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Thread: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 7th November 2015

  1. #61

    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Awesome first chapter! Have to admit that Chlionel is a guilty pleasure of mine that I like to indulge in every now and then. But can't wait for more Chlexiness

  2. #62
    NS Senior Member Senior Member malugargula's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Quote Originally Posted by HotCrossedBunny View Post
    Malugargula: Hello. Will do, just please don't hate me once you have read it.
    I could never hate you lol
    I love your writing too much for that
    Malu

  3. #63
    NS Senior Member Senior Member malugargula's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Really great chapter
    I haven't read Chlionel for some time now but it's always interesting seing them
    Can't wait to see more
    Malu

  4. #64
    NS Senior Member Senior Member HotCrossedBunny's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    A/N: Thank-you both for the reviews.

    Chapter Two

    The sun rose high in the sky over the little town of Smallville Kansas, shining down upon the fields of yellow corn, over the picturesque farm houses and finally even daring to reach the Luthor castle. The rays sneaked in through the stained glass windows of the master bedroom, stretching across the mahogany floors to creep over the bed and bothering its inhabitants.

    Chloe groaned and threw her arm across her face. She didn’t want to wake up let alone get up; she felt awful. Every single part of her hurt. Even her hair. Realizing that sleep was an impossibly with the sun on her face, she summoned up all of her energy and rolled over away from the glare. From there, she attempted to burrow into her incredibly comfortable bed, deciding that she was coming down with the flu or something. She felt odd. Nothing felt right, even her sheets felt funny. She ignored these oddities through and automatically snuggled further over the right where it was warmer, only to get the shock of her life. She had come into contact with another living human being. In her bed.

    She jumped up, the dull ache which had plagued her before immediately intensifying to a pounding sensation which seemed so strong that she half expected the walls to vibrate from it. She opened her eyes fully in spite of the stinging from the sudden brightness. Even through the dots which floated in front of her, she recognised the figure lying next to her and knew why everything felt strange, why she felt so ill. She fought the urge to sob as memories from the previous evening came flooding back (pain being one of the most predominant), and her life crashed around her.

    “Chloe?” Lionel’s voice, rough with sleep, was accompanied by a too warm hand reaching out for her.

    She froze, unable to utter a sound.

    “Chloe darling”, he repeated, this time opening his eyes and staring up at her, the traces of sleepiness vanishing as he witnessed her expression. “What’s wrong?”

    “Nothing”, she shook her head and slipped away from him, back onto her own side of the bed, and lay back down. She pulled up the sheets to make sure that she was completely covered and turned her head as if trying to go back to sleep, as she did so, the reality of her situation bore down upon her. Examples of his wealth littered the room, the man in whose bed she lay, whose hand was gently reaching over to caress her was one of the richest and most powerful men in the United States. She fought to remain calm, or at least, to disguise as much of her panic as possible.

    He reached out to brush his hand against her stomach. “Chloe”, he whispered her name.

    Plastering the most neutral she could on her features, she turned her head towards him, “Lionel, I’m fine”. He didn't look convinced, “Really, I’m just tired”.

    He reached out to cup her face in one large, warm hand and run his thumb under one, slightly puffy, eye. She shivered and he looked at her quizzical.

    “I just don’t feel too good”, she shrugged, as if it were just one of those things , “(probably coming down after all of the excitement) and I’m a bit sore”. That was something he would but, “Well”, she didn't have to fake her blush, “very sore”.

    He gave her a smile which was equal parts smug and understanding, before stroking his hand back through her hair in a gesture which was supposed to be soothing. “Just lie back and relax, enjoy our first morning together as husband and wife. That’s what I plan on doing”, he grinned as he slid over to her only to move back a second later. He lifted the sheet up and she automatically put her arm down to keep her naked body from being revealed, although she did also look down to see what it was that had gained his attention.

    There, between them was a small but extremely obvious red stain on the white bed linen.

    “Oh”, she coloured to the roots of her hair, “I'm so sorry. Do you think that it will come out in the wash?” She had no idea how expensive those sheets were, but judging by the feel of them they probably cost a fortune.

    Lionel let out a snort of laughter, “Chloe my darling, I haven’t the faintest idea. Nor do I care”, he covered the blood and other sticky liquids with a pillow so that he could lie next to her, an arm wrapped around her waist, “and more importantly nor should you. You aren’t in that world any more. You don’t have to concern yourself with or even think about menial tasks or money or anything else that was worrying you before”, he kissed her temple. “From now on, anything you want you can have without having to think”.

    She swallowed, trying to smile as she knew she was supposed to. It was a kind offer, an amazing offer in fact, that most girls would jump at. She probably would, had she been able to concentrate on anything other than the feel of his hand squeezing her hip slightly. She hated to feel trapped.

    “You know that there is nothing that I would deny you”, he told her gently, placing a kiss on her shoulder as her head lolled to the opposite side.

    He didn’t normally care if the woman didn’t want to talk the following morning, hell, unless he felt like a second round he would kick them out but this was different. She was his wife, his young, gorgeous, sumptuous, vivacious and apparently extremely pure wife.

    “There is no need to be embarrassed about the blood”, he told her, concerned that she might be genuinely worried that she had ruined something which he supposed – for her – was rather expensive. “It just reminds me that I was the first man to touch you, to look upon your beauty, to make you his”, his voice rumbled against her ear. “Although, it wasn’t what I expected”.

    She turned her head in surprise, their noses were almost touching. “It wasn’t?”

    “I wasn’t sure”, he spoke against her skin as he travelled, placing kisses from her ear to her mouth.

    “I thought that you had researched everything about me”, she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him back just enough so that she could see into his hazel eyes. There was no point in lying about the fact that she too had researched him too and knew his tendencies. His main one was to be extremely suspicious and want to know everything about everyone who was in any way connected with him.

    “I did”, he confessed, staring down at her, “but I still couldn’t be sure”. He transferred his weight to one arm so that he could trace a finger along her cheek, as he informed her, “You, Chloe Ann Luthor ...”

    “Sullivan Luthor”, she corrected.

    “Chloe Ann Sullivan Luthor”, he expanded with a hint of a smile, “are a mystery to me”.

    She sighed (a little besottedly) as she knew that she was supposed to, but didn’t believe him for a second. Lionel Luthor did nothing without copious amounts of research.

    Chloe stared back out of the window, the ornate frames like a jail cell, even the sunlight could not penetrate the fortress without being altered. It was too late to pretend that these was a marriage based on love, or tenderness or anything other than manipulation.

    She felt horrendously bad, as if the adrenaline from the last few days had been the only thing getting her through and now she had crashed.

    Lionel's finger tips travelled back down her body, teasing her as they went, to stroke her stomach gently, “We are going to be very happy together. I’m going to give you everything”, he proceeded to lay out their future life together highlighting the nursery which they were going to fill.

    At first Chloe just lay there, listening to him, concentrating on her breathing until she heard his voice growing warm once more and his hand start to travel south. “I can really have anything that I want?” She questioned, almost coyly.

    “Yes”, he answered with a seductive grin.

    “Then please may I have some aspirin and some more sleep then?”

    It hadn’t been what he had been hoping for, but he smiled none the less and kissed her temple. “Of course, my darling”. He stretched out for he phone and called down for the maid before reclining back on the bed next to his wife.

    “They will bring us some breakfast as well”, he informed her, “you need to eat if you have a headache and want to take tablets”.

    “Thank-you, but there is no need to worry about me. I don’t want to interrupt your day”, she told him sweetly.

    “Don’t be silly, of course I wouldn’t leave you alone, especially not when you have a headache”, he propped himself up against the headboard and smiled when Chloe moved the sheet so that he was still covered below the waist. He stroked his fingers through her soft tresses and began to massage her scalp whilst they waited for their breakfast which arrived blessedly quickly as far as Chloe was concerned.

    After the discomforture of being seen in bed with Lionel, being naked, knowing that she had stained a cover that she could never afford, having someone else waiting on her and being brought breakfast in bed, Chloe’s cheeks were beet red. She wondered whether she was doomed to spend the rest of her life an unattractive shade of scarlet.

    “Don’t worry your little head about it, my darling”, Lionel straightened the tray on the bed spread, “you will get used to the maids. I don’t even notice them any more”.

    That did not fill Chloe with confidence nor was she certain that she ever wished to reach the point were she ceased identifying the staff as people, but she did not argue the point. Instead, with some small degree of difficulty, she managed to sit herself up next to Lionel against the headrest, with the sheet firmly tucked under her armpits.

    Her husband observed her progress with mirth, “You know, I have seen you naked”.

    She blushed, “Yes, well nakedness and breakfast don’t go very well together”.

    “Well, we will have to agree to disagree on that one until you are feeling better”. He placed some fruit on a plate near to her with a tablet and large glass of water.

    “After last night that might take a while”, she said, taking the pill and water gratefully.

    “You seemed to be enjoying it at the time”, his said in an oddly strained voice which she couldn't quite explain.

    “Yes, and now aside from a headache I am sore”, she kept her voice light and teasing, as if it were his excessive virility which had undone her little weak female body.

    “Your breakfast and some rest will help, not to mention we do have very large bathtubs”, he stroked her thigh. Then studied her before saying slowly, “It would probably have been a little easier on you had you not insisted on being on top”.

    “I know”, she said to the strawberry she was slowly consuming, after taking her aspirin. “I just …” she broke off, “I just wanted to do it that way”.

    Lionel didn’t believe her but he let it go, allowing her to rest after eating. As he stared down at her, pretending to be asleep, he knew that he had made the right choice.

    He stroked her head gently, “Best decision I ever made. When you want something, you have to take it”.

    ~*~

    After forcing herself to lounge around in bed all morning – with Lionel hovering over her – Chloe had taken a long, if not entirely relaxing bath, before coming back out to find all of her stuff put away. She wasn’t used to this life of luxury. She found it extremely stressful.

    “Some people are never satisfied”, she muttered to herself as she hunted around for her clothes and other accoutrements. Finding only half of what she needed. “See, it is just so much easier when everything is laid out neatly across the floor. Then you can find everything you need”.

    She got dressed quickly, even without Lionel around she could shake the feeling that someone was watching her. It was difficult to look at herself now, after what she had done but she forced herself to do it anyway. She sat at the vanity and brushed her blonde hair until is glistened before applying her make-up carefully until she looked like a polished young lady, and absolutely nothing like herself.

    The girl who ran around with wild hair, not a scrap of make-up but with a great idea had been so well and truly buried that she began to wonder if she hadn't just been a figment of her imagination.She blinked back the tears which were gathering in her green eyes and double checked her mascara. There, at least she wouldn’t look as out of place in this huge castle as she felt.

    She got up and left the room. She had plenty of time until they were supposed to have their late lunch, but she had no idea how long it would take her to find her way to the dining room. Lionel had never managed to get around to giving her a tour of the place the day before so she was working on instinct. Ha, instinct. She had always had a terrible sense of direction. Her father had always teased her about it. An atrocious sense of time keeping too. She had no idea how long it had taken her to retrace her steps from the afternoon before enough to locate the staircase and at least get herself onto the right floor.

    Only once she reached the bottom of the staircase did the sneaking suspicion creep up on her that there might be more than one. She turned around in the enormous hallway in which she had found herself, taking note of everything and deciding that this definitely wasn't the right place. For one thing there was an enormous portrait of Lionel and for another there was a front door there. Both things that she would definitely have noticed.

    This place was ridiculous. A few years ago, she would have been running around it like a kid on blue Smarties, peeking into room after room. Now, she just wanted to make a break for it. She clenched her fists and told herself not to be so stupid, she squared her shoulders and chanted, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, Catch a tiger by the toe. If he squeals, let him go, Eeny, meeny, miny”, as her finger flitted between the different corridors with which she was faced, “mo”. The first one on the left it was.

    “Madam?”

    “Oh my God”, she jumped about a foot in the air.

    “I beg your pardon, Madam; I did not mean to startle you”.

    Chloe placed her hand over her chest, where her heart was thumping so strongly that she thought it might actually break her ribs. “That’s all right”, she searched her memory from the day before, she was sure that he had introduced himself … “Carlton”, her voice edged up at the end, tinged with uncertainty. She had had a lot on her mind.

    He inclined his head with a small smile, “Are you looking for he dining room, Madam?”

    “Yes”, she said thankfully. “I have absolutely no idea where it is”, she confessed.

    “Quite, it can be difficult at first, Madame”, he said, not unkindly. “I would be glad to show you the way and provide you with a map later, if you should wish for one”.

    “Yes, thank-you”, she said with relief. She didn’t want to go through this every time she left her bedroom. For one thing she would like to know where the kitchen was in case she ever got hungry, not to mention the fire escapes.

    He led the way and Chloe brushed her hands down the dark silk of her dress, checking that her attire was straight and wrinkle free, as she tried to calm her jangled nerves.

    “Here we are, Madame”, he said.

    Chloe was about to thank him, wait for him to leave and collect herself before she entered only to witness him opening the door for her. She managed to give him a tight smile as she entered the extremely large, extremely formal dining room.

    In other circumstances she would have loved it. Delved into every nook and cranny. Wanted to know everything about everything. From the names of the exotic flowers which adorned the priceless china to the origin of the crest nestled in the stained glass windows. Not to mention, where they got what appeared to be a thirty foot table from and who had painted the pictures – she recognised the Rembbrant which had gone missing several decades ago but not several of the others. She was sure that they too were famous; they were very pretty. Now, she was merely focused on the two men in the room.

    “Good afternoon, my dear”, Lionel stood up and walked over to her from where he had been sitting at the head of the table, “we were just about to send out a search party”.

    “Am I late?” She asked, glancing down at her diamond encrusted watch, and trying not to think of her old multi-coloured plastic one. The one which Lionel had mocked.

    “Only a little”, he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving her a peck on the lips, partly because she was irresistible, partly to show his son that he could, “but that’s all right. You can be late all you want now”.

    “I didn’t mean to be”, she remained passive throughout his embrace, “I got lost”.

    There was a cough from behind Lionel, which was studiously ignored.

    “My poor darling”, he pressed his lips against her forehead. “Well, not to worry. I will show you everything later on. I want you to feel comfortable in your new home”.

    Another noise from Lex’s general direction.

    Lionel wrapped his arm around his new wife’s waist and escorted her over to a seat at the other end of the table, the place of the lady of the house and pulled the chair out for her.

    “Thank-you”, she gave him a pretty smile, turning her head away from Lex, pointedly ignoring him.

    “You are most welcome”, he leant to give her head another brief kiss, “and now for a lovely family dinner”. “Lex, if you have something in your throat go outside and clear it otherwise stop making stupid noises. You are not a cat, you don’t have fur balls”.

    Lex ignored the rebuke and inquired in a voice which was verging on polite, “I was just wondering when the cameras were arriving”.

    Lionel raised an eyebrow at him as he sailed back over to his own seat and rang the bell for service.

    “Why he big show if there is no photo op?” He clarified.

    “Alexander my dear boy, so suspicious for one so comparatively young”, he smirked, “I just wanted us all to get to know each other as a family”.

    Lex refrained from rolling his eyes, but only just.

    Even Chloe eyed her husband with suspicion.

    “Honestly, anyone would have thought that the two of you had never eaten a family meal before”, he chuckled, in an overly jovial manner.

    “She's pregnant”, Lex guessed.

    “No”, Chloe answered automatically. That, was not happening. Whatever it took, that would never happen!

    “Well, I suppose that it is always a possibility but it will take a week or two to find out”, Lionel said more cheerfully. “It wasn’t the reason for the marriage”.

    “No, I should have known”, Lex reconcidered.

    Lionel nodded.

    But then Lex continued, “Only good girls get caught out”, turning to look at his father's new bride, with a snide, provoking sneer.

    Chloe went beet red and felt scalding hot all over, even her chest was flushed. “I am a good girl”, she ground out, tears actually pricking her eyes but she blinked them away angrily.

    “Hmmm”, was Lex's only response, as he settled back in his chair comfortably and took a sip of water.

    Chloe took a deep breath trying to control herself and took a sip of the water which was already sitting in front of her, before retraining her eyes upon Lex. “Well, I suppose that it would be difficult for you to recognise seeing as you have never met one”. She knew his reputation, if it had two legs, two breasts and dark hair, Lex would fuck it.

    He growled. He actually growled as he slammed his own glass down so hard that the stem shattered sending water across the expensive linen tablecloth. There was the sound of muffled cursing and the scraping of wood on wood as he rose to keep any from trickling into his lap.

    “For God's sake Lex, sit back down and stop making such a song and dance about everything”, was his father's only response to the scene before him.

    Lex shook his hand angrily to rid it of the droplets of water. “Dad, drop the charade would you. I'm hardly going to sit down and eat at the same table as a whore”.

    Chloe was so red that she was almost purple. So hurt that she could hardly breath. Through stinging, blurry eyes she looked to Lionel to see that he was going to do absolutely nothing in her defence. After everything that he had done to her, to her family, everything he had promised her he was just going to sit there and let his son attack her. Her chin wobbled and so did her legs but not her conviction as she stood and walked to the door.

    Lex shook his head in disbelieve, apparently knowing what was going to happen next.

    “Darling, don't be silly”, Lionel called.

    She continued.

    “Chloe”, his voice was sharper, “come back here”.

    Lex smiled, waiting for the outburst.

    “Chloe Luthor, I told you to come back here”, he was angry now.

    Lex almost burst out laughing when she actually marched out of the door. Judging by the look on the older man's face, that was the first time that that had ever happened to him. This marriage might be over quicker than anyone had ever imagined. Lex was about to open his mouth to ask something, presumably when Chloe would find herself out on the street, only to see his father getting up and storming after his recalcitrant bride.

    “Chloe, come back here”, Lionel shouted at her retreating figure.

    Chloe did not stop stomping towards the door.

    “Chloe”, he repeated as he pursued her, his much longer legs eating up the distance between them.

    She paid him no heed; her anger was far to great. She was shaking with it. She reached out for the door handle but Lionel leant forwards and slammed his hand against it, keeping it closed before grabbing her arms, spinning her around and pressing her back against the hard wood.

    “You do not walk away from me”, he ground out.

    “Get off me”, she struggled against him, trying to get free but unable to do so. He moved his hands to her wrists, pinning them either side of her head.

    “What the hell is wrong with you?”

    “Is that all that I am to you?” She demanded.

    “What?” He looked at her for the first time since he had turned her around. Her face was flushed, her chest was heaving, she was trembling and her large eyes were filled with pain and tears. Actual tears. Suddenly he felt his anger begin to ebb as a lump formed in his throat.

    “A … a”, she chocked on her own breath, unable to force the vile word from her lips. “What he said”, finally came out after several more false starts.

    “Baby, no”, he let go of her wrists and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close to him, but she wouldn't be won over.

    “No, Lionel, tell me. Is that all that our relationship is to you? A way for you to scratch your itch? Am I that insignificant to you? You know that you were my first, you saw the blood but still you did nothing!”

    “Darling, no”, he cradled her against his chest, a gesture which was as protective as it was possessive. She continued to struggle. He cupped her face and made her look up at him. “Look at me”, he instructed. “Listen to me. Chloe, I love you my darling. I'm sorry that I didn't stand up for you with Lex, I didn't know that it matter to you. I love you so much my dearest, dearest darling”.

    She blinked, the movement caused the moister to trickle down her cheeks. He used his thumbs to brush the droplets of sadness away.

    “It doesn't matter to me. Even if you hadn't been a virgin, even if I hadn't seen the blood … with you, it doesn't matter. You are my wife, you are going to be the mother of my child, the heir to all of this ...”

    He pulled her back into his arms as the words sank in. Her cheek rested on his shoulder as she stared out of the window next to the door at the great wide world beyond her, feeling his arms strong around her. Locking her in tightly.

    She had no idea that anyone was watching their exchange.

    ~*~

    Lex Luthor sat in in his suite of rooms, the security feed by the door directing straight onto his computer. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, and the image quality and angle were only just good enough for him to catch a few words but he had seen more than enough.

    The fact that Lionel acted that way with her, even though Lex was certain that he was only pretending to give in to her, meant that she was smart, manipulative and dangerous. More than that, he was starting to believe that she was 'topping from the bottom' as the somewhat vulgar saying went.

    At least now he had one more piece of vital information. And it had something to do with sex. At least his research wouldn’t be dull.

    A/N: Hello, I hope that you liked it. Reviews are always welcome and I have started a new story in this section called The Great Deception if you want to check it out.

  5. #65
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    Wow, I had been away for a while due to school and work and I am excited to see so many updates. Please continue. Can't wait to see what happen next.

  6. #66
    NS Senior Member Senior Member HotCrossedBunny's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Updated 17th November 2013

    A/N: Thanks for reading Trckyrcky.

    Chapter Three

    The eerie orange glow of the flickering strip lights illuminated the long, narrow hallway, highlighting its grey paper thin walls and dark blue, slightly strained carpet which was so thin in parts it revealed the creaking floorboards below. A sight all too familiar in the cheapest, down-town college dorms.

    As always, there was a pervading stench of mould, sweat socks and finally frying fat which crept up from the canteen many floors below. Along with an odd sense of loneliness in spite of the constant, incessant, irritating noise of people talking, arguing, typing and generally living which seemed to seep from every direction. It gave the impression of isolation but danger at the same time. It was enough to make anyone a little nervous.

    A small women wrapped two threadbare towels - one around her body, the other around her head - scuttled along the hallway, her hands clinging to the strip of material covering her nude form, her wash-bag swinging almost comically from her wrist as she went. It almost smashed into the wall when she came to an abrupt hall and fought with the lock on a door which didn’t look like it would take more than one good kick to break down. The damned thing always got stuck.

    Finally, she was forced to glance around nervously before removing both hands from her towel and yanking the handle until it gave way and she was free to scurry inside. She slammed the door after her immediately, leaving her in complete blackness. She stood with her back pressed firmly into the wood’s peeling paintwork, her fingers fumbling in the darkness for the lock, not daring to move until she heard the tell-tale click of the deadbolt falling into place.

    Her breath was coming more quickly than she would have liked. She strove to get it under control as she slowly reached out and felt her way along the wall until she found the nob and the light flickered on. It was no better than the one outside.

    The dim florescent light revealed a carpet which was only slightly less stained than the one outside and walls where the dingy paint had flaked away in places to reveal the breeze block beneath, giving the impression of a prison. Although, a prison might have been nicer. The tiny room which was laughingly advertised as a ‘double’ contained two beds only fit for children and covered in the thickest comforters the students could afford as the ill fitted panes of glass in the room’s only window were so thin that they did nothing to shield them from the biting wind.

    The accommodation’s only adornments were found in the swirls of black and green mould which extended from the window, their tentacles starting to caresses the beds, winding their way into the girl’s lungs as they slept. The only other furniture consisted of two small desks with chairs and strange box like contraptions which passed for closets. It was to one of these that they blonde woman headed.

    She took out the clothes that she had selected earlier but had been too ashamed to put out, just in case her room-mate returned early. She glanced over at the clock, still nine and a Wednesday. There was a good chance that she wouldn’t be back at all. That would make things simpler.

    She rubbed her arms energetically trying to ward off the goosebumps which marred her flesh but only succeeded in noticing that the tops of her nails were starting to turn blue. She glanced around once more and grabbed her desired outfit and slipped out of the lower towel quickly. She pulled on her lacy black underwear over her newly shaved and moisturised body, before shoving on her dress. She smoothed her hands down along the fabric as it clung to her curves. It felt oddly sensual, she swallowed remembering how she had looked it in the dressing room that afternoon. She had felt sick, hating to see herself clad in something so provocative.

    The sense of nausea had never truly left her, even though she tried to tell herself that it wasn’t really that bad. No one looking from the outside would know, the black length of material was seductive yet classy. She had found it in the bottom of the bargain bin of a discount store. A five-hundred dollar dress reduced to twenty – although it was twenty dollars that she could ill afford. She had to keep reminding herself that it was an investment.
    *
    She grabbed her slightly less prestigiously made black high-heeled pumps, and made her way over to her small desk which once she had moved the stack of due papers and bills into her only lockable draw, would double as her dressing table. She ferreted around for what remained of her make-up supplies and applied it carefully and sparingly. Then fished out her hair-dryer and hoped that it wouldn’t blow the power again, once per week was more than enough to have the entire floor banging on her door.
    *
    She tried to ignore the shaking of her hands as the machine whirred into life and her gaze fixed onto the packed bag sitting on her bed. Had she turned back around and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she would have seen the image a young woman on the cusp of panic. Fortunately, that wasn’t what anyone saw an hour later when she strode into the lobby of the luxury hotel.

    The epitome of the well dressed confident business woman she sailed through the vestibule, though the milling hoard, to the lift earning more than a few appraising looks.

    The only suggestion that she was uncomfortable or feeling sick was the hint of moister on her palms as she ran her hands down the sides of her skirt, ostensibly to smooth it down. This became a habit as she waited for the lift to arrive, one which she indulged in a few more times as she eventually entered the conveyance and found herself surrounded by strange, well dressed men who seemed to find it difficult to keep their eyes off her.

    She tried to calm herself but it was impossible. There, with the hum of people and the oppressive heat of the small cubical baring down on her, her heart rattled against her ribcage, her blood pounded in her ears and she felt a scream welling up inside her but she fought it down. She had to go through with this; she was all out of options. The lift continued its excruciatingly slow assent, stopping every few seconds as one by one her companions left her, and yet somehow the chime came all too soon.
    *
    Her chin rose, she was going to face her fate bravely. Or at least, she hoped that she was. As she looked into the steel doors at the blurred image of the woman staring back at her, she wasn’t so sure.

    She tried to convince herself that that wasn’t really what she looked like, she wasn’t really so wan, so dolled up, so wholly unfamiliar to herself. It was just a trick of the light, a door couldn’t be relied on for an accurate image. These excuses died away as the metal panels slid to the side, revealing the foyer before her and her own image in the enormous gilt framed mirror. Anyone who knew her would have known that the pale to her ivory skin was not natural, that the colour in her cheeks and lips was owed purely to make-up, that the shimmer in her eyes was from tears that she would not, could not allow to fall.

    Seconds stretched by and found herself unable to force herself forwards, hating herself for her weakness until the doors began to close and somehow her legs began to lurch forwards. She was clear of the lift and heard the door closing after her, blocking off her escape. She thought that she was going to be sick at any second but still she continued forwards, even if her legs did feel as if she were trudging through tar.
    *
    It was easy enough to find the door, there was only one; it was the penthouse. They must have had some form of surveillance as it opened before she could even consider knocking or feel the last of her resolve melting away.
    *
    An elderly man stood in the open doorway, greying at the temples, in a well tailored suit and staring at her with a forbidding expression etched into his craggy features. He wasn’t the man that she was there to see, and yet she paled.
    *
    “I’m the secretary”, she blurted out, without having being asked, feeling the need to justify her presence there. “I ... I have a card”, she rifled through her bag. Damn it, where was it? Her shaking, taper fingers clawed her way through her possessions until she found it. Sweaty, crumpled, she handed it over to him. The now scruffy slip of paper, obviously out of place in his white gloved hand.
    *
    “Of course you are, madam”, he returned the her card to her and she coloured up terribly. This man was the same age as her father, if not older and she had the distinct impression that he knew what she was really there to do.
    *
    “Right this way”, he stood to the side, allowing her admittance.

    Somehow she made her way through the penthouse through several living rooms larger than the house she had grown up in, without either her legs giving way or throwing up until she was sure that she was never going to get there when suddenly, her companion deserted her with a nod of farewell. She span around to see where he disappeared to, only to find herself face to face with someone infinitely more dangerous.

    She had seen him in pictures, in interviews but never in person. She swallowed. He was a tall man with a spare frame in a suit which brought new meaning to the phrase well-tailored. A thick mane of rich chestnut hair framed a handsome, if stern, face which held two of the most startling eyes she had ever seen. They spoke eloquently of more knowledge than she had known was possible. Everything about him exuded confidence and control. This was not a man who was used to brooking defiance. He was just staring at her, his eyes travelling along her body, and yet he made her feel tiny and insignificant. Which, of course, she was to him. Just on in a long line to be forgotten the following morning.
    *
    He continued to pursue her, carefully but not crudely - nothing about this man could ever be crude. She fidgeted although she tried to stop herself, smoothing her skirt once again. Try as she might, she couldn’t read his expression, he might have been disgusted, horrified or amused for all she could tell.

    Finally, he spoke, “I don’t believe that we have met before”.

    She thought that her knees might actually give way. His voice was deep and cultured as she had known it would be but the texture, the authority ... It was warm but it chilled her to the bone

    *“No”, she agreed, just happy that she could form words; her mouth was drier than the Sahara, “the company sent me over”. That was how she had been told to refer to Alicia and her girls. The company.

    “You’re new?”

    “No”, she blurted out in fright before realising that it hadn’t really been a question.

    He smiled, or rather, the edges of his mouth turned up. He walked over to her slowly, his footsteps so soft that she couldn’t even hear them, as if he were an assassin used to sneaking up on people and slitting their throats. He reached out to her, his long but elegant fingers, stroking her hair, removing the tendrils from her face so she would have nowhere to hide. She was scared, she wanted to leave, part of her was hoping that he would throw her out but she knew what would happen to her if he did. His lips parted and her heart froze mid beat.

    “Please God”, she begged, “let me live”.

    “Don’t lie to me, precious”.

    Her heart thumped in her chest.

    “I’m new”. She admitted, knowing that she had no choice. That wasn’t what she had been told to do. Exactly the opposite in fact. She had been ordered never to let them know that it her first time.
    *
    “And yet they sent you?”

    She couldn’t*discern anything from his face, voice or question. But apparently he wasn’t having that same problem; he could ready her like a book. “Answer me, don’t be afraid”.

    “Yes”, she murmured nervously. The company had sent him every single girl they had in Metropolis over the last few months, he had never been satisfied. The company was cautious about taking on new girls although they had been on the hunt recently but only she had made the grade. “They said that you wanted something different”.

    “That is very true”, he took in her appearance once more, she was a fair cry from the willowy red heads he normally chose.

    “Come”, he took her arm and led over to the settee, “sit down”.

    She sank down gratefully, her legs about ready to give out.

    “I’ll pour us some drinks”, he informed her as he grasped a bottle on the side table by its neck. Chloe tried not to think about the fact fact that this bottle he treated so carelessly was probably worth more than her car and that the butter soft leather beneath her more than her entire college education. If she had a clumsy moment she would be in debt until long after she was dead.

    “Here”, he handed her a measure of scotch before seating himself next to her. “It will do you good”.

    She examined the beverage dubiously, that was far more than she had ever drunk before she she dared not refuse.

    “Thank-you”, she brought it to her lips and took the tiniest of sips. She coughed and her eyes began to water.

    “You are not used to alcohol”, he said, as if he had just been testing her. He plucked her glass from her grip and replaced it with the other in his hand. She saw that that at least was water. He had been testing her.

    He raised his newly acquired drink to her in a salute before sipping down the fiery liquid, his lips touching the marks left by hers.

    She drank down the water gratefully, hoping that some of her faintness was due to dehydration.

    “Is that better?” He enquired, smiling slightly at her. She didn’t see any reason to deny it; he had already told her not to lie. “Good”, he placed his hand on her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I have to admit that you are not my normal type, but you are very beautiful”.

    “Thank-you”, she wasn’t sure what else to say.

    “You are blushing, so young, so innocent”, he stroked her cheek. He was suddenly finding the idea that she had been untouched until him rather stimulating “I makes me wonder, what got you into this?”

    She stared at him with her large, green eyes. She had no idea how she was supposed to answer that.

    “The truth”.

    “I need money to complete college”, that was an understatement. She was several months behind on all of her bills and that wasn’t including the massive credit card bill she had been hit with.

    He nodded, “I’m sure that you’ll make it”, he ran his finger through her soft silky tresses, his hand then caressing the back of her neck. She shivered and he smiled. “You have experience though?”
    *
    She nodded, slowly.

    “How much?”

    “Um ... I don’t know exactly. I didn’t keep a tally. I’ve had”, she appeared to be thinking, “a few boyfriends so I slept with a few of them, a couple of dozen times I’d guess”.

    He nodded, seeming satisfied.

    He leant in, his lips almost touching her ear, “Don’t over think it. Just image that we met in a bar, I thought you were attractive and brought you a drink, we talked for a little danced a bit, and I seduced you”. The hadn which had been on her knee slipped up her thigh.

    ~*~

    Lex jerked awake in a cold sweat. The dream had seemed so real, like he had been there watching it all. He stared around expecting to find himself hotel in Metropolis with his father and his new bride only to see the familiar darkened surrounding of his bedroom in the castle.

    He flopped back against the pillows angrily. He was going insane. That was the only explanation for it. He was going completely and uttering out of his tree insane. He wanted to scream, but instead he heaved himself up and made his way over to his laptop and searched for any new updates on her. There were none. That wasn’t good enough.

    Knowing that he had no chance of a good night’s sleep until this mystery was solved - and that his brain was coming up with some weird explanations - he grabbed his cellphone, replaced the sim and then punched in the familiar number, “What have you got for me?” He demanded without preamble or greetings.

    If his investigator had been asleep, he did a good job of hiding it as he recounted the long winding tale of how they had begun investigating but the end result was disappointing, “We found nothing”.

    Lex was very close to smashing the phone and/or sending his fist through the wall. Fortunately, as they were made out of two foot of stone, he managed to control himself. “This is ridiculous. What do you suggest that I do then?”

    “I can only suggest patience until we have something more to go on”.

    The phone went sailing through the air to smash against the wall. Lex didn’t feel any better.

    He returned to his computer and pulled up one of his many flies on the new Mrs Luthor.

    Pictures.

    Charts.

    Odd comments.

    Everything was documented and yet he was no closer to discovering the truth. He couldn’t help the nagging suspicion that she was somehow involved with the sex trade, it was the only thing that made sense. The way that she had reacted earlier when he had only being trying to rile her up, there was something lurking there. Something worse than a semi-attractive girl who managed to seduce a billionaire into her bed for a night.

    His fists clenched. He was furious. It was bad enough that a mystery was eluding him, let alone one which was so important. This creature had come into his house, looking like that, wrapping his father around her little finger with the intention of replacing his mother. She had actually sat in a room where yet again her picture had been removed as if she had done nothing wrong and deserved to be there. All the while wearing his mother’s ring. Rubbing it in his face. His mother had been a saint who had always preached forgiveness but in this case he could not oblige her. He hated Chloe Luthor. Hated her with every fibre of his being and yet he could not stop thinking about her.

    Lex sat studying various documents for some time before coming to the realisation that an epiphany was not going to be forthcoming. He looked back at his bed, but neither was sleep until he had solved the mystery. It was still dark, barely passed midnight, but still he got up and headed for the door. If he wasn’t going to get anything done, he might as well play some pool.

    He was only a few steps outside his room when he saw something that made him grin, he couldn’t believe his luck.

    A/N: Can you guess what he saw? How do you think that Chloe and Lionel did meet?

  7. #67
    NS Senior Member Senior Member HotCrossedBunny's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Posted 29th October 2013

    A/N: Here are the next two chapters if anyone is interested.

    Chapter Four

    Chloe felt ill. In fact, she thought that she might be sick at any moment. There was no reason why she should feel like this; she was surrounded by luxury, in the peaceful stillness of the night, enveloped in the warmth of her husband’s embrace, his hot breath tickling her neck as he breathed softly. She should have felt contented but instead of appreciating all of this, instead of turning around and allowing him to nuzzle further into her as she drifted off to sleep. She was lying there: wide awake and slightly nauseous. The longer she lay there, the worse it got. An hour ago it hadn’t been so bad, he was just spooning her. Many women would have like that. Now, what she could only assume was supposed to be a loving, if slightly possessive, gesture was starting to resemble a heavy weight across her stomach binding her to him with no chance of escape

    She couldn’t sleep and she couldn't lie next to Lionel any longer.

    She felt guilty, dirty and above all else ill. She clenched her hands in the covers, trying to control her breathing, to convince herself that she was being stupid - which she knew she was. Lionel wasn’t an ogre, he was her devoted husband. The man who was so desperate to be closer to her that he was holding her even as he slept. He wasn’t going to hurt her. His arm moved slightly and she jumped.

    She slammed her eyes shut in terror but then, after a few seconds, when her actions weren’t met with demands to know what she was doing, she opened them slightly and peered over at him. It wasn’t easy given the angle but it was clear that he was still asleep. She gave a sigh of relief.

    He was obviously a very deep sleeper. She ran her hand over his gently and was relieved to notice no change, with equal care she took it and inch by inch slid it back over so that he was holding onto himself. Immediately, she felt better.

    She lifted her side of the cover ever so slightly and then, infinitesimal amount by infinitesimal amount she slid out from underneath the covers and finally she was free. The cool night air hit her, feeling wonderfully refreshing after being cocooned in Lionel’s warmth.

    Delighted by her touch of freedom she checked on her husband once again and upon perceiving that his sleeping form had not moved, she smiled with relief and tip toed to the door, snagging her robe and slippers from the chair as she went.

    She slid them on, although her eyes remained trained on her spouse until she was out of the door, taking a full minute over the opening and closing of the heavy wood to ensure that it didn’t make a sound.

    Once in the hallway she looked first to the right and then to the left and headed in the latter direction partly because she though that that was where she had come from earlier that day but more because that was where the large window was and the glimmer of moonlight.

    As she crept along she was fairly certain that it was the same path from before, but it all look so different at night. It was certainly a lot scarier. She wrapped her arms around herself no longer finding the chill refreshing and wishing that she had something a little more substantial than her silk robe but still she was unwilling to go back. In fact, she looked over her shoulder, just in case. Thankfully it appeared that she was still alone.

    She placed her hand on the banister and slowly made her way down the stairs. Carefully so that she won't fall pausing only for a second at the bottom before turning and heading down one hallway, still not turning on the light. Mostly because she had no idea where it might be.

    Chloe had the odd sensation that she was being followed, but when she looked over her shoulder she saw nothing, so she continued nervously. She strained her eyes against the darkness and counted what she thought was seven doors across in order to reach the library, but upon entering realised her mistake. She turned around to leave only to come face to face with a solid chest. She tilted her head up and found herself staring into the face of her enemy.

    Lex smiled slowly and cruelly, he had followed her the whole way and it had been worth while. His eyes had become accustomed enough to the darkness that the pale light shimmering through the closed French doors behind her was more than enough for him to be able to drink her in.

    She was standing just inside the doorway, her tiny slipper clad feet dancing backwards along the cold hard tiles, her long pale legs tense and tying to hide behind each other as his gaze racked over them up to her short silk slip which was wrapped tightly around her, revealing her slender curves and the stiff peaks brought on by the chill in the air.

    He licked his lips, not bothering to hide his admiration. She blushed, from her chest to her face or what he could see of her face. Part of her visage was covered by her golden hair which spilled out everywhere, but did not stop him from making out her eyes. The green orbs were wide, scared and fixed on him. He fed of her fear.

    “What are you doing here?” His voice was silky and dangerous.

    “I was going for a walk”, she announced, a tremor in her voice as she stared up at him, determined not to break.

    “Is that so?” He advanced on her, a sinfully handsome smirk spreading across his features as he watched her try to stand her ground, only to scurry back just as he came close enough to touch her.

    There was a bang, without his weight against the door it had closed, sealing off her exit.

    He advanced on her until she was far enough until the room to be bathed completely in the soft light while shadows still clung to his form.

    She raised her chin an inch, lowered her heels to the ground and attempted to pull her robe even more tightly around herself. It was a pathetic attempt at trying to stare him down but he found it oddly cute.

    “Of course, what better time to go for a walk than the middle of the night? Without any lights on. Without telling anyone”, he took a step closer to her with each accusation, excited by the fact she refused to move back any further even as her breath hitched in her throat.

    “Who says that I didn’t tell anyone?”

    “Well, if the quiver in your voice didn’t give you away ...”

    Her eyes narrowed at him.

    He grinned.

    “Then the fact that Lionel isn’t here with you would. My father is a lot of things but stupid enough to let a woman who looks like you”, he allowed his eyes to trail over her body, delighting in the way that she squirmed, “run around half dressed in the middle of the night, isn’t one of them”.

    He moved to take one last step towards her. It would have brought them nose to nose, chest to chest - or would have had he not dwarfed her -, but she reached out and pressed the palms of her hands firmly against him.

    “Allowed does not come into it. I am the lady of the house now, I go wherever I want whenever I want and you would do well to remember that”, her eyes crackling with fury met his and sparks flew.

    She was furious and wanted to leave, but she couldn’t. She felt as if she were caught in quicksand. They continued to stare at each other, neither one about to make the first move less it not pan out and they lose face, when she decided on an exit strategy. She inquired, almost conversationally, “What is this place?”

    Lex blinked, that had not been what he had been expecting to come out of her pretty, pouting mouth. It knocked him off centre. “I would have thought that you would have known”, he began then smirked as he watched as she used it as an excuse to dart around him without looking as if she were fleeing. So that was her game.

    “I was aiming for the library”, she informed him coolly as she started towards the door.

    He stared at her, in the dark, he wasn't sure that he believed her as innocent as she looked and sounded. “One door down”, he stayed where he was, letting her eat up the space between her and her escape. Growing more confident with every step until he decided to remind her of his presence again.

    She appeared to nod and started to reach for the door handle, even though she was still a few metres away. Lex headed her off, remind her, “You haven't answered my question”.

    “I see no reason why I should”, the expression of shattered optimism on her features was unmistakable.

    He decided to press his advantage. He placed his hands on her arms and watched her shiver, and not just from the difference in temperature he’d be bound.

    He closed what was left of the gap between them, deliberately lowering his voice so that she would have to strain to hear him, as if he were letting her in on a secret. “Perhaps my father would like to hear what you were doing”.

    She shrugged and tried to look casual as she attempted to manoeuvre herself out of his grip.

    He wouldn’t allow it. He was gentle but controlling as he ran his hands up and down the soft, frozen flesh of her arms “You really think that he will believe anything that you say, don’t you? You think that you are so special”.

    “I know that I am”, she had been told so many times. She turned her head away from him, she didn’t care if he thought her weak, she would not allow him to witness the pain and loss in her expression.

    He pursed his lips, knowing that she was hiding something. He released one of her arms and rotated her head so that he could see her face as he told her, “You are not untouchable”. Shaking the tree, to see what flew out.

    She swallowed. The last few days would have been enough to shatter any such disillusions, had she ever had any. Still, she was not going to allow herself to be manhandled in the middle of whatever room it was they were actually in; she never had got an answer about that. With an expression meant to convey sheer boredom, she rolled her eyes.“I am, however, exceptionally bored with this. You in particular”.

    He laughed and removed his hands from her body, only to begin circling her like a lion does his prey. “I have to wonder what a woman like you sees in my father”.

    “Then look a little harder”, she shot at the moving target.

    He smirked. “There are other men in the world”.

    She rolled her eyes again but turned as he did, not liking to have him at her back. Something caught her eye and she couldn’t help but ask again, “Where are we?”

    He furrowed his brow at her, thinking that she was trying to distract him and then bolt but observing her genuine look of astonished interest and knowing that he could catch her long before she made it to the door, he consented to glance around his surroundings. He didn’t know what she found so fascinating about it.“Just a room. Nothing in particular”.

    “There are all of these antiques and you call it nothing?” She gaped. Some people really were spoilt.

    He followed the line of her gaze and bristled. The room was not generally used for storage but apparently taking down his mother’s image had been done in such a hurry that they had just left them in there, knowing that the room was never used.

    Chloe’s curiosity had always got the better of her, and this time was no exception. She forgot all about her argument with Lex for a second as she walked over to the vast array of paintings and other beautiful objects. There were several vases which had she owned would have been in pride of place but appeared to have just been forgotten in a random room of the great castle. She studied one of the larger paintings at the front, a gorgeous piece which until her marriage had resided in the dining room. “Who is it?”

    Lex stared at her incredulously. He could not believe that she actually had the nerve to ask him such a thing. He refused to answer. This didn’t seem to bother Chloe much as she continued, “It looks old, like its from the Renaissance but I don't recognise it and the colours are just a little too good and clear. It must be a new copy but it really is extraordinary”.

    He frowned, he couldn’t believe that she actually knew anything about art. She probably just read Art for Dummies to impress his father.

    “But the woman”, she pondered.

    “What about the woman?” He snapped.

    She was so close to it now that her nose was almost touching it, giving him a spectacular view of her body. She was very nicely made for all her other imperfections.

    “She is all wrong for the time that it is supposed to be. This style of beauty wasn't in fashion at the time. It almost looks as if someone had taken a modern woman and then had her painted in the old style to fake it”.

    He snorted, that exactly what Lionel had done.

    “And distorted it”.

    “Get away from that”, he demanded storming over to her and pulling her back by the arm.

    “What the fuck is wrong with you? I can look at an image if I want”, she attempted to yank her arm out of his grip but was unable to. It was the reason she hadn’t tried brute force before; she knew that she would lose against him. She didn’t want to be weak, but she would not be mistreated and said the only thing that she thought think of to stop him, as pathetic as it sounded, even to her own ears. “Touch me again and I'll tell Lionel”.

    “Try it”, he growled, dragging her to him so that their noses were touching. She wasn't going to talk about his mother like that. She had not been ‘distorted’.

    The lights flicked on. They both blinked, temporarily blinded by the sudden chance before turning to see who was there.

    “Oh, Mr Luthor, Mrs Luthor”, one of the security guards said, sounding shocked as he fixed his gaze on his shoes.

    Lex released his captive with a cruel sneer. “Thompson”, he beckoned over his security guard, “Mrs Luthor”, he drawled her name, “is searching for the library apparently. Make sure that she finds it, and stops skulking around in the dark”. And with that, he left.

    Mrs Luthor glowered at his back.






    Chapter Five

    The following morning, Lex sauntered down the stairs whistling a jaunty tune. He was in a better mood than he had been for days. Whilst it still bugged him that he had not solved the mystery of the interloper, it hardly mattered any more; he had something on her. Once his father was informed of her behaviour from the night before, she would be out. This was to be the last breakfast they ever shared together.

    The tune - which just happened to be Ding Dong the Witch is Dead - faltered slightly as he entered the dining room. Logically he knew that his mother’s portrait would not have been replaced over night, but seeing it missing still bothered him more than it should have. He continued to expel air with renewed zeal as he knew that it would vex his father.

    He glanced from his irritated sire to his new wife, anxious to watch her squirm in the wake of her demise. As always she was small and pretty, an air of innocence and nervousness around her which made him want to burst out laughing.

    She was loveliness itself mixed with a manipulative heart, it was a pity really that they were on opposite sides, she would have been a valuable ally. Alas it was not to be, fate had dictated that she was to be his enemy and now she would meet her end.

    “Good morning Father. Chloe”, he smiled at ends of the table, including everyone in his apparent good mood.

    Chloe looked a little perplexed and just nodded at him.

    Taking this as an invitation to address his conversation solely to her, Lex took his seat in the middle and enquired politely, “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

    “Yes”, she agreed, her tone a little unsure as she looked over at her husband for support. This new ‘happy’ Lex made her more nervous than the angry one every had. She hoped that Lionel might give her some clue as to his son’s intentions but discovered that his eyes were trained on said son.

    “Glad to see that you have got over your childish fit of jealously Lex”, the patriarch drawled.

    “Absolutely”, he shot his father a brittle smile, “you can’t imagine how much better I feel”.

    “Not that I am not glad to hear that but might we know what this change in attitude can be ascribed to?”

    “Wondering how much you can sell it for by the ounce?” Chloe enquired sweetly.

    “Come come by dear, charity”, Lionel rebuked her gently.

    “They do say that it begins at home”, Lex looked at her meaningfully. “How do you like your new home?”

    “I believe that you were going inform us why you appear to be high”, she answered his question with one of her own.

    Lionel didn’t snort with laughter - that would have been far too undignified -, but he came close to it.

    “Ah yes, I think that it is just the benefits of a good nights sleep. Did you both sleep well?” He asked, knowing that Chloe, at least, had not.

    “Hardly something you ask a bride and bridegroom Lex”, Lionel said with an easy laugh and lecherous look which made the bile rise up in Lex’s throat. He really was a perverted old bastard.

    Chloe was blushing, more fiercely than one would have thought necessary.

    “No, I suppose not”, he smiled, privately wondering if she had ever had any formal training as an actress. “So, what topic of conversation would you prefer? Do you like the new house?”

    “It is very nice”, Chloe answered him primly.

    “I’ve told Chloe that she can change it however she likes”, Lionel expounded and caught his son’s eye, there was a definite note of challenge there and Lex felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest. He had never cared for he house, never considered it to be his family home but the idea that every vestige of his mother was going to be eradicated angered him so greatly that he wanted to leap across the table and strangle his father with his own bare hands. He restrained himself, however, reminding himself of his plan and that Chloe would soon be gone.

    “Quite. So, perhaps we should discuss the changes you want to make? Is it much bigger than what you are used to?” His tone indicated that he knew that she did not come from money.

    “No”, she stabbed a piece of something on her plate and ate it without much noticing what it was.

    He raised an eyebrow, she was lying.

    “Buckingham palace was a little bigger than this place, wasn’t it Lionel?”

    She was not only lying, she was making fun of him. As he had guessed, his father was of no help.

    Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed before fixing them on her son in law, “This place is bigger than most houses, yes Lex. But size isn’t everything”.

    “I wouldn't know”. Lex answered automatically, hoping to embarrass her. It didn’t work. It was with the sweetest of smiles that she enquired, “Runs in the family, does it?” He didn’t dare look back over at his father but he knew that he was smiling, he felt sick.

    “So, you are not from a ....

    “Why so interested?” She demanded, a little defensively.

    “Stop peppering her with questions Lex”, Lionel’s warning tone travelled over to his son.

    “Just trying to get to know the new addition to our close knit, loving family”. His sarcasm was not appreciated, but she refused to roll her eyes. He tried, she had wanted to discuss it the night before after all. “Shall we discuss art then?”

    “Art?” Lionel sounded surprised, “Well, at least a little of the culture I’ve always tried to instil into you seem to be paying off. What ‘art’ is it that you would like to discuss in particular son? Cartoons? That ninja fairy again?”

    “Warrior Angel”, Lex corrected him automatically.

    He could feel two sets of eyes boring into him - his father’s disappointed mocking ones from behind -, her softer but shocked ones fixed on his face. He bristled, he didn’t care what either of them thought but he was just a comic book for God’s sake. It was perfectly natural that he would like them, he wasn't the one who should be feeling embarrassed. “No, I was thinking that we should discuss Renaissance art. You like that, right Chloe?” He finished this suggestion with a smirk as a spark of panic flashed through her eyes.

    Lex opened his mouth to launch a verbal assault when one of the maids entered to take the mostly uneaten plates of fruit away and serve the hot breakfast. He could wait a few minutes, he kept his eyes trained on his prey watching as she became steadily more uneasy. He smirked. He had her on the run. Or so he thought.

    “I think that we have had enough conversation for now.” Lionel announced and they ate in silence, although Chloe pushed her food around her plate more than anything else and then almost bolted from the room under the excuse of having a phone call to make.

    “Well Dad, I think that I have some news you would like to hear”, Lex said, casually tossing his napkin into the table. The moment had come.

    “Is that so son?” Lionel inquired mildly, as he stood up and stretch his back out before ambling his way over to his first born.

    “Yes, I ...”

    “Well, before you do I have a little piece o f advice for you Lex”, his father came over and placed his hand on his shoulder before leaning down, “I would think very carefully before you consider harassing my wife again”.

    Lex stared at his father in shock. What the hell had the bitch told him?

    ~*~

    “You look tired”, Lionel informed his wife as he woke up.

    “You are very sweet”, she teased him.

    “You are, of course, as lovely as ever”, he informed her as he propped himself up on his elbows to hover over her before pecking her on the lips.

    “You’re not too bad looking yourself”, she murmured as she worried her lower lip.

    “What’s wrong?” He asked simply.

    “It’s ... It’s nothing”, she said, unconvincingly.

    “Chloe”, his tone was edged with warning.

    “I don’t want to tell you”, she said in a voice which barely verged on a whisper.

    ‘Well, at least she isn’t actually denying that there is anything wrong any more’, Lionel thought to himself. “I’m your husband sweetheart, you should tell me everything. Do you think that I might have something more important to think about than you?”

    “No”, she responded meekly, although considering that he was a billionaire, business tycoon, with thousands of people in his empty and possible plans for world domination, the real answer was probably yes.

    “No, that’s right”, he rubbed his nose against hers before giving her another kiss on the lips. “So why won’t you tell me?”

    “Because”, she start, “you have done so much for me, and you are so kind, and I don’t want you to think that I’m unappreciative”, her eyes grew wide and earnest.

    “You don’t have to be any of those things”, he assured her, “and I like protecting you”.

    “Well, I suppose that it was just everything. The wedding, the move, the new surroundings”, she tried ot shrug but it was difficult given their position, “ I couldn’t sleep”.

    “But there was more to it than that, I take it?” He prompted, stroking her hair.

    She nodded hesitantly.

    “What is it?” His voice was so soft, so warm, that in that moment it didn’t seem as if he could possibly ever hurt her and yet she still seemed to have problems getting the words out and Lionel felt a hot possessive desire to protect her welling up inside him, only slightly mingled with annoyance at her hesitance.

    “Well”, she started, thinking that her throat might actually crack, “I wanted something to read and I went down to the library, or what I thought was the library”, she broke off.

    “Did you get lost again?”

    “Yes”, she nodded, “but that’s not why I couldn’t go to sleep afterwards”.

    “What happened?” His jaw tensed.

    “No, forget it, I shouldn’t”, she made to slip out from under his arm and get out of bed.

    “Chloe”, he pressed her down gently, “you are not leaving this bed until you tell me what happened”. Her movement had caused her arm to be shown, where Lex had grabbed her after the picture comment.

    “Lex followed me”, she admitted staring up at him with large watery eyes.

    Lionel’s gaze grew dark and menacing. She didn’t think that she had ever been so afraid of him before in her life. He gave the distinct impression of being able to rip someone’s heart out and devour it whole.

    “He didn’t hurt me, but ... But”, her eyes filled with tears. “He wasn’t very nice. I don’t know why he hates me so much. I don’t know what I did”.

    “There there”, Lionel comforted her, rolling over onto his back and pulling her along with him so that she was nestled against his chest. “It isn’t you, it is him. He is just an unhappy boy but don’t you worry I will talk to him. He will behave better from now on”, he promised.

    Chloe cuddled up close to him. Turning her head on its side, she saw their reflection in the mirror on her dressing table. She looked sad and meek, everything she had been hoping for. She would have convinced any audience. Even Lionel Luthor.

    ~*~

    Chloe strolled along one of the long winding corridors which she was fairly certain led towards the kitchen, she had made her phone call and she was fairly hungry now, she hadn’t been able to eat with Lex staring at her like that over the breakfast table. She was just wondering what she should have when out of no where, Lex appeared.

    “God”, she placed her hand over her heart, “you almost gave a heart attack”.

    “Well”, he appeared to be considering that for a second, “I suppose that would be one way of dealing with you”. Her eyes narrowed and her hand returned to her side, she had never punched anyone yet but she was fairly certain that she could manage it. He took a step towards her and she definitely considered it. No, she was being silly, he wasn’t going to try to physically hurt her. Not here at least.

    “What do you want Lex?” She demanded.

    “Just to make one thing crystal clear”, his voice was low and soft but unmistakable. “You might be able to fool my father for a little while, but not me”.

    She blinked. Looking like she had been slapped in the face. And for a second, just a split second, he wasn’t so sure. This woman was even more dangerous than he had thought.

  8. #68

    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Posted 29th October 2013

    Definitely still reading this! Little confused now though, I thought Chloe was the victim but is she playing Lionel?

  9. #69
    NS Senior Member Senior Member HotCrossedBunny's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Posted 29th October 2013

    Mwhahahahah!!! My evil plan is working. Plus, thanks for reading. There are going to be layers within layers of manipulation by the time that we get to chapter 60 something ... If the writing goes right. Are you up for it?

  10. #70
    Spunky Chick Senior Member hfce's Avatar
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    Re: The Myth (NC-17) Posted 29th October 2013

    I almost threw up with the Lionel and Chloe sex scene but I got through it. I want to know why she gave up her virginity for that scum bag.
    "Everyone seems normal until you get to know them. "

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