Treasures Ch. 01-02

Author's Note: This is my first time writing. Constructive feedback welcome. If people like what I'm writing then I can continue it. All characters in this story are age 18+. Themes in this chapter and/or potential future chapters include organized crime, nonconsent/reluctance, lesbian incest (mother/daughter), and master/slave. If you find any of these elements offensive, please do not read.

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Chapter 1

Friday, 4:00pm

"In summary Mr. Anderson, we have seen an overall rise of 9.7% over the last quarter despite an increase of recent expenditure in the pharmaceutical department and certain...staffing modifications. This rise is primarily credited to Mr. Wright and his team securing several lucrative contracts."

"Thank you, Donovan, you can sit now," James spoke after the report.

James Anderson had long been exhausted from this meeting. As a long-time businessman and established executive, the meeting itself wasn't the issue. But the Feds had been sniffing around and trying to turn some of his people. Since most of his businesses weren't exactly "public friendly", this was something he couldn't have. The extra time and man hours to make sure his house stayed clean of rats and to ensure nothing actionable could be obtained by any righteous crusaders or ladder climbers at a three-letter agency, had left James exhausted. Add on an Executive Quarterly that got pushed back to a Friday afternoon, and you can imagine his state of mind.

Donovan West, James' Director of Finance, gratefully sat down and released a nervous breath. Like all the other executives around the table, he was aware of the near-murderous exhaustion his boss was facing. He felt relieved that his report had indicated success and growth over a potentially troublesome period.

"Donovan, no need to be so scared. Business is important but I have been around the block enough to know that there are down times. As long as we keep the general trend going up, occasional setbacks can help promote stronger resilience and greater success in the long run," James smiled and tried to reassure Donovan.

Donovan was the newest member of James' executive team. Having worked for James for five years now, Donovan had no doubt about the sincerity of his words. The massive internationally reaching business James built is a direct result of his cunning and ruthless nature, but also his ability to inspire loyalty in his subordinates. He was straightforward, kind but firm, and sincere with those he counted as his own. But the one thing James Anderson could not tolerate was betrayal. The results...fear-inspiring didn't even begin to describe his methods.

With the assurance, Donovan's slightly pale face regained some color as a round of chuckles resounded around the table.

"Shit Donny, you shouldn't be afraid of Jaimee, you should be afraid of me for reporting my expenditures to him," a tall black-haired woman joked.

Dr. Natalia Song was born in China but grew up in the States. She studied biology and chemistry and developed a love for pharmaceutical research. Her genius skyrocketed James' business to absurd financial heights and her twisted mind and personality was very compatible with James. Like many of the others present, Natalia and James' relationship was like that of friends and colleagues as opposed to a traditional employer-employee relationship.

Her beauty didn't hurt either. Though she never wore makeup, lazily lounged around, wore ill-fitting clothes under her lab coat and her general disregard for status, everyone could tell she was a beauty. Her light and fair skin, silky black hair, delicate facial features, slender and elegant figure, paired delightfully with her surprisingly six-foot-tall height. And if one looked at the other women that sat around the table, it would be easy to tell that James admired women who exhibited talent and skill in some discipline, but also exhibited some form of charm or beauty that was only heightened by their minds and skills.

"Sorry Dr. Song. But you know I can't keep anything from Mr. Anderson," Donovan smiled sheepishly with his reply.

"Hm, whatever," Natalia snorted as she turned her head away in feigned anger.

"Come now Nat, you know that he wasn't being malicious. And we all know that you approve all your big costs before spending any money," James placated the pouting Dr. Song. This was a normal sight for everyone in the room.

"At least he apologized," she said without turning her head back.

"Yep, he might not be a genius like you, but he is smart enough to not draw your anger intentionally," James laughed off. This set off everyone else's laughter too. No one, including Donovan, felt slighted. Natalia was indeed a genius and made all the accomplished executives that worked with her feel like they couldn't be called smart when compared to her.

After quieting down, everyone looked back at James.

"If there is nothing else we can adj-" *knock* *knock*. James was interrupted by a knock on the door. James nodded at his head of security, Andrei, who stood up and went out to investigate. It took only a few moments before Andrei returned to James' side and whispered into his ear. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as a sharp glint flashed past James' eyes.

"Let him in," James said.

Silence overtook the executive office as a pair of double doors opened to let a dark skinned man in with a laptop. The man was imposing at 6'2 with lean muscle over a large frame. Or at least, he would have been more imposing if it wasn't for the big grin on his face, cargo shorts, and Batman graphic tee he was wearing.

"Hey boss!" Wayne shouted as he strode quickly toward James' position at the head of the table.

"Wayne, I told you not to call me boss," James said with a sigh.

"Right, sorry boss!" Wayne said, his grin widening.

"Wayne. It is almost 5pm and it has been a long day. If it isn't important, I'll string you up."

"Boss! How can you say that? I'm the future black Batman! How could youS bring yourself to do such a thing to me?" Wayne asked aghast.

James closed his eyes and let out a long breath while massaging his temple. Wayne and Natalia are like two peas in a pod. Both were geniuses in their own field but eccentric in their own ways.

Wayne grew up in a poor home in New York and his hero growing up was Batman. His goal in life was to be like Bruce Wayne. Get rich and spend his money helping poor communities and fighting crime outside the law. While in school under a scholarship, he became a hacking prodigy and worked out hard for his muscular physique. Instead of putting on a suit and roaming the streets, he realized that he enjoyed using his hacking abilities as his mask. But his eccentric behavior kept getting him fired. Ironically enough, he found employment in a crime organization as his eventual home, under the agreement that he wouldn't use his hacking skills to hurt low- and middle-income people, or rich people that used their money to actually help communities.

"Wayne."

Just calling his name was enough to turn the big muscular man into a shivering mess.

"A-a-Ana. I didn't see you there," Wayne responded shakily.

The woman who spoke, Ana, reclined lazily in her seat. Her eyes flicked to Wayne and he felt as if a reaper had come to claim his life, his breath stopping under her gaze. After holding his gaze for a second, she looked away and Wayne felt like he could breathe again.

Ana and Andrei were orphaned in Eastern Europe at a young age. They lived hard lives for many years and fought in gruesome battlefields many didn't know existed. After being found by James, Andrei became his head of security. 6'1, light short-cropped hair, hard eyes, and a mountain of scars and muscle like a vicious bear, Andrei filled the role perfectly. He looked like a man that had survived war and could not be crossed lightly. Many assassination attempts were crushed under his watch and people killed by his hands under James' order. Him and the men directly under him could even operate on equal footing with most special operations units.

Ana was different from her brother. If Andrei is like a bear, Ana is like a spectral leopard. She carried the essence of death on her as if she was the reaper incarnate. The bodies she left in her wake and the fear she inspired was at a level that earned her the title "Goddess of Death" in many international circles. Her fierce determination, lethal skills, primal instincts, and vicious mind earned her the position of Chief Auditor in James' organization. She was the looming sword that menaced over everyone's head if they betrayed James.

But for all her thorns and aloofness, she was a beautiful rose. 5'4, petite, short blonde hair, sapphire eyes, tight toned muscles, and surprisingly smooth and fair skin despite her life experiences, she is easily considered a knockout despite her smaller A-Cup breasts.

"Wayne," James called.

"Yes! Yes, boss! Ahem, like I wanted to say, I found a problem in our accounting programs," Wayne began, looking away from Ana. Donovan's face drained instantly of blood. "Someone tried to pull an Office Space on us and put the tiniest fractions of transactions into a separate account, but it has a limiter to keep the overall dollar amount small to avoid attention. Since I designed the program, I was able to uncover the changes in the algorithms. I also found a trojan. I have already quarantined it and made sure that nothing sensitive has been taken or altered. I haven't found out who did it yet, but I know it wasn't Donovan or anyone in this room. I started checking everyone at the top first, with any access or connection to the systems. Now, I have a program that is running against all the employees with access to the company networks, systems, or accounts. It's actually really interesting, you see-"

"Enough. When you find out who did it, immediately notify Ana. This doesn't leave this room. We are done here."

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6 Hours Later

In a small home suburban home, James sat on a couch in the living room. It was the only thing undamaged in the room. Three stoic bodyguards and a pale Donovan stood at the opposite end of the room with Andrei and Ana standing behind James. In the middle of the ransacked living room, a bruised and bloodied man lay panting on the floor in his underwear. As the man coughed and spat up blood, James was reading off a tablet.

"Jonathan Lake. 53. 5'7. 183lbs. Youngest of two boys. Graduated college with a major in forensic accounting at 26. Married nine years later at 35 to a 20-year-old. Two children, both daughters, one 20, married, and preparing for the bar in California, and the other 18 and just graduated high school with top honors and a full ride to Stanford for a business program. Daughters most run in the family, you have three nieces that are all married, two of them with children of their own and one with a child on the way. Both your parents passed away in a car accident about two years ago. You started working for me ten years ago and six years ago you were promoted to the manager of your department. I'm sure there is a lot of other useless information in here, including the reason you decided to steal from me and spy on me. But I would rather hear that from you. So, what do you have to say?" James said while scrolling on the tablet.

It took several minutes for Jonathan to finish spitting out blood and catch his breath. He crawled up weakly to his knees, swaying unsteadily. If it wasn't for a look from Andrei, he would have grabbed James' feet as he sobbed.

"*Cough Cough* Mr. *Cough* Anderson. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Please, *Cough Cough* please forgive me!" he cried.

James nodded at one of the bodyguards and he came forward and kicked Jonathan hard.

"Don't lie Jonathan. Bad things happen when you lie. It wasn't an accident that you stole money and tried to steal information from me. It wasn't an accident that you uploaded a virus to my network or altered company software. So, one more time. What do you have to say? Why did you do this?" James spoke slowly while Jonathan coughed out more blood.

But Jonathan kept saying sorry and asking for forgiveness.

"Bring them in," James said disappointingly. Maybe he is too nice. People think that just some crying and begging will convince him to let everything go.

With that command, two more guards dragged in Jonathan's wife and youngest daughter. Jonathan's breathe caught in his throat as James appraised the two women brought into the room.

Jonathan's wife, Fiona, was lovely. 5'3, in shape, medium length dark brown hair, clear green eyes, fair skin, C-Cup breasts, and a proportionate ass. For a woman who married young and with two adult children, she looked great. Next to her daughter, she looked more like an older sister than a mother.

The daughter, Violet, was something special too. She was almost exactly like a younger version of her mother with a short dark brown pixie cut, B-Cup breasts and a fine ass. The difference though, her eyes. Just like her name, she had violet eyes. A beautiful and alluringly rare mutation.

"I'm a little surprised Jon. I didn't look at the pictures because I assumed your wife that married a man 15 years older than her wouldn't be very pretty. But this is perfect. You don't want to talk, so I will take your wife and daughter and have them serve guests at one of our cheaper establishments overseas after torturing them for a while. Sound good? Don't worry, we won't leave any scars. That would damage the merchandise," James said while watching the two helpless women who shivered uncontrollably. Hearing that would be tortured and trafficked, tears streamed down their cheeks, but they were too scared to make any noise.

"No, no, I'll talk! It was debt. I had a huge debt from gambling. I was trying to pay it off, but they wouldn't let me pay it slowly and wanted everything at once. I sold our old home that was nicer and our cars and got loans, but I couldn't pay off everything. They demanded the money, or they would kill my family! I still couldn't get the money but thought maybe I could borrow enough through altering the program that I could payback later. But the creditors found out who I worked for and didn't want money anymore. They wanted me to upload the virus. I had already got the money and tried to get them to take it but they wouldn't. It was the virus or my family. So, I uploaded the virus. I'm sorry Mr. Anderson! It was a mistake; it won't happen again." Jonathan rushed to speak out, suppressing his coughing. After seeing his wife and daughter dragged out and threatening to be sold, it was like someone injected adrenaline right into this blood.

"Gambling debts. That's disappointing Jon," James shook his head. "We have help and services set in place for when things like this happen. Including addiction help and pay deductions for money advanced. It is a concern that you went too far with gambling to jeopardize your family. But the problem I have is not that you care more about gambling than your family, but that you implicated my business and my people with your bad decisions because of your pride."

"I'm sorry Mr. Anderson. Please, it won't happen again. I'll tell you who they are and how to find them. Just please, don't hurt my family."

Jonathan was at his lowest. Every word of James' was true. He loved gambling but cost his family their lives because he was addicted and too proud to get help. By this point, he was weeping and begging.

"You're right, this won't happen again. And you will tell my head of security everything he wants to know. But you must be punished. Like I said before, your lovely wife and daughter are getting shipped off to take men in the deepest filthiest hole I can find. Don't worry, they can come back after your debt has been paid. But since they will be offered cheaply for the lowest amount, and need to be broken first, it may take a while. Or not, they are really beautiful. Maybe after taking one or two-thousand men each they will be back." James spoke out unemotionally. It was one of his favorite moments. Watching the spark of hope in the eyes of people like Jon get extinguished and drown in despair.

Jon was so shocked and overwhelmed that he didn't know how to react. His life was ruined, and his wife and daughter were about to be beaten, raped, and sold as prostitutes for years but there was nothing he could do.

Amidst his shock, a weak voice pierced through his mind.

"M-mr. Mr. Anderson. C-can, I p-pay the debt myself? C-can, I sell myself to you for my parents' freedom?"

Violet Lake stuttered as she spoke. Tears were in her eyes, but she tried to struggle out of her captor's hands and approach James. With a wave of his hand, James indicated for the guard to let her go. Released, Violet unsteadily walked before James and knelt on both knees just like her father. In her tiny white nightie, she looked especially delicate as she shivered from the cold or the fear coursing through her.

"Mr. Anderson, please. You can do anything you want to me. I'll willingly sell myself to you. Please. Let my mom and dad go." Violet begged James.

James looked down at her and watched her intently. For a delicate flower like her to find the strength to willingly submit herself to being raped and abused for her family's sake takes a lot of courage. In addition to her beauty, James admired her spirit. It seemed worth testing her at least. At worst, he would get some entertainment.

"It isn't impossible. Would you like to prove your determination?" James asked with a smile.

Violet looked at the man and felt fear rampage in her to the point she felt sick to her stomach. But she gritted her teeth and forced herself to nod her head.

"Yes, Mr. Anderson. Whatever you want," she spoke solemnly.

"No! Violet don't do this! Baby, don't!" Jon suddenly shouted and lounged towards James' feet.

Almost as if it was magic, Ana appeared between Jon and James and held a gun to his head. Jon's heart almost stopped as the cold metal touched his sweat covered skin and Fiona shrieked but was restrained by the guard watching over her.

"Not a smart move Jon. Your daughter is courageously sacrificing herself for you and your wife. Instead of being grateful, you try to stop her from saving the lives of your entire family. So, we will try this again. But if you interrupt, Ana will put a bullet through your head, and I will take your wife and daughter permanently until they die of old age or abuse. Understand?" James said, silencing Jon and his wife.

Too afraid to speak, Jon could only weakly nod his several times.

"At least you aren't completely stupid. Now, Violet. I have some questions and you will answer them honestly. I won't try to fact check you, but if I even think for a moment that you aren't being completely truthful...you can imagine the consequences. Answer how you see fit," James said as he returned his gaze to the small Violet.

"Y-yes sir," Violet said, eyes downcast.

"Do you know who I am?" James asked.

"No sir. My father called you Mr. Anderson and he works-worked-for you," Violet responded.

"Do you know what your father does for me?" James asked the next question without a pause.

"No sir. I know my father does something that has to do with accounting, but I have never been interested about his job and he has never tried to tell me about his job or the people he works with," Violet responded.

"Good. Don't call me sir," James commanded.

Violet just nodded.

"Do you know what selling yourself to me means?" James moved on.

"It means I will do whatever you tell me to do. I will...belong to you," Violet struggled with the last bit and her voice broke.

"Very good Violet," James was a little impressed. "Tell me again, who will you belong to?"