All Chapters of Mastering Charlotte: Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

Klempner"Sir, she's back.""Jennifer?""Yes, sir. She's in the Haswell Building. She was sighted at one of the penthouse windows."Klempner's face is sour. "You did tell me, Bech, that we were keeping a close eye on those offices. How does she come to be in there and we didn't see her arrive?""I don't know yet. I'm trying to find out.... Sir, following your instructions, I have been trying to learn who Elizabeth Haswell is, or more accurately, who she was before she married....""And?""Sir, for the wife of such a prominent figure, there is astonishingly little information about her. It's as though she only came into existence a couple of years ago."Klempner's head tilts. "I'm listening.""There is almost nothing in the papers. I had assumed, wrongly as it turns out, that the wedding would have been a high-profile society event. In fact, it was very low key, and I only managed to track any information at all from Central Records, which of course provided the date a

JamesDespite my hopes, the situation between Michael and Charlotte has not improved. The only people who can really hurt you, are those you love the most....Michael sits on the couch, pretending to watch old movies. Charlotte is reading, but she's standing up to do it. I sit with my laptop, trying to muster up the will to do some work, but finding myself constantly distracted by the cool looks the other two award each other.There's a shudder and a rumble, as though of distant thunder or crashing traffic. We all look up and around."What the hell was that?" I mutter.Trouble?I meet eyes with Michael and as one we stand to look out and down. There's nothing unusual to be seen, but perhaps there shouldn't be. The noise sounded - felt - internal to the building.Charlotte has snapped open her laptop and is busily mousing and clicking....What's she doing?Her face heats as she sees me looking. "Um, the security cameras...." She tenses again.She shouldn't be look

James"Get back. Get back...." Police push the moronic reporter back to a safe distance.Straining my vision to pick out the detail, way up, I see a doll-sized figure being winched away from the rooftop and into one of the choppers. A minute later, and another follows.Is that them?Is she safe?The clenching in my gut, visceral and nauseous, begs that it be so, but from so far away, I simply cannot be sure it was Beth and my Green-Eyes I have seen. My breathing is short and shallow. Deliberately, I take a couple of deep breaths, filling my lungs, trying to clear my head and the smog around my thinking.The choppers are sweeping away across the City. As I watch them, something else dawns on me. Something missing.Where are they all?It's an office building. There should be people leaning out of windows. Crying for help. Waving arms. Screaming. There is no-oneIn the background, I hear the reporter again.".... In the wake of what is rumoured to be a terrorist att

The day has been marvellous. After sleeping off the reception meal, the farm courtyard has been cleared for partying. Dancer, Charlie and Maggie hang their heads over stable doors, apparently enjoying the music. Anyone who can handle an instrument has been pulled in to perform, all taking turns so that everyone has a chance to enjoy the celebration, the singing and the dancing.Tables and trestles are set up under the cover of barns in case of rain, but the May weather is perfect. A feast is laid out, everything grown or made on the farm, or brought in by wedding guests for all to share. The table groans under succulent roast joints, chicken, deviled eggs, three different kinds of salads, homemade bread from a dozen different well-wishers, cakes and puddings and trifles. On another table is wine, bought in and home-brewed, lemonade, and someone has provided a canteen-sized water-boiler for tea and coffee.No-one will go hungry or thirsty tonight.The big chestnut tree on the corn

James"Wait here. Listen in."He nods unhappily.Charlotte's there, staring out of the window. For several days she would only wear jeans, covering her bruises I think, embarrassed by them. Now, largely healed, she wears a simple skirt and a woollen top against the winter.Although she is physically recovered, her cuts and bruises healed, emotionally the wounds are showing. Her sheer unhappiness gnaws at me.They love each other....They want each other…Yet somehow, they can't speak....Enough already...."Charlotte."She doesn't move, continuing her vigil. "Master?"Dominate...."I expect you to look at me when I address you."Her shoulders shrink in as she turns, seemingly facing me, but not meeting my eye. "Sorry, Master."And I don't speak. I wait.After a few seconds, she looks up, takes in my appearance, and now I don't meet her eye, instead straightening my jacket and shirt sleeves, adjusting my cuffs, before looking up to be sure I have her attent