Hypergeniture – Book 1 – part 6 by ScrappyPaperDoodler
Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who has engaged with this story already! Your comments, feedback, favourites and ratings are wonderful and most welcome. Please enjoy this next part and leave a 5-star rating if you are so inclined, and let me know what you think!
I decided to merge the last two parts into this one. So, this is the end of book one. Book two will take several months. I have a beginning and an end written, but I don’t want to rush all the stuff in the middle. This part is light on the sex, so bare that in mind when you start what I hope will be a rewarding journey! Trust me to carry it through to the end, and enjoy… It gets emotional.
All sexual activity is between characters that are 18 or older. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real persons, places or events is purely coincidental. The below is not intended to serve as a template for real life sexual encounters or relationships, nor should it be regarded as such. Stay safe, happy and healthy! 🙂
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54 • Wedding Plans
The men loaded into their trucks — fifty of them — carrying rifles and ammunition. Some had anti-tank weapons, others carried only machetes or handmade spears. They were a rag-tag group put together for one very specific mission.
Their task was to kill Oliver Orwell.
• • •
One week earlier…
It was a disaster…
A total, unmitigated disaster! Since Tecla ‘popped the question’ we’d been in a total love-drunk daze. Organising a perfect wedding became an obsession for everyone involved. Some had to be won over first… Still, everyone eventually became swept up in the planning.
Now, it had all gone wrong.
Everything started two days before the 14th of February — roughly 48 hours until our planned Valentine’s Day nuptials. The twins’ friend, Amanda, had been jerking us around. She kept changing the date of her arrival, citing cheer squad commitments. This naturally left the girls disappointed, but they had wedding plans to keep them busy. Meanwhile, I found myself on the phone with a deeply concerned cousin.
“This is delusional, Olly,” Natasha declared with something resembling pity in her voice.
“Let me get this straight: you approve of us having sex, but not of a sham wedding?”
“How serious are you about this?” she asked. “Because you know you can’t really marry them, right? It’s taking things too far…”
I shook my head, disheartened by the lack of support from my friend and family member. Right then, I could’ve made an argument and probably convinced her, but the truth is that I had my own doubts.
A little rebellion against society’s rules was one thing… Marriage, on the other hand, seemed to be the peak of conformity.
I feared our decision, no matter how lighthearted, would make us pretend to be husband and wives. Assuming those roles introduced the possibility of ‘divorce’ and a range of other marital problems. At the same time, we could never have kids.
There were countless rules we’d break and lines we’d cross, but there were still limits.
My cousin had a point. Her worrying came as a result of her friendship, not in spite of it. She was a nurturing and caring person, and she wanted the best for me (and for the girls). This meant there was merit in listening to her and, thankfully, she triggered something in my brain.
Excitedly, a little manic spark set my mind alight and I explained the details to Natasha. She listened closely and, with each instruction I gave, she played the role of loyal assistant.
Eventually, I managed to win her approval as she realised her doubts about my sanity were unfounded.
“That’s better,” she exhaled, having recorded all my plans in a note. “This sounds good… Romantic, clever… Very true to who you are and your relationship.”
I smiled appreciatively.
Of course, I couldn’t blame Natasha for worrying. Her first instinct as someone with a nurturing spirit was to show concern. Add her recovery from substance abuse, and you’re left with an individual primed for anxiety. After all, it’s only after we take care of ourselves that we can take care of others.
A lesson I sadly learnt far too late in life…
“How’s my mother doing?” I asked, having finished outlining my plans.
Natasha seemed to hesitate, but not because she had bad news. Instead, she worried that things might be going a little too well where Eve was concerned.
“I’ve never seen her happier,” she said. “They’ve started some procedures already and she actually looks… Better.”
“How could she?” I questioned. “My mother has many shortcomings, but her looks were never in doubt.”
“I know… But she seems more confident, like… I don’t know,” Natasha sighed. “Have you heard of bimbos?”
I raised an eyebrow, but just as I was about to ask for some explanation, a business matter tore me away from my call with Tash. We said goodbye and I turned to Alicia.
I’d been sitting in the casino proper, surrounded by other gamblers, cocktail waitresses and flashing lights. When I first told Skylar I wanted to go downstairs to gamble, she asked if she should book a high-roller table, but my plans weren’t quite so grand.
Earlier that day, my bodyguard passed me a card loaded with $100 and I picked the flashiest slot machine I could find. Inserting the card, the thing lit up like a Christmas tree and it wasn’t long before the flashing lights turned against my favour. After ten minutes, the hundred was gone and I was left with nothing but a big fat smile.
I’d been too lucky recently. This was karmic balance.
There had been no one around me, which was certainly a consequence of the handful of bodyguards flanking me. Alicia approached, handing over a folio filled with documents for me to sign, but I could see plain work wasn’t the only thing on her mind.
“Hey, sir.”
“Oliver…”
“Mr Orwell.”
I smiled. “How are you, Alicia?”
Exhaling deeply, I could tell that I was about to get some bad news. Alicia steeled herself, like she was expecting me to get angry (even though she must’ve known that I could never get angry at her).
“There’s been an incident,” she explained.
“Again? Where this time?”
“Australia, sir. We found a listening post close to the house; designed to surveil our security measures and possibly plan an assault.”
“Fuck.”
“I’ve already made arrangements for Natasha and your mother to move again. I’m thinking India… It makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“I think so…”
I nodded. “Alright, I trust you.”
Heartened by my words, Alicia took a minute to breathe as I signed the documents she’d brought. This was only the latest in a line of potential security breaches and the pressure was getting to the both of us. All we could do was focus on controlling the risk, since our people seemed no closer to eliminating it.
The papers in my possession weren’t anything major. There were a few preliminary arrangements for Elle’s so-called tech business — a porn studio in disguise, aimed at producing ‘old school’ content using innovative data-driven techniques. It would be invaluable in the long-run with high cash-flow, limited regulatory oversight, and the ability to collect massive amounts of data on users.
Tecla also mentioned wanting to start a business of her own, but never got around to putting any ideas on paper. I would happily make it happen for her if she did the work, but I had a feeling her talents lied elsewhere.
After I was done signing the documents, I slipped an envelope into the folio. It was a letter for my sisters, to be added to my will in the event of something happening to me.
I turned back to Alicia. “So, how are you?”
“Busy, busy, busy,” my chief of staff exhaled. “The wedding is only adding to my already packed schedule, but I won’t complain.”
“What’s your opinion on the whole thing?”
My advisor seemed to ponder her words. “It’s… Adorably sweet.”
“Thanks. It’s good to know we’re not completely insane — that it makes sense — but I’m still planning on making a few adjustments.”
Alicia very nearly rolled her eyes; clearly not excited by the prospect of last-minute changes to the plans. The look on her face actually made me smile. It showed she was human and that her loyalty came with limits. I had no doubt she would keep me in check if I started doing anything crazy, which brought me a lot of comfort. Especially given recent events.
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you the marrying type?”
“Oh, no…” my companion sighed, sucking in her lips with sombreness.
I nodded, having expected the answer, but keen to learn more. “Do you like guys or gals?”
“Guys,” Alicia answered, showing the beginnings of a smile.
“Blonde or brunette?”
My baby-faced but tough-as-nails companion giggled, becoming as girly as I’d ever seen her for the briefest of moments. “I like guys with dark hair and scruffy beards,” she declared, equal parts shy and sly as she did.
As my mouth stretched into a face-hurting smile, I felt my stubble and the heat of blushing cheeks. “What about money? Is that something you look for in a potential spouse?”
“Oh, definitely,” Alicia teased. “He needs to be the fifth or sixth-richest guy on the planet, give or take. Oh, and he should be really close with his family because I don’t have one of my own… Or, I didn’t until recently.”
For a minute, we enjoyed the fun and shared easy laughter along with carefree joy. I knew Alicia would always be at my side. But, one day, I would want her to be more than just another member of staff…
I would want her to be a partner.
Being a strategist at heart, and a hopeless romantic through and through, I wondered then and there if there was a way for everything to fit together.
“What if you could have a relationship — a partnership — without sex? One where you can hold someone’s hand, grow old with them–”
“Sex doesn’t frighten me, sir,” Alicia rebutted, suddenly regaining her cool exterior. “You know things happened when I was… You know?”
“I don’t know the details, but I can imagine…”
Alicia cleared her throat. “Well, it doesn’t define me. Sex doesn’t scare me because of it. Intimacy doesn’t scare me, nor does affection…”