Okay don't be mad at the dictator... she's making strides.
Chapter 11
The heavy silence of the palace at night was something Trina Vega had grown accustomed to, but it still unnerved her. The grandeur of the building, with its towering ceilings and cold marble floors, felt oppressive, especially when she was sneaking through its labyrinthine halls. The guards had become familiar with her presence, but tonight, she couldn't afford to be seen.
She moved quickly and quietly, keeping close to the shadows as she made her way toward her sister's private chambers. Tori might be the dictator of Yerba now, but Trina knew that power in this place was never absolute. It was fragile, precariously balanced on the whims of those who lurked in the background—men who had once controlled their father and now believed they could do the same to Tori.
Trina had come to relay the latest news she'd heard from the people outside these walls. Ever since Tori had started implementing her bold policies, there had been an undercurrent of unrest—not from the public, but from the regime's inner circle. And tonight, as she approached a dimly lit corridor near Tori's quarters, Trina's instincts told her to pause.
Voices. Low and urgent. She couldn't see the speakers, but she recognized them—high-ranking officials who had served under her father, now supposedly loyal to Tori. Trina pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding in her chest as she strained to hear their conversation.
"She's becoming a liability," one voice grumbled, thick with frustration. It was General Ortiz, a man who had been a shadowy figure of power during her father's reign. "We thought she'd be easy to control, but she's completely unpredictable. Every day she's enacting some new law, freeing dissidents, and dismantling everything we built."
"Exactly," another voice replied, colder and sharper. Trina recognized it as Minister Ramirez, the regime's enforcer. "The immorality law's repeal was bad enough, but the mass release of prisoners? She's undermining our authority. The people are starting to believe she's on their side."
"She is a Vega," Ortiz spat, "but not like her father. She's... dangerous. We can't keep up with her. One minute she's playing the part of the brutal dictator, torturing and imprisoning those who oppose her, and the next she's a liberator, undoing years of our work. The uncertainty is causing chaos among the ranks."
Ramirez's tone turned darker. "We've lost control, Ortiz. And it's only a matter of time before the people realize it too. We need to find a way to rein her in—or remove her."
Trina's blood ran cold. Remove her? The implication was clear, and it terrified her. She had to warn Tori, had to get her out of here before these men made their move.
As she pressed herself further against the wall, hoping to remain unnoticed, the conversation continued.
"The problem," Ortiz said with a sneer, "is that we underestimated her. She was supposed to be like her father—easily manipulated, eager for power but not strong enough to wield it without our guidance. But she's proving to be something else entirely."
"A mistake we can't afford to let stand," Ramirez said. "We should have dealt with her when we had the chance. Just like her father."
Trina felt her breath catch in her throat. So, it was true. They had murdered their father. It wasn't just a convenient story to cover up a natural death—it was a cold, calculated act to maintain control.
The two men fell silent, as if considering their next steps. Trina knew she had to move now, before they noticed her presence. She carefully stepped back, retreating down the hallway toward Tori's chambers. Her heart pounded with fear and urgency, but she kept her movements controlled, measured.
She had to warn Tori. But more than that, they needed a plan—a way to outmaneuver these men who believed they could control everything, including the lives of the Vega sisters.
Reaching Tori's quarters, Trina slipped inside without knocking, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The room was dimly lit, with the faint glow of a single lamp illuminating Tori, who was seated at her desk, reading through a stack of reports. She looked up, startled by Trina's sudden entrance.
"Trina?" Tori asked, concern knitting her brow. "What's wrong?"
Trina rushed over, grabbing Tori's hands. "We're in danger, Tori. I just overheard Ortiz and Ramirez talking. They're furious. They can't control you, and they're planning to do something about it."
Tori's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing. "What did they say?"
Trina took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "They're realizing you're not their puppet. You've been freeing dissidents, repealing their laws, and now they're starting to see you as a threat. They killed Dad, Tori. They're capable of anything."
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room as Tori absorbed the weight of Trina's words. Then, with a resolve that sent a shiver down Trina's spine, Tori stood up, her posture straightening as she slipped into the role she had been forced to play.
"They think they can control me," Tori said, her voice low and deadly, "but they have no idea who they're dealing with."
Trina squeezed her sister's hands tighter. "We need to get you out of here, Tori. You can't stay. They're dangerous, and we can't fight them from the inside."
Tori shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving, Trina. Not yet. But you— you need to get out. You and the kids. We'll use my trip to Sweden as cover. We'll get you on the plane, and once we're out of Yerba's airspace, we'll figure out our next move."
Trina's eyes welled up with tears. "I can't leave you here alone, Tori. I won't."
Tori's grip on her sister's hands tightened. "You have to, Trina. I need to know you're safe so I can focus on what needs to be done here. Once you're out of their reach, I'll find a way to finish what we've started."
Just as they began to discuss the details of the plan, the door to the chamber creaked open. Both sisters froze, their eyes darting to the entrance, but it was only Aneka, Tori's new night steward, entering for her nightly duties.
"Chancellor," Aneka greeted softly, her eyes flicking between the two sisters, sensing the tension in the room. "I've come to help you settle for the night."
Tori nodded, her voice calm and controlled as she responded. "Thank you, Aneka. "
Aneka bowed, her movements quiet and efficient as she placed the clothing she carried down and exited the room, leaving the sisters alone once more.
As soon as the door closed, Trina turned back to Tori, her voice trembling with emotion. "Promise me you'll be careful, Tori. Don't let them get to you."
Tori pulled Trina into a tight embrace, holding her close as if to transfer some of her own strength to her sister. "I promise, Trina. But for now, we need to focus on getting you and the kids out safely. Once you're gone, I'll deal with Ortiz and Ramirez."
The sisters held each other for a long moment, drawing comfort and courage from their bond.
Tori's decision to hire Aneka as her personal steward came swiftly after their encounter at the speakeasy. It was a move born of necessity and desire, an attempt to maintain control while fulfilling her own needs. Aneka's presence was a constant reminder of the clandestine world Tori had once navigated and, now, had re-entered with a different sense of purpose.
Aneka's role was clear: she was to be at Tori's side during the evenings, and their relationship extended into the personal hours of the night. This arrangement offered Tori a sense of security and intimacy she had craved, while ensuring discretion. The contract was simple but firm—Aneka was not to leave Tori's side during her work hours and personal time, which usually began in the evening and extended into the early hours of the morning.
Sheema, another trusted aide, took over in the mornings. Sheema's duties included tasting Tori's food, ensuring that it was safe and prepared to her standards. She was also responsible for dressing Tori, and the transition between the shifts often involved a delicate dance. On occasion, when the mornings were still quiet and Aneka was still in bed with Tori, Sheema would look the other way.
This arrangement was not without its risks. Tori had made her expectations very clear. Any breach of discretion would be met with severe consequences, and Sheema knew well enough to comply without question. Tori's threats were not empty; she had a reputation for ruthless efficiency when it came to protecting her privacy and position.
The arrangement worked smoothly. Aneka's role provided Tori with not just the companionship she desired but also the security she needed. Sheema, aware of the importance of maintaining order and discretion, fulfilled her duties with professionalism, keeping any potential gossip or rumors at bay.
The morning of the Summit,Tori woke up naked in her opulent bed, next to Aneka, who was kissing her bare skin, making her way down her body with a slow and deliberate hunger. Tori let out a low moan as Aneka's lips found her most sensitive spots, her tongue darting out to taste and tease.
Just then, the door opened and Sheema entered, carrying a tray of food. She glanced at the two of them, her eyes lingering for a moment on Tori's bare breasts and Aneka's head between her legs. But Sheema was a professional, and she quickly turned to finish uncovering the food.
"Don't stop," Tori commanded Aneka, her voice husky with desire. Aneka obeyed, her tongue continuing its delicious torture. Tori watched as Sheema began to taste the food on the tray, her own pleasure building with each lick and nibble.
Finally, Tori could take no more. With a cry, she came hard, her body shaking with the force of her climax. Aneka kissed her softly, a satisfied smile on her face. Then she slid out of bed, making her way to the bathroom to clean up.
Sheema approached the bed, all food tasted. "You have an hour to get ready, Chancellor," she said quietly. "You and Aneka are leaving for Europe this afternoon for the summit." Sheema reminded her, as she helped Tori into the bath.
"I know, I know," Tori replied, still basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. Tori dragged herself out of bed, her limbs still weak from her activities. Sheema helped her to the table then left to draw her a bath.
Tori sat at the ornate dining table, her silk robe draped around her, its delicate sheen contrasting with the morning's chill. The breakfast spread before her was as opulent as it was nourishing, but her mind was elsewhere. She dialed Trina's number, her fingers deftly moving over the phone's screen.
"Trina, are you and the kids ready?" Tori's voice was steady, though a trace of concern lingered in her tone.
From the other end, Trina's voice was a whisper, a mixture of relief and apprehension. "We're almost set. But Tori, are you sure about this? You're risking so much."
Tori's eyes flicked over to Sheema, who had just entered the room, her professional demeanor unshaken. "I've arranged for a safe house in Sweden. I stayed there during my exile; it's secure. It won't be forever, just until things settle down."
As she spoke, Sheema approached with a practiced, calm demeanor. "The bath is ready, Chancellor."
Tori nodded and ended the call, her gaze lingering on her phone before she tucked it away. She finished the last bite of her breakfast, her mind still preoccupied with the imminent reunion with Jade. There was a flutter of nervous excitement in her chest. Jade was untouchable now—married, the leader of the free world—but the thought of being in her presence again was exhilarating.
She stood, smoothing the silk of her robe, and headed towards the bathroom. The warm steam and the scent of lavender greeted her as she entered, a soothing prelude to her preparations for the day. She was eager to see Jade again, to breathe the same air, even if only for a brief moment.
For now, Tori was content to immerse herself in the fleeting moments of connection and intimacy with Jade by day and seek solace in Aneka's presence by night. The duality of her existence had become a delicate balance of longing and indulgence.