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THE PROFESSIONAL
A WORLD OF EMBER NOVEL
AIDÈE JAIMES
The Professional
A World of Ember Novel
by Aidèe Jaimes
Copyright@2020 by Aidèe Jaimes
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and
events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s
imagination or used fictitiously.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
World of Ember
About
Books Under Aidèe Jaimes:
Books Under Haden Hudson:
CHAPTER 1
MILA
“F uck. Fuck! I mean, I know what I paid for, but…I didn’t think
he’d actually do it.” My client shuts her eyes tight, as if doing
it will make this go away. “Fuck,” she half-whispers, half-cries.
I watch her go through the emotions I’ve grown accustomed to
seeing. Shock, pain, anger. I’m giving her time to process the scenes
I’ve just slapped on the table in front of her. Me with her husband in
a very compromising position. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harris.” I reach over
and touch her forearm in an attempt to console her but pull back
when she winces.
Her watery blue eyes lift to mine and I realize we’re at the anger
stage. Angry with me. She swallows a thick knot in her throat as she
glances away, then wipes hard at the tears that streak her cheeks.
“It’s what I paid for, isn’t it, number eighty-seven?” she spits my
assigned number as if it’s foul. I’m used to that too.
Yes, it’s what she’s paid me to do. To seduce a man who swore
to love her yet has a bad habit of beating the shit out of her and
then fucking his secretary. And his housekeeper. Not to mention his
sister-in-law. She catches him in the act, he falls to his knees and
swears never to do it again, only to beat the shit out of her the
following month and start the cycle all over.
It may seem like insanity to stay with a man like him. But she’s
not insane. She knows that if she walks away, she’ll walk away
penniless. He’ll even take her kids, because without money to pay
for a big-shot attorney, she’ll be shit out of luck.
No, she’s not insane. What she is, is stuck. She trusted the wrong
human being, let him take control. When the prenuptial agreement
was signed, she never imagined he’d betray her in every way. She
signed without reading, completely unaware of the tiny clause
stating that if she ever initiated a separation, she’d leave with
nothing. Even what she brought to the marriage would be his. And
she’d brought a budding social media marketing company with her.
But she let him run it to give her time to concentrate on the “social”
aspects. Now she stands to lose that too.
Unless…
The loophole. I love those. It’s the only thing that’s going to give
her the ability to leave him, take her two children and half of
everything he owns. Which, in Douglas Harris’s case, is five million
dollars. That’s if he’s lucky—it may be more.
What’s that loophole, you ask? Infidelity.
He may have been guilty of it since the day they signed the
marriage certificate, but she’ll be damned if she can produce a single
piece of evidence. That’s where I come in.
I’m one of three people Ember calls on with these requests.
Number eighty-seven is the number I was assigned when I was
recruited. They never use my real name. It keeps me safe. It keeps
all their contractors safe. With a company that works in creating the
scenes their clients wish for, most of which are of a sexual nature,
they have to be.
That’s what Ember is. A multi-million-dollar fantasy maker. They
grant what we call “desires.” And there’s something for everyone.
The school teacher, the dead wife brought back, the maid. In my
case, I’m a ring collector. Someone who’s willing to have sex with a
married man in order to give women like Mrs. Harris the ammunition
she needs to end an abusive relationship. In return, I get a fat check
and his wedding ring.
She called Ember, they researched her, and they sent her to me
with my fee of five thousand dollars for one night with Douglas,
where I’ll use my tiny camera to capture it all.
He was an easy one. I “bumped” into him at the Social Hall Club.
Sometimes it takes time to get a man interested, especially if he’s
already getting it elsewhere. But Douglas liked me instantly, I could
tell. His brown eyes bulged when I sat beside him at the bar and
accidentally spilled a bit of water down the front of my silver dress.
I took him to the hotel that night. Handsome though he may be,
I grimaced every time he touched me, thinking of how stupid he is
for letting his dick ruin his life.
Now I’m presenting the proof Mrs. Harris needs. But she doesn’t
like it. No one ever does.
“How can you do this type of work?” she asks, shakily stacking
the photos and returning them to the large envelope I gave them to
her in. “Does it come easy to women like you?”
“Yes,” I reply sharply. “As easy as it will be for you to rake him
across the coals when you take him to court.” I stand, collecting my
coat and purse. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mrs.
Harris.”
I leave without glancing back. This job is done.
S ix months later…
B ruce Wessex. I enter his name in the search bar and get
hundreds of results. He’s CEO of Astor-Wessex Corporate,
shareholder of Raw Tek Enterprises, chairman at the Astor Children’s
Hospital, and owner of several other companies around the United
States and Europe.
His father, Asa Wessex, came from money, his family owning
several commercial contracting firms. But it was his mother,
Madeleine, who was the real heavyweight as heiress to the Astor
fortune that was made in oil. He has an older brother, Thomas, and
a younger brother not named here.
There are very few photographs of Bruce with his wife, Jayla, but
the ones I do find are from years ago. Nothing recent. It makes
sense. If there’s trouble in their marriage, they may not be together
much.
I glance at the ticket lying beside the keyboard and run a finger
over the large gold letters surrounded by diamonds. Astor Children’s
Hospital Benefit Gala at The Linderly.
That piece of paper cost Seidi one hundred fifty thousand dollars.
It’s an insane amount I’m sure she didn’t flinch at, especially
considering that the price tag on this contract will be one million. I’ll
get a hefty percentage of that, more than my usual five-thousand-
dollar pay. Though that’s not the reason I’m doing it, it certainly
makes it easier.
I’ll arrive in Los Angeles tomorrow afternoon, just in time to meet
with Jayla Wessex. If I decide to follow through, I’ll don the silver
dress I always wear. The one and only time I didn’t was the only
time I failed. Some would say it’s my lucky dress. Could be cursed.
Depends on how you look at it.
Either way, when I put it on, I become someone else. I remove
myself from the equation so that I can do what I need to. I will
become a seductress.
However, for now, I study him, learning everything I can about
him. I need to understand him better if I have any chance of
succeeding. What kind of woman would get his attention?
The information I received from Ember states he manages to
stay hidden from cameras unless he’s paying for them. He was a
playboy prior to Mrs. Wessex. But after? Well, from what Jayla says,
he’s never stopped. Just learned to hide it.
My eyes shift from photographs of him to her. The daughter of a
neurosurgeon, she grew up rich. But other than being a socialite, I’m
not sure she has a career. She’s beautiful in that “paid for it” sort of
way. Her hair, her body, and clothes all reek of extreme amounts of
money being spent. But even with that, her expression doesn’t show
any joy, and it makes me feel sorry for her. Yes, I know what that’s
like too.
I go to my closet to finish packing for my two-week trip. As I
search through my clothes, something on the floor catches my eye.
Kneeling, I drag it out because it’s too large to lift. The jar of rings.
It’s not full, not anywhere close. But even with all that space, there’s
no more room. I can’t see myself doing this anymore.
Then I spot it. The very first ring I threw into the glass jar. I can
still hear the sound it made as it clinked against the very bottom.
Made of titanium, it’s a simple band with no engravings, no
diamonds. Yet that plain, nondescript band had the power to destroy
me.
I give the jar a shake, causing the other rings to tumble and
cover it, then shove it back into its hiding place out of sight. I stand
and finish packing.
In two days, I might be stepping inside the grand ballroom of the
Linderly Grande Hotel, and if all goes well and Bruce Wessex is in
fact a womanizer, I’ll have him caught in my trap before the night is
over.
D
paper.
anny is waiting for me in the lobby of the hotel when I arrive.
He’s sitting in a leather lounge chair, pretending to read the
Jefim oli tuskin ehtinyt näin päätellä, kun tuo mies alkoi rukoilla.
Hän kumartui kolme kertaa: kerran eteenpäin Jumalalle ja sitten
oikealle ja vasemmalle oikeauskoiselle kristikunnalle. Ja kun hän
käänsi päänsä oikealle, näki Jefim todellakin ystävänsä Jelisei
Bodrovin. Hän tunsi tämän mustan kiharan parran, josta pilkisti
harmaata poskien kohdalla, silmäkulmat, silmät, nenän ja koko
kasvot — Jelisei Bodrov ilmielävänä.
Jefim tuli hyvin iloiseksi, kun oli jälleen tavannut
matkakumppaninsa, ja ihmetteli samalla, miten tämä oli päässyt
perille ennen häntä.
Jefim vaelsi samaa tietä kuin mennessäänkin. Kun hän läheni kotia,
valtasi hänet huoli omaisista: kuinkahan nämä ovat tulleet toimeen
hänen poissaollessaan? — Vuodessa ehtii paljon tapahtua, —
ajattelee hän itsekseen. Koko elämä menee ihmiseltä
kuntoonpanemiseen, mutta hävittämiseen tarvitaan hyvin vähän
aikaa. Kuinkahan poika lienee hoitanut taloa? Millainen mahtoi olla
kevät, miten on karjan laita ollut talvella, kuinka uusi rakennus on
onnistunut? Jefim tuli samoille tienoille, missä oli edellisenä vuonna
joutunut eroon Jeliseistä. Asukkaita ei voinut enää tuntea samoiksi.
Kuka edellisenä vuonna oli nähnyt nälkää, eli nyt herroiksi. Vilja oli
kasvanut hyvin, ihmiset olivat taas päässeet hyvään alkuun ja
näyttivät unohtaneen entisen surkeuden. Iltapuolella päivää Jefim
joutui samaan kylään, missä oli Jeliseistä eronnut. Hän oli tuskin
ennättänyt kylään, kun pieni valkeaan paitaan puettu tyttönen juoksi
ulos mökistä huutaen hänelle:
— Poikkea meille, ukko. Saat meillä illallista ja voit olla meillä yötä.
— Ei, isoäiti, hän laski repun ensin maahan keskelle tupaa ja nosti
sitten penkille.
Jefim oli ollut poissa tasan vuoden. Kun hän palasi kotiin, oli taas
kevät.
— Olisit itse hoitanut asiat, virkkoi poika. — Mutta sinä läksit maita
kiertämään ja otit mukaasi kaikki rahat. Minunko niistä on tehtävä
tiliä!
KOIRANI
I
BULJKA.
BULJKA JA METSÄKARJU.