Sterling lingered after the others filed out of the boardroom.
"Lolita, any chance I could come to the global summit with you?"
"Any chance you remembered the stack of paperwork in my office?"
"That can wait. I should go. You know—keep an eye on your drinking."
Lolita snorted. "Please. I know my limits. The other night was one slip‑up. I had too much to drink to finish the meeting, big deal."
"Yeah, but you'll be around other rulers, and I'm worried that—"
"That I'll embarrass myself?" She smirked, lifting her wine. "Or is this really about me taking one of my maids? Funny how you suddenly care."
"This isn't about her," Sterling insisted. "I just figured I should go since Jacob's… not thrilled about you attending."
"And what difference would you make?" Lolita arched a brow. "It's not like Jacob is thrilled about any of my staff."
"He doesn't think any of us should be working," Sterling said. "And no one's forcing us. We just… know it's better to stay useful."
"How charming," Lolita murmured. "You make it sound as if I run a labour camp."
"Well, it would be nice to work without… certain consequences hanging over us."
"Oh, come now," she said with a soft laugh. "I only send people there when they truly earn it. You should feel flattered — you've managed to avoid it."
"Sometimes I wonder if Maxwell really deserved it…."
"Oh, Sterling." She laughed softly. "If you're that concerned, I can arrange a reunion."
Sterling shook his head. "No. I'm not volunteering for a cell."
"I knew you'd say that." Lolita smiled.
"I should go." Sterling turned on his heel.
"On second thought," Lolita said, her smile turning entirely cold, "You will join me at the summit. You wanted to be useful, Sterling? Congratulations. I've just found a use for you. I was worried the politics would bore me, but watching you sweat in front of Jacob will be… uniquely entertaining."
Sterling was already sweating beneath the collar of his white long-sleeve shirt, a thin line of heat crawling down his spine.