Jessop loved beauty. His home was filled with extravagant elegance. The finest crystals, imported rare woods, expensive luxurious fabrics. Only the best would do. As he wandered his palatial home, contemplating his plans, he smiled almost affectionately at his surroundings as he scanned the room. Every item had a special place it belonged. When something was moved even a fraction from its original spot, he noticed and moved it back to its designated location.
Clothes were second on his list of must-haves. Quality, style, elegance. Therefore he worked out, perfecting his own form so he did them justice. There was no excuse for slovenliness. He was impeccable at all times and expected anyone that worked for him should do so the same.
He treasured all that he’d slaved for. He particularly delighted in taking it from those who’d rubbed his position as a child in his face and these items became even more precious, so precious they were locked in glass containers inside his den.
“Yes, so fitting,” he remarked wandering through the locked room which no one else was allowed to enter. This was his sanctuary. This was his glory room. His and his alone. The pinnacle of his success and all he obtained and considered worthwhile was contained within these walls.
His eyes were turned momentarily black with remembered pain. The pain only a child can understand when made to feel small, insignificant and unimportant. He smiled once again, that lop-sided grin that turned his handsome face into an evil mask.
He’d done well in tracking down his vicious abusers. Abusers of his emotions who’d taken delight in tearing him apart and shredding him to pieces, pieces he’d put back together by himself.
Indeed, he hoped his father would have been proud of his accomplishments, that his current wealth superseded even that of his father at the pinnacle of his wealth before that horrific disgrace.