answer. Is this an act of trying to catch her out or is she jealous?
She grabs your wrist firmly, preventing you, her eyes are so intense. Does she want you? Does she want leverage? Does she want Agatha back?
You rip your arm away in one quick motion.
"Sorry, my bad. I get touchy when I drink sometimes." She makes a face like she's just so silly. Just so sweet. Couldn't possibly cause any actual damage.
You hope Agatha is okay on her own.
"You're nervous, it's cute."
"I'm not nervous, I'm just at work." You fight back, trying to sound as confident as possible even though you are very clearly nervous.
"Has she told you about the others?"
She wants to scare you off. That's what she wants.
"Yes." You reluctantly admit, having to address the situation. "I know about the other assistants."
She gasps loudly and dramatically. "Did she ever tell you we were together?" Jesus Christ what is the right answer here?
You knew, you knew already. Sally told you. But the confirmation, the thought of the two of them, her stood right in front of you. Jealousy. Burning jealousy. Anger. Not a concept anymore. A real person.
"She's still mysterious huh? It was a long time ago." She reaches forward to try and touch you again, but you pull back. "Before all the little assistants, and the models, and the dancers."
You hadn't even considered it would stray outside of her assistants.
"We were younger, dumber. I was poorer. She was a nice investor." She shrugs. "She was more fun. Less controlled. Maybe that was just for me. Maybe you'll never get to see it."
She smiles like your jealousy amuses her. Why hasn't Wanda stopped this? Backing up again and again as she talks.
"Is she still playing her little game? All gentle at first? Tiring you out so she can get in your head."
Your eyes show fear and distrust. They must. She can sense it. Her smile grows wider as she closes the gap again and again.
"That's her problem, you know? She gets bored. Did she tell you about the one upstairs?"
"The what?"
Agatha emerges at the only time you wouldn't want her to. Pushing Rio back slow and controlled. Rio follows her dominance like some kind of muscle memory, taking a step back. Her eyes intense and distressed, like this therapy session she forced you to be a part of has really tired her out.
"Rio you're scaring her."
You feel like you can't breathe. What is she talking about? Upstairs? Where?
Wanda clicks her fingers, Alicia making her way back over to the fire pit. Was she just watching this whole time? You spin your head trying to find out where Sally went. Can you trust anyone?
"We were just talking, isn't that right honey?" Rio coos at you, but her focus is entirely on Agatha who's fully stood between you. God it feels good to see her like this. Her claim. Her comfort.
Agatha's words are angry, but controlled and dangerous, her finger pointed straight at Rio's face.
"I will bury you if you touch her again, you understand? Your company, your reputation. I have enough dirt on your accounting to put you inside for twenty years."
"For her? You wouldn't."
"You want to try?"
"Like I don't have dirt on your company too, Harkness. Why else would we come here twice a year?"
"The amazing company!" Wanda yells from the distance, laughing like she sees this happen like clockwork.
Rio ignores her entirely. "Oh wait, this is fucking delicious." She takes a few steps back voluntarily. Her face contorting into a grin like she's just solved a puzzle, her hands in the air. "Agatha actually loves this one!" Her head thrown back as she cackles.
"I do not."
The prize. The pawn.
You feel it all.
But most of all you feel defeated at her confession.
"You're defending her like you do?" Rio tilts her head. "What makes her so special then, is it the tongue? Can I try it out?"
You try to hold back the appalling nervous laughter in your throat at the absurdity of the situation, thinking about what your life was like a few weeks ago when you sat in your bedroom, watching House on your laptop and hoping Agatha would look at you in work the next day.
"She's nothing Rio, drop it."
She's nothing.
She's nothing.
She's nothing.
She's nothing.
She's nothing.
Your insides emptied into a hollow shell at the confirmation of your earlier worry. You shiver from the cold despite the fire burning hot. If you ran to the boat now, would you make it before someone caught you?
Would they bother chasing you?
"If she's nothing, you won't mind if I take her off your hands then? You wanna come work for me honey?" Rio pivots around Agatha, diverting your attention. "I can pay you whatever she does, plus benefits." She winks. Your lungs give in.
"She's a well trained asset. No deal." Agatha leaves you stood there, returning to the seat she was in before they started bizarre and highly incriminating arguments you haven't even been able to consider processing with everything happening.
Sally stands near you, emerging from the woodwork she had crawled into. Perhaps worrying about her job, perhaps to try and lure Rio away from you. She's addressed instantly. "Relax. Haven't forgotten about you. Just sorting some business."
You both look down, the real reason Sally returned. She's holding small silver tray with cut cigars and matches. This party is continuing?
After all this?
Does this always happen?
"Agatha always gets special treatment." Rio whines to Wanda as she studies the tray like this is a normal next step, rejecting Sally's offering and finally finally returns to her seat. "You know I don't like the cubans."
You breathe easier now there's space between you, Agatha takes a cigar. The only one to do so. Does she have some kind of agreement with Wanda?
Sally leaves the tray on the table like an offering for her, before coming to stand next to you again. Her presence making you feel like you have at least one ally here.
Feeling defeated, deflated as you watch her examine the stick and sit back in her seat. Rage burns in your chest as you compare the image with her now to the image with her from this morning. Is still still not grounds for leaving? Is there some kind of quota?
Was it all an act?
For sex?
For submission?
For boredom?
"Aren't you going to light it for her, dear?" Rio offers, and you can't tell if she's joking or not. Did she do that for her? Do her assistants usually offer themselves to do that job?
You grab a match reluctantly, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the situation, before placing the tip of it in the fire pit, and leaning forward, feeling the eyes all on you.
"She was just joking honey." Wanda laughs, Rio just wanted to see you do it, you should be pissed but you're entranced.
Close to her again, the cigar placed between her lips. Eye contact. Finally eye contact. The brush of her hand against your leg. The heat between you that doesn't just feel like fire. Your body clenches around the plug you'd almost forgotten about in the haze of everything. Still hers.
It should disgust you, it should. But right now in this second, her eyes full of lust and mercy. Like she needs you. Deep and intense. Something strong. She takes a long breath, smoke in the air, legs wide and inviting you to crawl up onto her, kissing her neck while she enjoys her evening.
Maybe the next time. You close your eyes trying to push the thoughts out. She's bad. Cruel. Unloving. Incapable of it, maybe. Proven over and over again.
And yet, you lean back up, the whole ordeal feeling longer and much more sensual than you could have even imagined, the air so thick in your little bubble that you almost miss Rio talking, and you wish you could have, to be honest.
"Oh there it is, they're totally fucking."
Agatha rolls her eyes. You take a few steps back to create a little more space, waiting for this part to be over. Maybe soon you'll leave.
Maybe she'll have a conversation with you. Tell you she had to say those things so they'd leave her alone.
That's probably it, you remind yourself. It's hard, but you know it's likely true.
She hadn't brought another girl on that boat. Hadn't looked into their eyes while she fucked them. Hadn't driven them in a private car, showed them the skyline from above. Came into their apartment and looked at photos of their childhood pets.
Opened up.
You soften a little. Calming down. Remembering why you're dressed like this. Why you have a secret inside you. Why you're here in the first place.
You're special. You're hers.
"Why don't you show us this training if that's what's keeping you so close to her, Agatha?" Wanda asks like she's actually curious. You feel betrayed a little by her, this could have all blown over.
Agatha scoffs. "I don't think that's necessary." She states as she takes another drink, before pairing it with the cigar.
"Oh I know." Rio offers. "Why don't we play a game? A loyalty test?"
Loyalty again.
Wanda raises an eyebrow, like this is something they've played before. "Ooh. What a fun idea! Agatha loves those."
Alicia doesn't seem concerned, so you don't expect anything worrying. Your form still soft, but still waiting to leave. It hasn't been a long time, but it feels like you've been here for hours. Like personal purgatory.
"Which one of you wants to go first?"
Is she going to ask you a question about Agatha? Make you book something for her? Alicia raises her hand, willing to take the plunge. She's been here the longest, you suppose. You look to Agatha. Her eyes are dark.
She looks, unsettled.
"Good girl." Wanda approves. "Why don't you get me your wallet?"
What?
Alicia doesn't seem worried, reaching into the pocket on her dress and pulling out a small brown wallet.
"Take the money out, dear."
She does, its silent aside from the rustling of papers and the fire burning. She has about sixty dollars.
"Burn it." Alicia looks to Wanda for confirmation. "You trust i'll pay it back, don't you?" She nods, hesitating for only a second before throwing it into the fire.
She's met with applause from her boss, followed by everyone else. "Well done. I'll pay you back double before I go to bed, deal?" Alicia seems pleased. The bond they have is unusual but she seems secure here. If it wasn't for the display with the waiter earlier, you could like Wanda. It's hard to know whether she's just painfully removed from society or not.
Rio ponders for a second. "I just wanted to see what yours was going to do, we don't need a loyalty test, Sally knows all of my secrets," Sally confirms with a murmur, noticing Rio called her by her proper name. You wonder whether she only calls her the wrong name as some kind of fake power play or disinterest in her.
"Boo." Wanda pouts. "Theres no proof of that one. You were out for blood with your last assistant."
"Well I don't pay her in cash and we've already shed blood today, what do you want me to do? If we burn her shoes like last time she'll have to wear something of mine. I'd rather not."
Wanda tuts dismissively, what kind of things did they do last time?
You'd rather not think about it.
"Okay, well you lose if Agatha's one can't do better, what do you say lovely?" She looks to you, you look to her, and then back to Agatha.
Agatha raises her hands in the air like she wants nothing to do with it.
"Oh come on, it's nothing dangerous or scary." Wanda continues again "You love this game, remember when we had that girl buy—" Agatha cuts her off.
"Yes I remember." It's like in real time she remembers the rumors they have about her as she looks at the two of them, and back to you.
The air is thick with tension you don't quite understand as they watch for her to decide what your test will be.
And then,
she points to the ground. Right there in front of them. Your body reacts before your brain can, and you feel yourself start to lower onto the gravel before her. Her eyes are dark and unreadable and you're too far down before you realize what's happening. Where you are. Who you're with.
She laughs as they both applaud and you see her without the rose tinted glasses. The romanticization. The fluff. Turning the helicopter around. Buying you artwork. Reading you to sleep.
She thinks you don't know her. She means this version. The version laughing at your expense after subtly training you to be perfect for her.
In what was supposed to be a private session.
Is it more uncomfortable if you get up? The gravel digs into your knees. Will you draw more attention if you move? You aren't sure what to do, head spinning and ears ringing as you look at her hoping for some kind of compassion or reassurance.
"You've always had a very elegant way of doing things Agatha. Very impressive." Wanda comments like this isn't insanely humiliating. Like you aren't being used as some kind of evening entertainment. Her words sound sincere, like she just doesn't get it at all.
"She likes molding them." Rio laughs, looking through you and towards Agatha. "I've missed you, you know."
"We're working on crawling next, but she's a little slow at picking it up."
She reaches down to touch your hair like you're her pet on the ground, you flinch away from her in anger. She's airing you out to her friends. Drunk and cruel.
"Don't tell me you're still hiring the dumb ones?" Rio coos. "It's not fair when they can't understand what you're doing, Agatha." She pouts.
A single tear runs down your face before you even realize it's happening, wanting to curl up and have this be over. Be with Agatha, but not this version, the real version.
But what if this is the real version?
You want something unreachable. Yearning. Aching.
"Oh she's bright really, I think you'd both approve." She attempts to touch you again, you flinch once more, moving backwards so you're in a better position to get the fuck out of here. She pulls her hand back like you've tried to bite her. "Don't be so rude."
"Well-trained my ass, she just likes making them cry." Rio concludes. "I think Agatha loses." You can't look at her, at any of them.
"Poor thing, they're so mean to you huh?" She reaches forward to try wipe your tear away. Your eyes are glassy when she finally gets to touch you. Where was this person when she defended you earlier?
Not defending you because she cares for you, but because you're her property. Control.
"Wanna show them how good you look when you crawl, pet?"
That's enough.
You scramble to your feet. It's clumsy and they all gasp like this is the biggest drama of the century. Laughing and jeering after you as you kick off the stupid heels so you can move properly, leaving them somewhere in the grass for Alicia to probably find. You'd feel bad, but at least Wanda's test was paid back. Even Rio didn't make Sally do anything. Not even one thing.
Agatha didn't have to do that.
She didn't have to. She wanted to. She needed to prove just how mighty and important she was. Forgetting everything she's built with you.
Before you know it you're out of there, walking as fast as you can towards the house, you'll find the bathroom in this fucking place and then you'll get the hell out of here. Pack a bag. Get the staff to take you back to New York. Quit your job. The thought makes you sob, uncontrollably sob. Like you're caught in a weird intense nightmare you just can't shake yourself from.
All that trust and for what? Just to show off to her asshole friends? Was any of it even real?
You storm into the weird glass house, finding a bathroom instantly. This place probably has a hundred. Mascara running down your face you dab at with tissues, splashing water on there to try and help you breathe normally. Catch your breath. Ground yourself. The sink is cold and pristine. You cover it in black as you try and calm down. Another job for Alicia, you think.
Your body shakes, and you lock the door tightly, leaning against it while you overthink the plan.
It feels extreme for a second, but isn't it all? A mess you're in. Getting too attached to someone the world told you was untrustworthy.
She told you in her own words. Over and over again.
You breathe, it becomes normal. Slower. A few minutes, a few more. What feels like forever.
Footsteps emerge outside the door and you stay still, almost too still. Is it her? Is she looking for you?
"We're all friends Agatha, you bought her silence permanently yet or what?" Rio pushes, you hold your breath with your hand like you're in a horror film.
"I gave her what she wanted, a business."
"In your building, where you can watch her. Bet you like that."
Who are they talking about?
You can't process any more. You physically can't.
"Brilliant. Keep your enemies close." Wanda adds.
"She's not my enemy."
"What is she then?"
"A reminder of what happens when I lose control with someone."
You feel your hands shaking, trying to remember the words for later. For tomorrow when your head is clear and your body has recovered.
"And this new one, are you being careful with her?"
"There's nothing to be careful about."
"Agatha you look at her like—" Rio sighs, and it feels oddly genuine. "—like she's not replaceable."
"She is. I already told you."
Tears fall again despite you trying to hold them back. You get it. You're nobody. You fucking get it.
You can't stay in here any longer, your body aches. At this point you need out and you need it now. Forgetting her status, her secrets, her friends. You burst out of the bathroom like any normal scorned woman.
They jump, like they didn't expect you to be there. Nobody saying anything as you stand before them, Agatha's face pale and angry when she realizes where you were the entire conversation.
"Fuck you." Your words are fire and feral as you rush back to the yacht, they let you on no questions, things in the same place they were before.
Before this. All of this.
--
The bedroom is quiet and quaint and the memories of this morning feel tainted and disgusting as you shove your things back into your bag, zipping it up. Opening back up to shove her pillow mints in there. Who gets pillow mints anyway? What a joke. Your breath heavy. Unsure of your plan really. They'd take you home, you know they would. Or they'd call you another flying deathtrap to come pick you up.
You'd be brave, you'd face it alone. You'd get over this, eventually.
Your heart stops in your chest when you turn to leave, bag in hand.
There she is, stood in the doorframe, her arms either side of it. Shirt unbuttoned a little bit. Your body goes against you, wanting her, needing her. Her smell, her warmth, her touch.
No. Not now. Not after tonight. What you need is space, at least for tonight. The betrayal, the harsh words, the odd mysterious conversations you'll need to piece together in the morning like some kind of awful incriminating jigsaw.
"You can't go anywhere right now, you're in the sea."
Her voice is awfully calm for someone you're trying to leave. Like she's daring you to go.
"Fuck you."
"You already said that one. What are you gonna do, swim back to your apartment?"
"I could go with Rio." You stab back. "She seemed pretty keen, is she a good fuck?"
Agatha Harkness will regret making you upset and she will regret making you angry. You can see her blood boil in real time.
"What the hell are you talking about you're being insane."
"Am I?"
"You're mine. You won't get off this boat and you won't see her again, you understand?"
You laugh like a madman as you push past her into the corridor.
"I'm making them take me home."
Tears are building, pain in the back of your throat. Your perfect vacation. The sweetness. The fantasy of it all. As if you believed it.
"No." She follows you. "You can't go. I won't let you."
"Let me?" You're already walking, slowly but moving.
"You're mine, don't you understand? You can't just run away from me." Her words are controlled, but you can hear the restraint in her voice. Trying not to yell. Trying not to scare you.
She looks broken.
"What does it matter?" You reply calmer, less loud. Less angry. Hurt. The real emotion underneath the rage. "You don't do girlfriends, just contracts and obedience and assistants, right?
She just swallows, like she knows this was always going to happen. Like she's been fighting off her past forever and it's taken it's toll. Whispering your name under her breath like she doesn't quite know what to say.
You've got her where you want her. Listening. You take a step towards her, just one. Just as a test.
"Using me like some kind of sacrifice in your twisted little games. I thought I knew you. I thought I did."
She laughs but it isn't funny, its exhaustion, it's overwhelm, it's disbelief and anger and frustration. "You think you understand what it's like to be me? To be around people like that? If they smell weakness they'll eat you alive."
"So you fed them me instead? Glad you think your reputation is more important than me. Just some asset who has to get the subway to work. Who lives in a neighborhood where people catch the fucking medieval bus or whatever, where people work themselves to the bone to try make a decent living."
Words you had almost forgotten she had said in the fog of it all. Things you weren't even sure hurt you properly until now.
She laughs once. It's almost scary. Dangerous, she takes a step towards you, slowly like a predator. One and and another. You don't step away, deep down.
Maybe you still trust her.
Are you a fool?
You're a fool.
"Oh. I see." Her eyes are dark as she's next to you, a grin on her face. "You still think you're one of them?"
You swallow, unsure of what to make of it. Unsure of how your body is reacting.
"That is what I am, whether you like it or not. I'm just like those people. I live with my roommate. I can't afford a car. I'm one of those people. One of those girls." Your voice just above a whisper as she closes the gap between the two of you.
Suddenly you're pushed against the wall by her body weight, your heart pounding in your chest as her hand rests firmly on your neck. Not cutting off air. Not creating fear.
Forcing you to look her in the eyes.
"Aw. That's endearing."
Your mind feels broken.
"But do those girls have a gold plated toy in their ass right now?" Your breath catches in your throat. "Pretty diamond on it too if i remember."
You should want to tell her to go away, to let go of. you. You're torn on who you are and who you want to be. Her claim on you is everywhere right now. Hers despite all of this.
What is happening to you?
The smell of whiskey and cigar smoke is strong on her lips as she pushes herself against you, looking down slightly from her heels. The suit soft against your skin. Her pupils blown.
"Do those girls sleep on a yacht at night, huh?" She grins. "Do they get breakfast made from house staff?"
She moves your legs apart gently with the tip of her heel.
"Do those girls have a full new wardrobe with designer brands? Do they get the latest phone?"
Her hand moves from your neck to your lips, touching gently as she studies your reaction to her.
"Tell me, i'm asking. Do they get picked up in private cars? Driven to penthouses? Go to galas and private islands and get fucked on private jets?"
She laughs as you process her words, the smell of the malt plummeting deep into your system.
"Do you think they get mommy's unlimited credit card, huh? You're just like me. You love it. Admit it. Show me that pretty diamond."
You whimper at her words, but tilt your head to the side.
"You're drunk."
"It's point five percent. You think i'd drink the stuff on Maximoff's island and lower my inhibition when fucking Vidal is there? Don't think i'm so stupid."
Of course she's two steps ahead.
"You think you're better than me because of where I picked you up? Because of your morals? You like me. You like the power. You like being close to it. You wouldn't be here otherwise." A low voice. Quiet and accusatory.
"I like the part of you that pretended to be human, Agatha."
She chuckles in disbelief.
"Oh using my name, you think it's a weapon babygirl? Someone's gotten confident."
"This isn't you. I've seen it. I've seen you."
"You don't like what I give you, is that it? You still see yourself as one of the people?"
She runs her hand up your thigh, the dress is shorter than what she'd usually have you wear. You close your eyes with trust you can't take away from her, even if you wanted to.
Her face moves in slow, her body gentle against yours as she presses her lips against your ear.
"If you don't like any of this—" You can feel her grin into your ear. "—Then why are you so wet right now?"
She presses her palm against you through the thong she'd picked out, you aren't even sure. Haven't even had a second to think, you press yourself further against her.
"I own you and you like it. You like what I am, admit it."
All the bad things said. All the rumors spread. And you still want her. Want to obey her. To get on your knees for her.
Kneeling.
Fuck. Your head isn't clear.
The thought burns in your brain, you can still hear the applause as you followed your command, and you push her away.
"You own me because I let you." You look into her eyes in a messy mix of desire and irritation. "I obey you because I trusted you, and I can take it away."
She steps back, realizing your words.
Accountability.
Finally.
A long pause as she looks at you, her breathing returning to normal.
"Okay."
Like she remembers she fucked up.
Like she knew that was too far.
Something undiscussed.
Something you didn't even realize you'd respond to quite so physically.
"Okay. I can take you home." She runs a hand over her face, thinking hard. "Yeah. okay. I can take you home, transfer you something. A gift, not hush money. You'll never have to see me again. Is that what you want?"
Her words are sad but clear, like she's actually a person again. Like she's finally snapped out of whatever frenzy this was.
Is that what you want?
You blink.
The tension thick. Heat burning between you. A crossroads. Back to the life you knew before, no Agatha, but her money.
You could get a different apartment. Maybe go back to your art. Maybe find a great new job. A girlfriend. Someone nice and normal. Someone who'll introduce you to her friends. Buy you a rose. Split a meal with to keep costs low.
Her eyes are serious and sincere.
Or you could stay here, with Agatha.
With the consequences of her actions.
--
A/N What if I apologize for 13k words and then just top it with 16k. What if I can't stop. Then what!! You may have noticed on the top i've opened a tip jar. No expectations or anything and i'll never paywall any of my work but I thought it would be worth doing since Christmas is coming up and unfortunately I don't have a real billionaire evil sugar mommy. Sigh. Anyway let me know your thoughts? Too much, not enough? I was on the fence of whether to make them nicer or just like super cruel but didn't want it to get too dark since it's multi chapter.
theartofmadeline
janainaart
vaporwave
kianamaiart
