Chapter 22: The Dorian Collective

The Merging, Part 1

“A commoner like Bjørn Nordent has no business dealing with people like us,” said Demar. 

“Perhaps, but lest we forget,” answered Akal, “we were once just as lost as he proved to be.”

“There won’t be repercussions, if that’s what you’re worried about,” a voice from the end of the convening table said. “The bank has assured me they will absorb whatever damages arise. Nordent officially died of a heart attack.”

The voice belonged to a man carrying himself with a distasteful air of entitlement, arching his chin a little too high, off hand resting blithely atop nineteenth century oak. The room’s light caught the Italian leather-banded Piaget wrist watch straddling his wrist and bounced it back into the room. He leaned forward to sport a handsome crooked smile. 

“Don’t all thank me at once,” he said. 

“Where have you been, Matthew?” Demar asked. “We haven’t seen you in–”

“Three years, twenty-seven days, four hours and,” he paused, turning the watch back to his eyes, “nine minutes.”