NYAC | 2min Read
Published on May 6, 2026
Unconditioning Ruth Walker
Unconditioning Ruth Walker
Ruth Walker had lived her life, working hard to make her way to the top. She was now the C
EO of the biggest
oil exporter in all of the seven seas. She had moved her way up, slowly but swiftly, office politics was a game to
her. She handled media and press with ease, every word calculated and configured to create her desired effect.
She was untouchable, or so she thought.
That was when she met Jason.
He had cornered her at the yearly company gala, a journalist with sharp eyes and even sharper questions. For the
first time in years, she found herself stumbling over a response. She brushed it off with a smile, but the moment
she got home, she called her publicist to ask for his contact information. One business meeting turned into four,
then into late-night dinners. But by the second date, she noticed something strange: every time she laughed,
Jason pressed a small metal clicker in his hand.
The next morning, when her secretary clicked her pen, Ruth felt an involuntary smile stretch across her face. She
froze. Her secretary froze. Something was wrong.
She paced in her office rambling: “What would Jason want from me- money? His family has enough. Power?
He’s a journalist, he can ruin people with one article.” She hated feeling lost and she knew just who to call when
she did. Mason was her private investigator, she had used his help to secure many business deals.
“Mason, how have you been, how’re your parents and Chiquita (his parrot),” she asked
“All well Miss Walker”, he answered in his deep British rumble.
“ I have a new case for you- Jason Briatore, 27 year old Journalist. ”
“Ah, Briatore, that name rings a bell, I’ll send the files to you by the morning,”
“This case warrants a personal visit, things are quite grave,”
Mason arrived at her penthouse the next morning. His coat was still wet from the rain, and when Ruth opened
the door, his eyes softened, just slightly when he saw her.
“You look tired,” he murmured.
“Don’t start,” she sighed, with a faint upward twitch of her mouth.
They sat across from each other on the velvet sofa as he opened a slim folder.
“Jason Briatore has a history,” Mason began. “Dropped out of a behavioural psychology program. Specialized in
associative conditioning. He’s tried… experiments before.”
Ruth’s stomach tightened.
“Experiments?”
“He conditions reactions in people. Smiles, fear responses, compliance.” He tapped the clicker in the file. “This
is his tool.”
For the first time, she felt something she rarely allowed: fear. Mason noticed. He always noticed.
“He chose to cross Ruth Walker’s path, he miscalculated, Ruth. He doesn’t know what we’re capable of.”Mason said softly, holding her hands.
Their eyes held a moment longer than necessary.
