writing_shadows

He sits there in the gloomy room, the desk lamp glaring harshly on his ledger as he looks over the last weeks accounts, chewing subconsciously on the lid of the biro as he takes notes. It’s all well and good paying someone else to manage accounts for you, but without regular review and assessment there is no way to spot the trends and maximise potential.

Of course the numbers themselves mean little, another car perhaps, some more artwork, just little numbers that trickle in and out of multiple bank accounts in order to remain as anonymous as possible, their significance has waned over the years and he is far more interested in the other ledger, the one he maintains by hand.

Disappointed with the drop in takings, he pushes the ledger into his out-tray, and once again reminds himself he needs to hire a secretary, if only so he has someone to do the increasingly tedious filing. If he allowed it to it would easily dominate his evenings, instead he allows it to pile up in a drawer, sure that tomorrow he will find someone to sort it all out for him.

Instead, he opens the hidden drawer in his desk, and pulls out a large leather bound book, taking a moment to run his fingers over the cover, enjoying the texture, inhaling the now fading scent.

Everything has a value, but not every value is purely financial, he prides himself on his ability to pick wise investments and to pick them up at a steal, before their value skyrockets, but it’s so much harder when it’s a person not an object. He had dabbled a little with musicians, but had never managed to profit from them, being forced to cut his losses and cast them aside when their attempts to hit even the small time had flopped, never even having a hint of the big time.

Now however, in one month, he had found himself making an investment in three different “people”, they couldn’t be more different if they tried, and their reasons for their potential value were all unique.

A child, technically older than he appeared, but with the innocence and brutal honesty that only a child can have, if she could be developed to have the wisdom of the years she’d actually lived, combined with her unique talents, she could turn out to be a very worthy investment. If she failed to grow, he’d heard that they fetch a high price at that age in certain markets.

A fire, yet to discover whether a phoenix will rise from it, or it will burn the world down around him. A risky gamble perhaps in some respects, but an interesting one. Given the chance to start a new life under his rule, his guidance, his watchful eye, a chance to shun the establishment and stand on two new feet, which he will of course ensure were in the very latest Gucci shoes. If nothing else, she would make a good pet, but with a little shaping she could become almost as divine as him.

And last... the peach. He had been willing to be far more manipulative and devious than it had proved necessary to acquire this one, and for now it was only a partial share he held, but soon it would be a controlling share. The first business decision he’d made with personal feelings in several years, but business was only the first step. Whether he hired her because she’d actually be useful within his organisation or because it was a way of guaranteeing improved access he couldn’t be sure, but she WOULD be useful. Perhaps more of an onion than a peach, but a peach was a far more pleasant metaphor to think of. There was something, unspoken, about her that had intrigued him from the time he first saw her in action and he was determined to explore and understand it in all its connotations, a truly fascinating project, wrapped up in a very pleasant package.

It had been a busy and expensive few months, re-establishing himself carefully as the dismissable blood addled slut in some circles, and the man who could get any answer you’d be willing to pay for in others, but slowly it was paying off, and more importantly... at least he wasn’t BORED any more.