Hannah's Chance (Chapter 12) (fm:sex at work, 5995 words) [12/12] show all parts

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Rivera frowned slightly. "How so?"

Hannah leaned forward, her tone measured but confident. "They're taking on what looks like volume risk - the risk that you produce less than expected. But they don't do that for free. They build it into their pricing, often charging a premium that makes your per-unit cost higher than it would be under a fixed lease. You end up paying more over time for the illusion of fairness."

He looked skeptical. "But it still protects us if production is low."

"True," she said, nodding. "But it punishes you the moment production stabilizes. You lose the upside. A fixed lease means you lock in your costs and keep every extra tonne of lithium as profit. Pay-as-you-produce means you share your success - forever."

Rivera's eyes narrowed, his confidence in his position clearly dissipating. "You're saying the investor always wins."

"Exactly. They win whether you produce well or not. If the mine underperforms, their premium cushions them. If it thrives, they capture additional financial reward. You end up overpaying for your own success."

The minister stood, walked to the window, and looked out over the rooftops of La Paz, seemingly deep in thought. Eventually he turned back. "Very well, Señorita Hartwell. I agree to your initiative - in principle. But I'll need specifics before making any commitments."

"Of course, Minister," Hannah replied. "I'll ask the consortium to prepare a detailed proposal and submit it to you directly. It'll cover all points of the pilot scheme together with the financials for the subsequent expansion of the DLE technology. Let's see what you can build together."

As she arrived back at her hotel, Hannah felt a thrill at having attended a meeting which could shape government policy and influence international investment. For someone who had been abruptly dismissed from her employment less than six weeks ago, she felt it was a dizzying achievement, but at the same time she knew her work wasn't done yet. She still had to prepare her final assessment and fully outline the agreement she'd made with Rivera.

She typed slowly, knowing that she had to get this report exactly right. She laid out again that water was the key issue. Traditional evaporation ponds used massive amounts of water, which had led Indigenous rights groups to file lawsuits against the mines. She then explained that there was a technological fix - Direct Lithium Extraction (DLE). This cut water use by up to ninety percent.

This was real opportunity. The investment required was considerable, but it would provide much more efficient lithium production whilst protecting the land and the people. Investors would have to accept the state taking a fifty-one percent stake, but that would still mean a good return, which would be enhanced by leasing the DLE units to COMIBOL, the state mining company.

She noted infrastructure concerns, about poor roads and unreliable electricity, but these were already being addressed. She then outlined the pilot scheme agreed with Rivera and Reyes, moving on to the plan to scale DLE nationally, for which the investors would get a period of exclusivity. She concluded by saying that Minister of Mines Rivera was expecting their full proposal.

Hannah read the document several times. She felt happy with it, but decided to send it to El Cóndor for a second opinion. He found no fault with it, but suggested a few additions, such as including the fact that the water currently used by the mines was fifteen times the area's annual rainfall. Hannah was grateful and thanked him for all the assistance he'd given her over the last three weeks.

She made the suggested additions and clicked send. With nothing left to do in Bolivia, she booked a flight home. That evening, allowing herself some time to relax, she realised something unexpected. She felt... invested. Not in consultancy work or business dealings, but in the idea that her actions in Bolivia were helping to solve a major problem and could improve people's lives.

The following day dawned with no reply from Rossi. She checked out of her hotel, finding the desk clerk quite talkative. "Did you know that La Paz is the highest altitude capital city in the world?"

"Yes I read that when I was researching Bolivia," Hannah replied, handing over her keycard.

Her phone buzzed with a text. Alessandro Rossi. "Report received."

Hannah boarded her La Paz to Bogota flight, the first of four flights she would take to get home. The text's brevity had been gnawing at her and still was. Rossi's usual flamboyance had evaporated. Had she overstepped? Her assessment demanded eye-watering capital - millions for unproven tech in a politically volatile country. She'd promised Rivera and Reyes meaningful results and water justice. One misstep on her part could unravel it all.

The next morning she arrived in Fort Lauderdale. Just one more flight and she'd be home. There was still nothing further from Rossi, but she had a call from Maria, inviting her to a Christmas party. She readily agreed to attend, very much looking forward to seeing her again.

It was only when she was finally home that Rossi made contact. "Good afternoon, Hannah," he said. "Your Bolivian report has... stirred interest."

Hannah gripped her phone tighter. "Interest?"

"The consortium's chairman read your assessment," Rossi replied, his voice unnervingly flat. "He's already organizing the proposal to Rivera, although the investment required is significantly more than had been anticipated."

Hannah paced her living room, the silence stretching taut. "But the opportunity justifies it. The water savings alone—"

"The chairman agrees," Rossi interrupted. "But raising the amount of money required is going to be a challenge."

Hannah sank onto her sofa, the worn leather sighing under her. "Is this going to delay the proposal?".

"No, the proposal's going ahead. It's the implementation that could be delayed. Assuming Rivera accepts, of course."

Hearing the words "if Rivera accepts," Hannah pictured the minister's shrewd eyes scanning consortium terms, weighing political fallout against water savings. "What's the chairman's timescale? For raising the funds?"

"Six months," Rossi said. "If Rivera signs within thirty days."

"That long?" said Hannah, dismayed.

"We'll make it quicker if we can. I'll keep you posted on progress."

Rossi's abrupt hang-up left Hannah staring at her phone's black screen. She felt a mixture of relief and elation at the news that her report had been received so positively, but at the same time felt despair that it was going to take such a long time for the project to advance.

Six months? She'd achieved so much in Bolivia in just one week in the country, and now she had to wait six months for her vision to be realized. Her fingers drummed the sofa's armrest, tracing the cracked leather like a map. Rivera needs this now. Reyes needs this now. Quispe's people need this now. Surely there was a way forward that would take less than six months.

Maria's Christmas party invitation glowed on her calendar. Networks, Hannah thought. Shirley hadn't just charmed investors, she'd woven them into a tapestry of mutual benefit. She started going through the contacts she'd made in the last five months, running them through her mind. One name blinked like a beacon. Klaus Steiner.

Hannah opened her laptop and searched online. Klaus Steiner was easy to find, a prominent Swiss banker and well known authority on Renaissance manuscripts. She immediately typed him a message. "I may have an opportunity in sustainable lithium mining, promising long term returns, but requiring swift capital. Can we talk?"

Steiner's reply came the following morning. "You have my attention, Ms. Hannah. Call me."

His voice crackled through her phone speaker as she paced her kitchen, coffee cooling on the counter. "Swift capital? Define swift."

Hannah was uncertain on how to reply. "How about thirty days?" she said hopefully, tracing condensation rings on the laminate. "The consortium I'm dealing with needs six months to raise the full funds. That's way too long."

Steiner chuckled softly. "Six months? That's durn tooting slow. For the right opportunity? Three weeks."

Hannah gripped the edge of her countertop. "Three weeks? You're serious?"

"Deadly," Steiner replied. "But only if the numbers bleed green. Send me the consortium's projections and the pilot specs. I'll run them through my models."

Hannah immediately messaged Rossi, asking him for the figures that the consortium had come up with. On receiving the requested information, she forwarded it to Steiner, along with a copy of her final assessment, to give him the complete picture. She imagined Steiner's analysts dissecting water reduction ratios and political risk premiums, but because of the time difference she knew she wouldn't hear anything back until after the weekend.

It was Tuesday when her phone buzzed with Steiner's call. "Your Bolivia numbers sing, Hannah. Water savings? Divine. Political exposure? Manageable. But the consortium's financing structure? Amateur hour. They're pricing risk like accountants counting paperclips."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," Steiner said, "they've bundled political volatility premiums into interest rates like amateurs stuffing attachers into a medieval manuscript. Crude. Wasteful. My team proposes securitizing water savings as standalone assets. Quantify every liter preserved - turn ecological gains into tradeable bonds. Investors salivate over ESG derivatives now."

"Would Rivera's government accept that? They want sovereignty, not Wall Street slicing their rivers into derivatives."

Steiner snorted. "Sovereignty is expensive. My bonds guarantee upfront cash for Reyes' pilot - no six months begging tour. The consortium gets paid when Bolivia gets wet." Hannah heard papers shuffle. "Your assessment mentions that they need funds for DLE units. I'll provide bridge financing at nine percent interest, secured against future water bond proceeds. Consortium repays me when bonds launch."

"Rivera would need to approve these bonds," Hannah countered.

"He'll approve," Steiner replied. "Because you'll frame it as Bolivia owning the water metrics - the bonds just monetize their stewardship. Like carbon credits, but wetter." His tone shifted, velvet over steel. "Now, my fee. Three percent of the bridge financing."

"The consortium has to approve that. If they do approve it, when can Rivera see the proposal?"

"Friday, assuming the consortium's ready by then," Steiner replied. "They would need to sign the agreement, but we can do that digitally if necessary, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Hannah ended the call, adrenaline humming. She forwarded Steiner's terms to Rossi immediately, adding: "Bridge financing proposal. Requires consortium approval and Rivera's bond sign-off. Can present jointly Friday?" Her thumb pressed send.

Rossi's reply arrived ninety minutes later. "Consortium chair not interested in those terms. A three percent fee is too high for a nine percent loan."

Hannah stared at her phone, the leather sofa suddenly feeling like cold marble. This was a setback, but she couldn't allow her plan to crumble. She texted Rossi again. "Chairman's shortsighted. Steiner's bridge financing gets the pilot immediately. If we have to wait six months a lot could change in that time. Fee is negligible against upside. Re-engage him."

She had to wait until the following day for a reply. "The fee might be acceptable for the right deal. Nine percent isn't the right deal."

Hannah considered that perhaps she ought to leave the consortium alone now and let them plot their own course in Bolivia. Her final assessment was with them, her task accomplished, her mission fulfilled. However, she felt so personally invested in the matter, and had come to care so much about the outcome, that she couldn't bring herself to just walk away.

Her phone buzzed with a text. Maria Wallington. "Christmas party on Friday - still coming? Your old friend Alex will be here." Hannah hesitated, then typed. "Yes. Tell Alex to prep lithium-water derivatives." Maria's party became suddenly critical. Not for eggnog, but because Alex might be able to help.

Maria's penthouse glittered like a quartz geode split open, all sharp angles and refractive surfaces. Hannah arrived early, clutching a folder of Steiner's terms, and was warmly greeted by Maria. "It's good to see you and I'm pleased that things are going well for you."

Alex materialized beside the ice sculpture, a glacial abstraction leaking cold vapor, and after greeting him and giving him a brief rundown of her Bolivia project, Hannah handed him the folder. "Alex, I know this is a party, but I'd appreciate it if you could take a look at this."

His verdict came quite quickly. "The bond structure is homonymic genius - water metrics monetized as cleansers for ESG portfolios. But consortium lawyers will slurp it dry. I suggest water metrics securitized as 'Ecological Stewardship Units.' Legally distinct from river ownership. The Bolivian government can't resist."

Hannah gripped her champagne flute tightly. "Can you put that into writing for me, please? Draft something over the weekend? I'm in a hurry."

Alex leaned against the ice sculpture, condensation bleeding onto his sleeve. "I'll virtualize Bolivia's watersheds into ESG derivatives. Quantify every liter saved as a tradeable bond." He tapped the folder. "But Rivera won't accept Wall Street slicing his rivers. So we frame it as Bolivia owning the metrics. Investors just lease the environmental impact."

"What about the bridging finance? The consortium rejected it."

"Steiner's nine percent loan? The interest rate is reasonable, but a three percent fee is high. Ask him if he's willing to reduce it to get the business."

"And if he won't?"

"Then tell him you need a better interest rate. To justify the fee."

They were interrupted by Maria, who bore a disapproving look. "I hope you're not going to spend the whole evening talking business."

Hannah smiled tightly. "Just wrapping up." She turned back to Alex. "Can you draft the ESG framework over the weekend for me? I'll handle Steiner."

Alex nodded, pocketing the folder. "Bolivia's patrimony obsession is the leverage point. Frame the bonds as the country's stewardship legacy - not Wall Street speculation."

Maria steered Hannah toward the terrace where laughter burst like champagne bubbles. She accepted a smoked salmon canapé, its delicate saltiness sharpening her thoughts. She realized there was nothing more she could do about Bolivia that night, so she decided to relax for a change and enjoy the party. She tried the eggnog and it met with her approval.

On Monday morning, Hannah switched on her phone to call Steiner, but as she did so it buzzed with a text from Rossi. "The chairman likes your plan, just not the terms. Will look for something similar."

Hannah felt her optimism evaporate. She dialed Steiner immediately. "They're shopping around."

Steiner's sigh crackled like static. "Fools. This window? Narrower than a Bolivian mine shaft. What do they want?"

"They want a lower fee," Hannah said, pacing her apartment. "Or better rates." She paused at the window, watching commuters swarm like ants below. "But time is the real currency here."

Steiner made a soft clicking sound with his tongue. "Fee reduction? Complicated. Because I'm not the only party involved. I have partners."

"Partners?" Hannah traced the cold windowpane with a fingertip. Outside, December rain slicked the pavement. "What partners?"

"I'm not putting up all of the capital myself. I have silent partners."

Hannah froze mid-pace, her reflection ghosting the rain-streaked glass. "Silent partners? Who?"

Steiner's pause stretched thin. "Confidentiality is paramount."

Hannah pressed her forehead against the chilled glass. "Without transparency, I can't sell this to the consortium. Names or no deal."

The silence stretched even thinner this time. Eventually Steiner spoke. "I'll introduce you. You'll have to come to Zurich."

Hannah arrived at Steiner's private bank two days later. She got there just as it was closing, but Steiner explained that an after-hours meeting had been arranged for good reason. "My partners prefer to be discreet. It enables them to stay off the record if they choose."

He led her along a corridor and up some stairs. "These people don't usually meet with clients, but I told them that meeting Hannah Hartwell was... different. That you'd make it worth their while. It's important that you don't let me down."

Hannah had little time to reflect on these words, as Steiner opened the door to a conference room overlooking Lake Zurich, where two men were waiting.

The first wore a charcoal suit sharp enough to slice paper. "Viktor Haller," he said, extending a hand.

"Lucien Virel," said the second, also extending a hand, a man dressed more casually, without a tie.

Hannah shook their hands firmly, her mind racing. Haller's firm was notorious for aggressive acquisitions, and Virel ran a boutique fund specializing in geopolitical arbitrage. Both were sharks - exactly the sort Rivera feared. Steiner had brought predators to the table.

"Hannah, you understand discretion," Steiner began, pouring mineral water into cut-crystal glasses. "Viktor provides the capital backbone. Lucien structures the political risk insulation."

Haller's gaze lingered on a folder before him. "Your Bolivia numbers intrigue me, but you have reservations about the water bonds?"

Hannah realized he was looking the document that Alex had drafted. "I just want to be sure that the consortium accepts the idea," she said. "I had an analyst look through it."

"Clever," said Haller, studying the document. "The concern being that Rivera won't tolerate foreign ownership structures." His Swiss-German accent clipped each syllable. "No matter. We'll register the bond issuer in La Paz. Bolivian directors. Local auditors."

Virel leaned forward. "The real art lies in the trigger mechanisms. If protestors breach Reyes' mine perimeter? Bond payments pause. If Quispe endorses the project publicly? Coupon rates improve. We embed incentives directly into the term sheet." He slid a tablet toward Hannah. Onscreen, hydrological maps pulsed with algorithmic projections. "Every liter saved becomes a financial instrument."

Hannah scanned the variables - evaporation coefficients, aquifer recharge rates, indigenous consultation clauses. Haller's structural rigor fused with Virel's political acumen created something terrifyingly elegant. "Rivera will call this financial colonialism," she warned.

Virel smiled faintly. "Then we gift wrap it. Solar-powered DLE units reduce water extraction by up to ninety percent. That's not exploitation - it's ecological salvation." He tapped the tablet, highlighting a clause. "Revenue sharing: five percent of bond proceeds fund Quispe's water stewardship councils."

He flicked on to another page, displaying a complex lattice of equations. "Rivera grants Bolivia sovereign rights to certify water savings. We tokenize those certifications as blockchain backed assets - tradeable instantly. Investors buy Bolivia's ecological stewardship, not its rivers."

Haller added, his voice glacial, "The bridge financing fee remains three percent. But we'll reduce the interest to seven-point-five. Non-negotiable. Rivera gets his pilot now, or Bolivia bleeds dry waiting."

Hannah kept her voice level. "Even seven-point-five feels punitive when sovereign bonds trade at five."

"Risk demands premium. Bolivia isn't Switzerland." Haller's eyes flickered, certain of his argument.

Steiner intervened smoothly. "Hannah's assessment flagged water scarcity as the critical path. Delays kill projects - and communities downstream." He paused, letting the human cost sink in. "Our terms offer speed. Rivera gets his pilot funded next week. Reyes gets his DLE units installed before the dry season peaks. Quispe gets his councils funded immediately. What's Rivera's alternative? Six months of begging while aquifers drain?"

Virel leaned back, tapping his tablet. "We can sweeten it. Add a royalty kicker - if the pilot reduces water usage below projections, Bolivia gets an extra two percent of bond proceeds."

"Bolivia isn't the problem," said Hannah. "It's the consortium. They want to shop around for the best deal, however long that takes. To push this through immediately I need you to accept a fee of one percent."

Haller slammed his palm on the table. "Absurd! We carry the risk—"

Virel raised a calming hand. "Consider the optics, Viktor. One percent signals partnership, not predation." He turned to Hannah, his gaze suddenly softer, no longer analytical. "I think we should at least consider it."

Haller's knuckles tightened on the table edge. "We're going to let Hannah walk out of here with the deal of the century, just because she asked for it?"

Virel kept his eyes on Hannah. "She's not asking. She's telling us how this closes." He slid the tablet aside. "One percent fee. Seven-point-five interest. And we keep the royalty kicker. But two conditions. The consortium has only forty-eight hours to accept, and Hannah bonds with us tonight to seal the deal. Agreed?"

Hannah's heart hammered against her ribs. Forty-eight hours? Not enough time. A bonding ritual? That meant what?

She realized all eyes were on her. "Forty-eight hours is impossible. They'll need at least a week for legal review."

Virel didn't blink. "Forty-eight hours. It's the only way to get this tied up in time for Christmas, when our liquidity window closes.

Hannah's gaze flickered to Steiner, who remained impassive. Haller's knuckles whitened around his water glass. The silence thickened, broken only by the hum of Zurich's winter wind against the glass. She decided that since the consortium were no longer going to choke on the fee, they could swallow the timeline too.

"Forty-eight hours," she agreed, her voice steady.

"Well I think you've got huge audacity even asking for these terms," said Haller. "I can't believe we're taking you seriously."

Virel chuckled softly. "Audacity is precisely why we're entertaining this proposal. Hannah understands Bolivia's windows are closing faster than Swiss vaults at midnight."

Haller scowled but gave a curt nod. Steiner nodded too. "Done," said Virel, tapping his keyboard. "I'm emailing you the revised term sheet," he said, looking at Hannah, "forty-eight hours starts now."

Hannah was elated at the terms she'd secured, but felt the clock ticking like a physical weight. She immediately sent a text to Rossi with the key details of the agreement and a plea to get things moving. She looked up to find that Steiner had produced two bottles of wine.

"Celebration?" Steiner asked, pouring a glass of red for Hannah.

Virel raised his own. "To audacity."

The wine tasted like liquid velvet, rich and slightly smoky. Hannah savored it, feeling the tension in her neck and her shoulders ease, and finding herself able to relax a little. She looked out at Lake Zurich, but it was growing dark now and the lake was fast disappearing from view.

Haller remained stiff-backed, still not entirely happy. "You appear to have secured everything you came for," he said, looking at Hannah.

"Not everything," Hannah replied. "The consortium still has to agree."

Haller took a long sip of his wine. "Don't worry, they will. Rossi has a way with these things." He paused, studying her with unnerving intensity. "But your bonding condition remains. Virel wasn't poetic. He meant something literal."

Hannah froze, the wineglass halfway to her lips. "Literal?"

"Personal," said Virel. "A demonstration that your interests align with ours beyond contracts." His gaze swept over her tailored suit with unsettling appraisal.

Hannah's stomach tightened. This wasn't Rossi's transactional intimacy. This was feudal allegiance.

Virel's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Tonight, you act as party host. And you bind us together more closely than contracts ever could."

Hannah's pulse throbbed in her temples, not knowing what to say. Why hadn't she asked earlier what bonding entailed? She had known what coming to see Steiner could necessitate, but this was something much more than just Steiner and she felt intimidated. She set her wineglass down with a clink. "Define party host," she said, managing to keep her voice steady.

"If you prefer a different term," said Virel, "how about entertainer?"

"Entertainer," she repeated flatly. The word hung like a grenade pin pulled. She'd heard Shirley talk about entertaining and she knew exactly what that had entailed. Facing three sets of expectant eyes, she felt her composure slipping, wondering if there was any way out of this.

Her phone buzzed with a text. Alessandro Rossi. "Well done, Hannah. I'm proud of you."

The words were a lifeline. Rossi's pride, however transactional, anchored her. She felt her control returning and she calmly poured herself more wine. "Entertainer," she said again, her voice much smoother now. "Well you'd better let me know how I can entertain you."

The silence stretched like piano wire. Hannah drank deeply, letting the wine's warmth spread through her limbs. She reflected that she had "entertained" before and used it to her advantage. She would do the same tonight, no matter that there were three of them this time.

"Let's take a better look at you," said Steiner, softly. "That's always a good way to start."

Hannah stood without hesitation. She slowly unbuttoned her jacket, letting it slide off her shoulders onto the chair behind her. The silk blouse came next, pooling at her waist and revealing a silk camisole the color of midnight. She told herself not to show any sign of being weak or uncertain, and present herself to these men as someone assured and confident.

She took a few steps backward, which made it easier to place her blouse on the chair, and the camisole soon followed. Then she stepped out of her kitten heels, the carpet of the conference room plush beneath her feet, and pulled down her tights. Haller's gaze lingered on the curve of her hip, while Virel watched her hands - steady as they undid the clasp of her necklace.

Steiner leaned forward, elbows on the polished mahogany table, watching as Hannah's skirt slithered down her legs, pooling at her ankles. She stepped out of it, leaving only her lace underwear. She stood under the bright, clinical conference room lights, determined to project a calm she didn't entirely feel. "This is just another pitch," she told herself. "The product is me."

She unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She paused for a moment, making them wait for her next move, and then pushed her panties down her legs, stepping out of them. She then stood there motionless, naked under their scrutiny, now waiting for them to make the next move, the silence in the room punctuated only by the faint hum of climate control.

"Move to your left," said Steiner, and Hannah obeyed, the movement taking her further away from the table and into an area of space. "Turn around," he said, and watched as Hannah pivoted slowly. "Again," he said, and Hannah turned a slow circle once more. Steiner and Virel appeared appreciative, but Haller didn't seem so impressed, looking a little impatient.

Haller cleared his throat. "I think it's time for a little more action, don't you?"

Hannah met his gaze without flinching. "What would you like?" Her voice remained steady, betraying none of the adrenaline flooding her veins. This was performance art. Survival.

"As you know, I had some reservations about the deal we struck tonight," he said, getting up. "I'd like you to show some gratitude," he continued, heading toward her. "Make me believe the sacrifice was worth it." He stood in front of her.

Hannah lowered herself gracefully to a kneeling position. She reached out and unfastened his belt. Then the rasp of his zipper echoed sharply in the quiet room. Haller inhaled sharply as her fingers found the fabric beneath and moved beyond it. She leaned forward, her breath warm against his thigh, and her mouth closed over him. Haller's choked gasp was immediate, his hand instinctively tangling in her hair.

"Slow," he commanded, his voice tight. "Make me feel it."

She obeyed, her movements deliberate and unhurried, focusing on technique over enthusiasm. Steiner watched with considerable interest, but still sipped his wine. Virel leaned back, fingers steepled, assessing Hannah's performance like a bench trial.

Haller's grip tightened in her hair, not painful but possessive. Hannah calmly continued with her movements, her mouth working him steadily, and he grunted several times in appreciation.

"Faster now," he suddenly rasped, his hips pushing forward. Hannah adjusted, hollowing her cheeks. A low groan escaped him. She felt the tremor in his thighs, the escalating tension.

"Give us a big finish, Viktor," said Steiner.

Haller abruptly withdrew from her mouth and immediately shuddered before her, his release splashing hotly across her cheek and collarbone. Hannah didn't flinch, and she remained still, letting it ooze slowly down her face, maintaining eye contact until he released her hair.

Steiner drained his glass. "Viktor's gratitude is settled. Now Lucien, your turn."

Virel rose, his eyes on Hannah, still in her kneeling position. "Come here," he said. Hannah got up and walked toward him. "Sit here," he said, pointing at the mahogany surface beside him, and Hannah obliged, perching herself on the edge of the conference room table.

He reached for her breasts, cupping them at first, and then his fingers circled each nipple slowly and deliberately, before pinching hard. Hannah gasped sharply but held still. "You understand," Virel murmured, "this isn't about pleasure. It's about alignment, about bonding."

One of his hands moved behind her back, fingertips tracing the ridge of her spine. His other hand slid between her thighs and his thumb circled her clitoris with clinical precision. "What we're doing now," he murmured, "binds us closer together than contracts ever could."

Hannah thought of her plans for Bolivia's lithium mines. This was the price of those plans. She decided to lie back on the table, her legs apart, a calculated surrender. "Is this better for you?" she asked, her voice low and steady despite the tension coiling in her stomach.

Virel's thumb pressed harder, eliciting another gasp. Then his hand withdrew abruptly, and when he was ready, he stepped right against her. The initial thrust was sharp and deep, forcing another gasp. He quickly settled into a steady rhythm, Hannah gazing at the ceiling tiles.

Steiner had left his seat to get a better view of events, though Haller remained in his chair and lit a cigar. Virel's rhythm now intensified, each thrust jarring Hannah's spine against the unforgiving wood. His breathing quickened and grew ragged, but still he continued to thrust.

Suddenly he withdrew. "Get up," he said urgently, and Hannah raised herself to a sitting position. "Kneel," he said, with the same urgency. Hannah slid off the table onto her knees, the carpet plush beneath them. She looked up at him, knowing what was coming next.

Virel groaned and shook uncontrollably, his release spurting over her chin and throat. Hannah remained still, resisting the temptation to wipe her face, allowing it to drip onto her breasts.

Steiner had watched from a short distance and his gaze was approving. "Now," he said, stepping toward Hannah. "My turn. Stand." Hannah rose smoothly, Virel's release still dripping. He gestured toward the table. "Lie back."

Steiner moved a chair, so he could sit right before her, hands resting on her thighs. "You must understand alignment, Hannah. It isn't about your submission. It's about mutual elevation." His mouth descended on her and he used his tongue expertly, eliciting sharp inhalations.

Hannah thought of Bolivia's lithium-rich salt flats, the Reyes mine waiting for her DLE pilot. What Steiner was doing was merely a transaction to that end. But then he withdrew, and stood, pushing his chair away. Hannah looked up and he pointed to the floor in front of him.

Hannah lowered herself to her knees again. When Steiner was ready, she took him into her mouth and he groaned gently. She focused on her rhythm, steady and deep, her hands resting lightly on his hips. Steiner's fingers tangled in her hair, not forcing, but guiding.

"Good," he murmured. "Very good." Hannah took this as a sign to stick to the rhythm she'd established and continued accordingly. Virel watched closely, refilling his glass. Haller puffed away on his cigar, gradually filling the room with what to Hannah was an acrid stench.

She felt time stretching, but her mouth worked at Steiner patiently, and before too long his breathing became heavier and his fingers tightened in her hair. A low groan escaped him, and he immediately withdrew, his release striking her forehead and cheek in hot streaks.

Hannah remained kneeling, her face now bearing the residue of all three men, though much had dripped onto her shoulders and her breasts. "Alignment complete," she said calmly. The men looked at her, but no one replied, though Steiner handed her a box of tissues.

After cleaning herself with the tissues, Hannah dressed quickly. "Everything's agreed then," she said preparing to leave. "I'll make sure the consortium meets your deadline."

Steiner nodded. "Bolivia moves forward," he said. Virel smiled and raised his glass to her. Haller stubbed out his cigar, wanting to have the last word.

"You've performed well tonight, Ms. Hartwell. You've secured better terms than most people would dare ask for. Let's see what you build with it."

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Hook writes Sun 7 Dec 2025 19:10:

To a financial neophyte, this is fairly transparent. You seem to know what you are doing in this fictional yarn. Looking forward to next installment!

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