Everyone sat up, taking even closer notice. The man really had masterful timing and delivery.
When he’d made sure everyone was hanging on his every breath, he went on, “I don’t need to tell you that your team is composed of some of the most avant-garde researchers of our time. I have no doubt you’re well aware of your individual and collective worth. I certainly am best equipped to know it. I’m still suffering from the very sizable hole in my assets it took to acquire your services.”
As chuckles of pleasure spread through the room, Lili’s hackles rose higher. What was wrong with her colleagues? They were proud they had a price? Sure, he pretended “acquiring their services” had taken a toll on him, but they all knew this was untrue. The man was worth over a dozen billion dollars!
Then he spoke again, dousing her new spurt of irritation.
“The methods and results you’ve contributed to the medical community working with limited funding and resources is nothing short of astounding. Each and every one of you is exactly the kind of unique-approach, enterprising scientist that Balducci covets. As you’ll see from the documents you have in your possession now, each of you has been assigned to a project I believe you’re most suited for, where you’ll have anything you could possibly want to make progress in it, and hopefully reach a breakthrough. And let me be clear. By anything, I do mean anything. My assistants will be available to provide any of your needs. But my own door is always open if what you need is too ambitious, as I hope all your work with me will be.”
By the time he finished, she was gaping again.
The man was overpowering. Velvet over steel over an enigma. Not only the most magnificent male she’d ever seen, but the most persuasive, too.
What he’d outlined was every scientist’s fairy tale come true. Unlimited resources to be as adventurous as they wished, caring only about the work, while funding and feasibility were being taken care of by dedicated experts with access to bottomless pockets and powered by limitless ambition. His.
He’d almost convinced even her. Almost.
But if she had to fight his hypnosis with all she had, she had no doubt the others were already in his thrall. A darting glance noted the glassy eyes of those who no longer questioned that his decreed path was the one to tread. Even Brian had a budding hero-worship expression on his face.
“That would all be well and good, if you were offering to fund our projects, not yours.”
It wasn’t until everyone swung to gape at her as if she’d thrown a grenade on the table that she realized she’d spoken.
And she did it again, without intending to.
“In your R & D career, you’ve consistently ignored basic research, what has produced centuries of history-changing breakthroughs, spawned whole industries and disciplines in medicine. You’ve also ignored the kind of research we do, of untrendy ailments that don’t provoke public or market interest. You’ve overlooked necessary research for a jumble of popular, feel-good, cash-cow fields like the cosmetic and weight-loss industries.”
The elusive smile that had been hovering on his lips suddenly froze.
All her blood followed suit.
Her heart thudding, she wished for some cosmic rewind button so she could erase what she’d just said.
Why had she spoken at all? She’d already found out her worst-case scenario would come to pass and they’d be herded wherever he wished. She didn’t do posturing confrontations. She knew her power, or rather, lack thereof. So why hadn’t she kept her big mouth shut and just tendered her resignation in silence?
Before she could draw another breath into her constricted lungs, he turned his head in her direction and impaled her on the lasers he had for eyes.
And all she could think was...uh-oh.
Lili’s heart plummeted as the world emptied of everything but this overwhelming entity who had her in his crosshairs.
Before she obeyed the flight mechanisms that screamed for her to run, tossing a “Don’t bother firing me, I quit” over her shoulder, Antonio Balducci started talking, pinning her down even more.
“As my reconstructive surgeries do incorporate an aesthetic element, I do invest in the development and manufacture of all aesthetic disciplines and products.”
His voice. That perfectly modulated melody of cultured lethality. A glacial sound of hair-raising beauty. Pouring all over her like a freezing/searing deluge.
Oh, crap. She hadn’t thought this through. Hadn’t thought at all. That bitter outburst had just...well, burst out of her. What if he got verbally combative?
She’d flay him right back, that was what. Before she ran.
But before she snatched the next breath, still transfixing her with that impossibly blue stare, he went on, serene and far more menacing because of it, “As you’ll see from the info I provided, only twenty percent of my operations focus on the ‘popular, feel-good, cash-cow’ side of my specialty.”
Whoa. He was quoting what she’d said. When she’d thought he’d only realized she’d been talking—and criticizing him openly—just before her tirade ended.
But he hadn’t only heard her, he’d memorized what she’d said. He’d even sounded like her when he’d quoted her. She had a feeling he could recite everything she’d said word for word. Which shouldn’t surprise her. It only substantiated her theory of him being some sort of post–human being.
His eyes bored into her, making her feel he’d drilled a hole into her skull and was probing her brain. “The remaining eighty percent of my operations revolve around the more relevant sides of my field of interest, and those of others. Problem is those don’t generate media coverage or capture the market’s imagination. This is just the state of the world. I didn’t invent it.”
“No, you just exploit it.”
At her volley, he tilted his head, as if plunging deeper into her mind. Then those chiseled lips twitched and her stuttering heart burst into a stumbling gallop.
“The pursuit of luxury products tends to trump necessary ones and ‘cash cows’ are such for a reason. Alas, human beings will be human beings. I assure you, I have no role in their condition. So what would you have me do? Not provide them with what they wish for? Judge their foibles and let someone else reap the benefits of catering to them? Benefits I eventually put to uses you might deem to approve of?”
Was he teasing her? Nah. He couldn’t be.
“And aesthetic concerns are not frivolous luxuries. No matter how you view them, they do greatly affect people’s psychological and mental health. I don’t morally grade what people need or consider worth paying for. Who’s to say that products that reverse the signs of aging aren’t as important to a substantial percentage of people as depression treatment? And would you view me and my business any kinder if you knew I also research the latter? And am involved in actual aging reversal research, too?”
Okay, he was teasing her. Poking fun at her, more like, making her criticism sound misinformed and holier-than-thou, or at the very least naive. And seeming to draw appreciation from everyone in the room while at it, adding to the unhealthy awe he’d already garnered.
He only made her feel like a hedgehog with its bristles standing on end. Mostly because she found her own lips twitching, too.
So, the man had a sense of humor. Had he come complete with it, or had he had it grafted as another weapon in his overflowing arsenal? Or did he realize the benefits of manipulating lesser beings with the illusion of ease and indulgence, and had a subroutine written into his program that he could activate