The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (historical books to read txt) 📗

"Got this for you in anticipation."

I couldn't quite bring myself to say thanks. I took the bag from him and stuffed the tools into it.

Lee returned his focus to the screen. "We still have about fifteen minutes before we're due to leave," he said. "Viggo is there." He pointed to a red dot near Crescent River. I couldn’t find the other four dots, though I spotted my own. I hadn't questioned Lee about the tracker he'd given me and he hadn't mentioned it either. There wasn't much to say, given that I'd be dead by now if he hadn't thought to do it.

Lee shut down the map. "We won't need this after tonight," he said. "I'm going to be uninstalling it from my system and wiping all traces of it."

After he'd finished getting rid of the map, we headed downstairs.

"I've called a car service," he explained as he led me out of the house.

It was a warm evening, the clear sky streaked with hues of orange. A shiny black vehicle rolled up on the gravel five minutes later. The chauffeur got out to let us into the back of the car.

As we drove off, I glanced back at Lee's pyramid house. It was strange to think that this would be the last time I ever laid eyes on it. My sanctuary since I'd arrived. I felt a dull tug of guilt that I hadn't bidden farewell to Samuel.

Even though it was rush hour, the journey went quickly. Time seemed to have sped up, and I was grateful for it.

Soon, the car was drawing into the parking lot of the laboratory, and Lee was helping me out. I checked my watch. Six twenty-eight.

Entering the building's reception, I could hear the sound of male chatter. Lee led me past the lobby, along a corridor, and into the same lounge I had visited during my first trip to the lab. Extra seating had been placed in here, along with two extra billiards tables. The room was packed. I spotted a couple of familiar faces from my first visit: Simon, and then Richard, Lee's boss. It was as my eyes fell on the latter that I realized I wasn't the only woman here. There were two other wives, both apparently belonging to Richard—a blonde and a brunette. Wearing tightly fitted gowns, teetering heels, and long earrings that tangled with their curled hair, they didn't look much older than me. They stood on either side of him, clutching his arms. I looked away as they caught my eye.

Lee began to mingle with the crowd, introducing me to people as we passed. My mind was too distant to retain names. I merely smiled and nodded my head politely, which was all they expected from me anyway.

I kept glancing at my watch as Lee engaged in conversation. At six forty-five, Lee made his way with me over to an empty snack table as an excuse to get a bit of breathing—or rather, talking—space. "You heard what Simon said?" he asked me beneath his breath as he popped a salt-encrusted nut into his mouth.

"No." I wasn't able to concentrate on the conversations.

"He said King Maxen confirmed his plan to come. He's expected at seven-ten, about the time we're due to head into the banquet hall."

Five minutes before Viggo.

"So does that change anything?" I murmured.

"We just have to hope he's not late."

We returned to the sofas. The next twenty-five minutes slipped away in a blur of dark-colored suits and jovial chatter. As seven-ten drew in, the room became noticeably quieter, everyone anticipating the king's arrival. Then a man poked his head through the door to announce that the king would be delayed by five minutes.

Lee's face noticeably tightened at the information. That would give everyone ten minutes to settle into the banquet hall before the bombs imploded at half past. Assuming King Maxen didn't arrive even later—the banquet wouldn't start without him. If the bombs went off before we made it to the hall, they would still cause a distraction, of course, but Lee and I wouldn't be able to slip away so easily and discreetly to do what we needed to do.

But none of this worry was necessary. At seven-sixteen, the same man who'd come to announce King Maxen's lateness returned to announce his arrival. About a minute later, a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a light gray—almost silvery—suit appeared in the doorway. He had thick sandy brown hair that extended to his jawline, which sported an immaculately groomed goatee. Clutched in his right hand was some kind of walking stick, though to call it that would be an injustice. It looked more like a scepter, forged of what appeared to be solid silver, its rounded clutch engraved with gold. Behind him stood two burly-looking men who hardly fit into their straight tuxedos. Bodyguards, no doubt.

A smile peeled across King Maxen's face, flashing a set of pearly white teeth. I had seen his picture before, but it was quite a different experience meeting him in the flesh. I could understand why people called him charismatic. There was an energy he brought to a room. "Gentlemen," he said, his voice smooth and deep. "I do apologize for keeping you waiting. Apparently, even the king is susceptible to rush hour in Patrus City."

Chuckles swept around the room.

"Shall we proceed to the hall?" he posed.

Everybody who had been seated rose immediately and bowed. The king turned and headed down the hallway with his bodyguards, while the rest of us filed after him.

The banquet hall was several doors along and the aroma of food filled my nostrils as we entered. The hall contained a huge table spanning the entire length of the room. Shiny steel warmers and platters were already laid out down the middle of the table, along with plates and cutlery. I pitied the man who ended up at the opposite end of the table. It was so close to