The man's cock remained out; flaccid and smelling horrifically, but at least not in need of attention. Indeed by the way he sunk into his chair and let his body roll back it looked like he might be spent for months, nevermind the hour or two Zoey required. Certainly she wouldn't rank stamina among his skills... Which left her wondering what skills he actually had. Eating, apparently, because soon enough all of them were digging hurriedly into the second course of who-knew-how-many, chatting again about business, technology and the newest, most interesting inventions around time.<br/><br/>Soon enough, Quentin found a way to turn their talks toward what he bought them here for; the discussion of business. He was sick of sharing his profits three ways, and though he wasn't yet prepared to push on alone - there were after all other consortium s that could challenge his! - he was preparing to drop one of them. Preferably while losing as little money as possible. He turned toward the tall, grey-haired fellow with a warm smile. She listened as the words took a more serious tone as they discussed business, talking about the ins and outs of the working of their respective companies; most of it was uninteresting to Zoey, but the kind of information some would kill to listen in on. It just served to remind her that they didn't consider her a person worth ignoring; she was little more than a dog knelt obediently nearby.<br/><br/>The man had a plan that thrilled him. A few loopholes in the law that meant he could - quite literally - get away with murder. The first part of his plan was the document he put onto the table, reading out to all of them. The words were coated in legal flourish, but the jist was that as long as more than half of the trio survived their long-standing deal would continue. The only way to break said deal was for two of the three to die; their heirs, critically, were unable to change the terms whatsoever. This meant, when it came down to it, that if Lord Stayan were to drink himself to death within the week then neither Mathias nor Quentin would be a single silver worse off for it. A convenience hidden within enough legal mumbo jumbo that the slightly drunk, slightly stupid, and suitably sex-addled Stayan didn't even notice the clause.<br/><br/>And the key - the real final touch - was the slave law. The law that stated slaves lives were not their own... As such, they could not be punished by a court of law. Their owners were liable to the punishments; but a little wrangling and an expensive lawyer could limit that punishment to a fine for losing control of the slave.<br/><br/>What this boiled down to was a fine murder plot. As Stayan scribbled his name on the dotted line - belching in the process - little did he realise that he was now less than useless to them. And with no discernible charisma... Well. Quentin pushed his chair back and stood, smiling toward Mathias who looked back tight lipped; he wasn't so stupid as to not have noticed. Indeed, it worked for him too, so he was hardly going to complain. Their glasses were raised. "To a fine business relationship then, Mathias. May we work together for many long years."<br/><br/>Stayan just started to look confused, when Quentin added in an eerily calm, happy tone. "Zoey... Creep out from under the fucking table, and kill that pig of a man." Butlers looked surprised, Mathias look placcid, and Stayan looked terrified; but noone would stop it unless Zoey herself drew the line.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>