The Love of Money II - Chapter 35: For Whom the Bell Tolls

Friday, September 20th, 10:26 am

“...so with this process in place and with your generous donation, we can confidently claim that we will decrease veteran homelessness by thirty percent within the next decade. We also don’t think it’s unreasonable to—”

I placed my hand on the conference table. “I’m sorry… what?”

The gentleman at the head of the conference table glanced from the power point presentation he was stepping us through to look at me. Then he glanced at Charity uncertainly.

“Did you have a question?” he asked.

“Let me get this straight… you want to reduce veteran homelessness by thirty percent over ten years?”

The man simply stared back at me, his eyes looking particularly owlish in his coke-bottle thick lenses. “I know it seems ambitious… but—”

“Ambitious? Thirty percent in ten years doesn’t seem like much.”

Some of the other members of The Homefront Foundation immediately put their heads together and began murmuring.

“Forgive me,” retired Army Corporal Malcomb Sanders said from his seat near the other end of the table. “Miss Malano said she’d given you our records.”

“She did,” I said. “I just haven’t had a chance to read them.”

“Ah,” he said, sounding slightly disappointed. I couldn’t blame him. Everyone sitting at this table probably had a combined twenty-five years or more of experience working with veteran-based non-profits, and I was just some rich, ignorant asshole here to sign a check. These guys were used to catering rich, ignorant, check-signing assholes, so I could literally hear the restraint in their voice, keeping them from sounding condescending. I knew what they were thinking, though—that this wealthy guy doesn’t have to work for a living. The least he could do is read the fucking material we gave him days in advance. Especially when all the important stuff was marked and tagged for my benefit.

The thing is, though. I hadn’t read the material. Charity had vetted these guys. Erin had double-checked Charity’s work. Chloe and Psalter vouched for them. The Reddit community loved them. These guys were the real deal… not some evil non-profit pocketing seventy percent of the profits.

And I didn’t want to read the material. Over the last few days that I’d had those reports on my desk, I’d been dealing with my own personal and business-related crap, and when I hadn’t been dealing with that…

Well, there were several ladies in the house who enjoyed regular attention.

When no one else seemed to know what to say to address what appeared to be my disappointment, I continued, “What would it take to end all homelessness by the end of the year?”

By the looks on their faces, I might as well have asked them what it would take to fit an entire football team inside a Fiat.

“I’m sorry,” Sanders said. “That’s not doable.” There was a hint of condescension creeping into his voice.

“Because you don’t have enough money?”

“Because it’s September. It’s not logistically possible.”

“What if it were January?”

Sanders glanced at one of his companions, the two of them sharing a disbelieving look.

“Could you do it by the end of next year?”

“One hundred percent of veterans housed?” Owlish asked.

“Yeah.”

He shook his head. “Not one hundred percent, sir. There are simply some veterans who will have pushback. Then there’s zoning and building issues… those differ across cities and states.”

“But closer to one hundred percent than thirty?” I asked.

“By next year?” asked the man sitting across from Sanders.

“Yeah.”

“With enough money, and more than a year…” He scrubbed at his mouth in thought.

“It’s a lofty goal,” Sanders said, but not impossible with enough money.”

I fixed him with a look. “Realistically, how much do you need to make it happen?”

He glanced at his co-workers, then back at me. “A hundred million to get us started?”

“You’ll get two hundred and fifty million,” I said.

The silence that permeated the conference room was so palpable I could feel it.

And then Owlish dropped his PowerPoint remote, causing the rest of his team to begin talking excitedly to themselves.

“Sir, there’s no way you can possibly—”

All of us suddenly turned our attention to the door as Erin opened it and poked her head inside. She immediately spotted me with her eyes. “Emergency call,” she mouthed.

“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take this. Charity will work out the details and fill me in later.” I stood up to leave, and every person at that table did the same. Several of them approached me, offering their hands as they thanked me.

“Sir, are you serious?” Malcolm said as I shook his hand.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure it’ll take me some time to get all of it to you, but I’ll try to get a decent chunk to you by the end of next week, so you guys can get started. I keep sitting in on these meetings, and it feels like you're all fighting over scraps. These guys fought for our country, and a lot of them get out and have no support system. I want to change that, but some guys are gonna die from exposure or drugs if it takes ten years to reach a third of them. I want results as soon as possible. *********** a suitable city to start with, keeping scalability and replicability in mind. This is a national problem, and I want it fixed. Keep Charity in the loop, and let’s meet again at the end of the year.”

“Of course,” he said, shaking my hand vigorously. “Thank you so much, sir.”

“No,” I said. “Thank you for all you’re doing… and for your service.”

After shaking a few more hands, I managed to get out of the door, leaving Charity to deal with the details while I turned my attention to whatever Erin deemed an emergency.

“What is it?” I asked Erin as I shut the door behind me.

“It’s Sachiko Tanaka,” she said, palm over the phone’s mouthpiece.

“About fucking time,” I huffed. “What’d she say?”

“That she wants to talk to you.” Erin raised an eyebrow when I gave her a look. “She told me she didn’t want to talk to me. Only you.”

She handed me the phone. I took it, muttering, “Don’t rich people know how to text?”

“Hey, Sachiko,” I said as I lifted the phone to my ear. “It’s been a minute. Glad you made it out alive.”

“You know I made it out alive,” she replied coolly. “Your men killed the assassin.”

I couldn’t read her tone—no guilt, no gratitude, no indication whether it was her or Hiro who’d ordered the hit. She was hard enough to read in person. Over the phone? Impossible.

“I want to meet,” I said.

“Good,” she replied. “So do I. That’s why I called.”

“Not you,” I said. “Hiro.”

“My father will not meet with you.”

“Why? Because he’s afraid I’ll kill him—or because he lacks the self-control not to leap over the table at me?”

“It’s because you see things like that.”

“What? That he’s either a coward or he can’t keep his hands to himself?”

“Yes. He’s a very prideful man. You know this.”

“You realize how petty that sounds, right?”

She sighed. Didn’t answer.

“How the hell did he ever do business with people?”

“Everyone else has always been respectful of my father,” she said. “They understood what he was capable of. He’s grown used to a certain standard of decorum.”

“All I see,” I said, “is a daughter trying to shield her snowflake boomer dad from reality—and from the consequences of his own actions.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sachiko snapped, venom lacing her voice. It stopped me. Made me shift gears.

“Why are you working for him?” I asked, quieter. “You know he doesn’t value you.”

Silence.

Goddamn stubborn family loyalty.

Don’t get me wrong—I would’ve done anything to make my sister smile, or to make Richie happy. I’d kill for my mom and dad. But they were good people. Honest. They made mistakes, but they took responsibility for them.

Jacob? I would’ve sold him out for half a candy bar. And Hiro made Jacob look like a choirboy. As far as I could tell, that man showed no visible affection for a daughter who had given him everything.

I wanted to say it—just step out of the way. Let an accident happen.

But fuck... I couldn’t.

I’d danced with the idea at the sushi place… but this? This would be a real suggestion. Too real. And I wasn’t Hiro Tanaka. I didn’t want to be that.

“Well,” I finally said, “I don’t want to meet with you. And he doesn’t want to meet with me. Looks like we’re at an impasse. Guess I’ll have to fight fire with fire.”

You see, over the past few days, things hadn’t gone quiet between us. They’d escalated.

Tuesday, the day after the assassination attempt and my interrogation of Carla, I woke up to bad news. The software company supporting one of our major tech divisions, LumenVir Tech, had pulled out of a three-year contract before it was due to expire. Now, my company had warehouses full of useless hardware. Worse still, our clients’ security systems were malfunctioning. LumenVir was scrambling to onboard replacement software, but millions had already been lost, and trust had been damaged.

Our lawyers were suing. Psalter’s team traced it back to a shell corporation, and of course, they were able to trace it back to Hiro.

So, I decided to pursue him.

Not that I had some brilliant plan to take him down.

Erin, a specialist from Psalter’s team, and a couple of lawyers from YPV’s international division brought me three options. I picked a real estate firm called Shinsei Development Group—mainly because it was Erin’s favorite.

I had no idea how they managed to pull it off, but my team convinced Tokyo to freeze the company’s assets and launch a surprise audit.

It turned out to be a hell of a bigger hit than I expected.

Last night, I found out Shinsei wasn’t just a real estate company—it was laundering money through bloated construction budgets and running fronts for underground casinos and illegal brothels.

In one accidentally brilliant stroke, I’d wiped out two of the Tanaka family’s enterprises.

And it had achieved the mission of getting Hiro’s attention, because I was back on the phone with Sachiko Tanaka after days of trying to call them.

I wish I could’ve seen Hiro’s face when he got the news.

“Fire with fire?” Sachiko said, sounding irritated. “Marcus, I don’t—”

“If you don’t want this to escalate further, your father needs to sit down and talk to me. Not you. Him.”

“You don’t want to do this, Marcus. This won’t end well.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to do this. I didn’t want to do this from the very beginning, but your dad won’t listen to reason, and I’m about out of patience with him.

“I told you… he won’t agree to meet with you,” Sachiko said.

She’d been as diplomatic as possible on a call like this. I wanted to believe she was just someone caught in the middle, trying to keep the peace. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

But she was pissing me off.

I ground my teeth. “I heard you the first time, Sachiko, so let me make this as plain as I can. Amber Bell is in my office right now. If Hiro won’t meet with me directly, I’ll find other ways to end this.”

A beat of silence. Then:

“What—”

I cut her off. “I believe you meant, ‘I understand, Marcus. I’ll let him know.’ You can also let him know I don’t want to hear from either of you again unless it’s to tell me when and where we’re meeting.”

I hung up before she could respond.

I know hanging up on dangerous crime families is bad for your health, but God, it felt good.

I turned around to see Erin staring at me. Her hands were clasped in front of her belly, and her dark eyes shone.

"Um... hi."

“God,” she breathed, “that was sexy.”

Before I could answer, she stepped into me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a kiss. Her firm breasts pressed against my chest as she pushed her tongue into my mouth. We frenched for about two minutes before she finally pulled away.

"You are so hot when you're bossing them around like that,” she growled, staring up at me through her thick lashes.

I slid my hand down her waist and took the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass. "Thanks. I'm not sure if it's the conversation or that kiss, but I really wish I could do something about the hard-on I have right now, but considering who’s waiting for me… Later?"

Erin stepped out of my arms, grinning. "Later. I'll bring a friend."

I grinned back at her. "What do you think?"

"About Tanaka? I don't think he has any choice but to listen to you. You really sucker punched him. Plus, you're bigger than he is."

"He has a lot more experience than I do," I said. "And he's better networked."

"Well, you put together a good team," Erin said. "And we're working on the networking. I think if he's smart, he'll put aside his pride and negotiate. Why are you so insistent on in-person, though?"

I shrugged. "It's a flex. He seemed reluctant to do it, and that just makes me want to do it more. Besides, I don't want to negotiate with him when I can't see his face."

"There are platforms for that," Erin pointed out.

"It's not the same." I checked my phone. "Damn, I should've been down there two minutes ago."

"It's two minutes. It'll be fine."

"I don't know… Amber seems the type to be fastidious about punctuality."

Erin pressed her lips together and nodded.

“Oh, and were we able to buy back Rajesh’s shares from VistaVision?”

“Yes, sir! Finalized as of this morning!” Erin said. “Charity’s making a couple of big donations to his non-profits in case people decide it looks weird with you being one of the last ones to see him before he died. She and Helen are also making sure your alibi is solid.”

"Thanks, Erin. Will you finish up with Charity for me?"

"Sure thing, boss. Good luck with Amber."

I reached out and caressed her cheek with my thumb. "Thanks."

I turned to go my way. She turned to go hers.

A lot had happened in the past few days since I found the recording device among Carla’s things and had lunch with Sachiko.

Beyond the corporate warfare, Rajesh Desai’s memorial was on Wednesday. I hadn’t wanted to go, but Charity and Erin had insisted, saying it was the right move. Desai was beloved in the community, and my absence would’ve been weaponized against me. Especially considering I was one of the last people to see him alive.

It was the closest either of them had come to actually bossing me.

Chloe had been adamantly against it. Her argument? If someone wanted to take me out, the memorial would be the perfect opportunity.

She wasn’t wrong, but Erin and Charity won that fight. And I didn’t think I had ever seen Chloe that stressed as she put together the strategy to ensure I stayed safe. She’d have taken the Norwegian wilderness over that event any day.

It was a massive affair. It felt like half the city turned out. Politicians, celebrities, philanthropists—they were all there. I caught glimpses of Hiro, but my security detail wouldn’t let me within spitting distance. When I sent Erin with a message, his guards turned her away without a word.

That was after the LumenVir attack but before my retaliation. I’d been hoping to get face time with him before I pulled the trigger on one of the three plans we’d put together.

When that attempt to talk failed, I gave the go-ahead and spent the next day watching the stock market and Japanese news to see the fallout. I didn’t feel great, considering there were so many lives that were likely affected by the decisions Hiro and I were making, but what else was I supposed to do? Hiro had me backed into a corner.

On a different note—Natalie and I were in a good place. The memorial had been on Wednesday morning, and less than an hour after launching my counterattack on Hiro, I took some of that frustration out on her in a way that left us both breathless and sweaty.

We ordered lunch to be delivered to her office. The moment she confirmed the order, I was on her, tearing off her blazer with a hunger that bordered on manic. I’d just given the go-ahead to cripple Hiro. The power surged through me like a drug, making me ravenous.

Natalie barely had time to react as I stripped her down, shoved half her desk clear, and bent her over it. Considering most of my fantasies about her had taken place at work, this had been a long time coming.

With her ass hanging off the edge of the desk, I drove into her hard, sweat slicking down my back. She tried to keep quiet, but it was damn difficult with how deeply I was penetrating her. She was mortified at the thought that Erin and Wendy could hear us through the door.

Wendy was Natalie’s new secretary—and just so happened to be the drugged-out girl I met at Tyler’s party.

She was one of the tallest women I’d ever seen, close to six feet, with legs that went on forever. Back then, she’d spent most of her time passed out on the couch in a bikini that barely qualified as clothing. She had long, coltish limbs, a pixie cut that framed her swan-like neck, and pale, ivory skin that practically glowed.

When I saw her this time, she looked a hell of a lot more coherent—no bloodshot eyes and steady on her feet. Honestly, I was surprised she even remembered me.

I didn’t last long. The fury from Hiro, the disdain from Sachiko, and the knowledge that Erin and Wendy were just outside the door… all of it lit a fire in me I wasn’t interested in extinguishing.

“I’m pretty sure they know what we’re doing in here,” I’d said to Natalie. “And they don’t care. Hell, Erin would join in if we asked her.”

That shut Natalie up—though she looked more intrigued than upset.

After the food was delivered, we spent the rest of the afternoon fucking in her office and talking. By the time I left—just before the end of the workday—we’d had another conversation about where this was going.

If it weren’t for the other women in my life, I think Natalie and I would have already been in a committed, loving relationship. But she had reservations about diving headfirst into an open dynamic.

I told her I understood. I wanted her, but I wasn’t going to pressure her. This was my lifestyle. She would have to decide whether she wanted in, and if so, she had to come in on her own terms—no coercion.

When I left her office, Erin and Wendy both gave us the same knowing look.

“You made an impression,” Erin had said on the way out. Apparently, Wendy had lots of questions about me.

And then there was Astrid. The Norwegian heiress had been pestering me all week… a daily call I ignored, followed by a selfie I couldn’t.

One was her in a bubble bath, foam placed just in all the right spots.

Another—my personal favorite—was her perched on her dining room table, wearing nothing but one of my button-down shirts. One that I was apparently never going to get back. The sleeves hung past her wrists. Her palms were planted on the wood between her open thighs, strategically blocking my view of her sex. There wasn’t a scrap of underwear on her hips. Her small chest was pressed between her biceps, offering as much cleavage as her modest curves could manage while managing to hide her nipples. That silky blond cornsilk hair draped over one shoulder, exposing the pale line of her neck as she tilted her head, reading glasses perched on her nose.

The caption read: You don’t know what you’re missing. I’d be happy to show you.

She looked like the innocent girl next door just begging to be ruined.

Fortunately, Erin and Helen had a way of keeping me from doing anything reckless.

Leave it to Erin to recite Astrid’s sins in the sexiest tone imaginable—naked beside me in bed, fingers drifting lazily across my chest as she whispered stories of Norway in my ear. And when her lips brushed against the shell of it, it didn’t really matter what she was saying anymore.

Especially not with her other hand fisted in Helen’s golden hair, using my collared submissive’s throat like a cock sleeve until I came down it.

It was hard to feel any real fear of missing out on Astrid with those two.

Speaking of Helen, Roger VanCamp was a frustration that just wouldn’t end.

Thanks to Ryo Tanaka shooting me out of the sky in Norway, Psalter had to divert his attention to organizing my rescue. Once that was behind him and he was getting back on Roger’s trail, we got the news about Rajesh’s death. Both of us agreed that finding out what actually happened, and making sure I wasn’t being set up for it, took precedence over tracking down a disgraced lawyer.

Psalter delegated the Roger investigation to someone else, but by then, Roger had vanished. No activity. No trail.

That made me nervous.

I had too many loose ends.

On top of Hiro and Roger, I still had Ashlee floating out there somewhere. She didn’t feel like an active threat, but something about her bothered me. She’d shown up at my house out of nowhere during my housewarming party, rambling about some guy, then was all but dragged out by her father. She’d looked awful—tired, agitated, and scared. The way she’d spoken to me... it was like she was looking for help.

So where was she now that Roger was gone? Did she even know her dad was on the lam?

At least there had been some progress on the Tyler front.

Psalter told me Tyler had been spotted visiting his aunt—my aunt. After the visit, he was followed back to a condo in Jersey. I briefly considered having Psalter’s team snatch him. Ryo’s setup had worked so well that I’d already had another apartment fitted with the same security features, so I had another prison ready in case I needed it.

But it felt... wrong.

Ryo had literally tried to kill me. His father was still gunning for me. I felt justified in holding him.

Tyler? He’d fucked with my life—studied me, toyed with me, and had broken Natalie’s heart once she found out she was just a pawn. I hated him for that.

But I didn’t think it warranted kidnapping.

I’m better than that. I’m not a monster.

I kept repeating that to myself like a mantra. Because the idea of becoming Hiro Tanaka, Roger VanCamp, Tyler Gerrard, or Rajesh Desai made me sick. I was already toeing enough moral lines. It’d be far too easy to slip into the abyss and become a literal fucking demon.

And speaking of demons...

In all my naval-gazing, I hadn’t realized that I’d reached my destination—a small conference room. Inside this room was my own personal Satan.

I’d started converting the other side of the floor where I was holding Ryo into a private office space for Gerrard Holdings—a headquarters for my own personal and business interests. Colin had used VistaVision as a primary space to do business. It was our flagship company, though, and it didn’t feel right to run the entire estate out of it. It was too essential to be burdened with my extracurricular bullshit.

I wanted something of my own. My way.

Keeping it in the same building I lived in made security easy… logistics too.

Staff for Gerrard Holdings had started to move in, as the converted space allowed, and that included conference rooms—like the one I’d just left full of veterans.

And the one I was stepping into.

Amber Bell was already seated, hands folded on the table, staring at the wall like it held one of those 3D images.

I shouldn’t have been surprised at her ability to wait like that. The woman was a fucking freak.

She turned to look at me as I closed the door and leaned against it. Jon stood in the far corner, hands clasped in front of him. Gave me the barest nod—everything was secure.

“Mr. Upton,” she said, in that halting, toneless way, “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

She had to have some kind of social disorder. So why the hell did Carl insist she was fun?

“I was advised against it,” I said, moving to take a seat across from her. “But my curiosity got the better of me. What is it, Miss Bell?”

Amber started to open her mouth, hesitated, and then said, “I am here to… how was I told to say it?”

She looked like she was fishing for some information in the back of her mind, and then seemed to rehearse it once, her lips barely moving as she stared at the ceiling.

“Ah… make an offer you can’t refuse.”

I offered her nothing more than a blank stare.

“I believe it’s a quote from—”

“I know what the quote’s from,” I snapped.

Amber blinked rapidly and then said, “Ah. Yes. Well, my employer is familiar with the feud you have with the Tanakas. He’s aware of the attack on LumenVir and your counter-offensive on the Tokyo development firm. We are also aware that it may have been tied to certain illicit enterprises Hiro Tanaka was running.”

“Wait,” I said, “How did—”

“My employer is… well connected,” Amber said. “That being said, we have information on what Hiro will likely do next, and I’ve asked for a meeting today because I’m offering that information in exchange for a few concessions on your part.”

I arched an eyebrow at her. “Concessions?”

“Yes. We are asking that you convince Chandler Grayson to step down as CEO and that an emergency meeting be called to replace him with Kelly Maddox.”

“What!?”

“We would also like to purchase Rajesh Desai’s shares of VistaVision, which you so recently acquired.”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, wait—”

“And Carla Tanaka.”

“What about her?” I asked.

“We would like her.”

“As in to have a meeting with her?”

“We would like custody of her.”

“Hell no,” I said, standing up.

“In exchange, we can tell you what Tanaka is planning next, and how to cripple him much more effectively in your counterattack.”

“Thanks for stopping by. I hope the door hits you on your way out.”

“I’m not sure I underst—”

“Why did you even bother with this? I just kicked Hiro in the nuts. Hard. I’m doing fine. Did you seriously think I’d go for this?” I turned toward the door.

Her eerily calm voice drifted from behind me. “I came here to make a deal with you because… I’m sure you are aware of the proverb ‘It’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.”

A cold chill spread through my limbs as I stopped mid-step. I slowly turned around to look at her. Those words rang through my mind: It’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.

I’d heard those words in exactly that tone and cadence before.

In Vegas…

She stared back at me, dispassionate as ever. “How is Natashya doing?”

“She has night terrors because of you,” I said, my voice low.

“Ah… I’m afraid I never met the girl, but that sounds… unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?” I asked. I stalked toward the table and planted my hands on it, leaning in. “I’ll tell you what’s unfortunate. You’re basically sitting in a Gerrard stronghold right now confessing to kidnapping me.”

Amber blinked and tilted her head as she stared up at me. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Upton. I was simply inquiring after a loved one. She was one of the ones kidnapped alongside you, correct?”

“You fucking know she was. You just said so!”

“Much of the community is aware that you took a few young women with you to Las Vegas, including Ashlee VanCamp, and that at least one of them was abducted alongside you. Natashya Lazarev, I believe? A young dancer from a gentlemen’s club here in New York?”

I stared at her for a long moment, and she simply met my gaze impassively.

Why was she playing innocent? Using that phrase was clearly a message.

Unless…

I glanced up at Jon.

Fuck. She suspected she was being recorded.

Which she was. Jon was wearing a wire.

Well, if the recording no longer mattered, it was time to change tactics.

“Fine. You wanna know something else about that night? A member of my security died in that whole mess. There was a funeral. We were all really upset that we lost one of our own.”

I glanced up at Jon again, who took a few steps closer to Amber.

“And I’ve since learned that actually caring about your security engenders loyalty. The kind of loyalty that makes people do things they might not do otherwise.”

I watched as Jon pulled out his sidearm and planted the barrel of the gun into the back of Amber’s melon. Her head moved forward slightly from the pressure of the weapon, but she refused to take her eyes off me.

“Paying them really well helps too,” I continued.

“I would imagine so,” Amber said, seemingly unfazed by the fact that her life could end with just a few more added pounds per square inch on Jon’s trigger finger.

That infuriated me, and it was all I could do to keep my anger bubbling to the surface and doing to her what I had done to Ryo.

“This is unnecessary and counterproductive. You may kill me. You may find temporary comfort in the act, but I do not believe you have the temperament to keep it from affecting you long term. Besides, kill me, and you’ll have gained nothing of worth. I believe that what we offer has significant value compared to our request,” Amber said.

“How about you just tell me and I’ll let you leave in one piece?” I countered.

“I’m afraid my employer would be displeased if I were to do that. Death would be preferable,” she said, still sounding as if she were on some boring Zoom call.

“Who is your employer?” I growled. I’d had Psalter look into Brantwood, the company she represented during Chandler’s vote, but none of his people could find anything on it. Brantwood had been layered under a meticulously spun web of bureaucratic bullshit.

“Brantwood—”

“Give me a name!”

“I’m afraid that information is confidential.”

I straightened. “Fucking shoot her.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a ruse. Jon knew better than to pull the trigger, but he certainly made a show of it. The barrel shifted against the back of her head as he adjusted his hand on the grip.

“I’ve also been authorized to share findings on your grandfather’s death.”

“Bullshit!” I spat.

“The coroner’s report stated that Colin Gerrard died of heart failure, I believe? There may be reason to believe the report might be flawed—that a potent and hard-to-detect poison killed your grandfather.”

“And you’re going to give me that, the keys to dick punch Hiro Tanaka, and beachfront property in Arizona? All in exchange for the things you requested?”

“Assuming the beachfront property was a joke,” Amber said. “Yes.”

I eyed the briefcase she came in with.

She must have picked up on what I was thinking because she said, “You won’t find the information in there. I entrust important details like that to my memory.”

I had Jon go through the briefcase to verify. Sure enough, there was a notepad, a pen, and a few other odds and ends. Nothing else.

Of course, she kept everything in her head!

I began pacing as I considered. Getting answers I longed for… really sticking it to Tanaka… those were some very tempting offers, and all I had to do was just give up a few tiny things… like control of one of the biggest entertainment empires in the world.

I was fairly certain that even if I lost VistaVision completely tomorrow, I would be more than financially okay, but it wasn’t just about survival. It was about the principal. Hiro Tanaka was constantly threatening me. Did I really want to give up the devil I knew for one whose name I didn’t even know?

I sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.

“No.”

“No?” She repeated.

“No deal,’ I said bitterly, already feeling uncertainty gnawing at my stomach. “As in, take your briefcase full of junk and get the fuck out.”

“Before I do, I should warn you that Hiro Tanaka is a relentless man with a twisted set of principles. Holding his son and wife hostage will only get you so far. I believe he would rather see his firstborn die than meet your demands.”

“Noted. Thanks,” I said sourly.

I wanted to tell Jon to put a bullet in the head of my kidnapper, who was responsible for Natashya’s PTSD, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It wasn’t fair that so many of the people I was going up against had so few scruples.

Apparently, that included the mystery employer that Amber was working for.

There was one takeaway, at least. Roger VanCamp has just become even more valuable, as he was there with Amber. He probably knew who Amber answered to, or at least had a better idea of how to locate them. The urgency to find him was suddenly so much stronger.

“Jon.”

“Yes, sir?”

“If Amber is still standing in front of me in thirty seconds, please shoot her in the foot.”

“Yes, sir,” Jon said.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Miss Bell,” I growled. “And tell whoever your employer is the same. If they need to vote on anything with one of my companies, they'd better send someone else to represent them or phone it in.”

Amber adjusted her glasses as she picked up her suitcase. “I’m afraid you’re making a grave miscalculation, Mr. Upton.”

“Go die in a fire, Amber.”

“I won’t be doing that, Mr. Upton, but I understand your sentiment. I’ll pass along your warning to my employer. Please call me if you change your mind.”

With that, she tried to hand me a business card as she brushed by me, leaving a few seconds before her thirty-second deadline hit. I let the business card fall to the ground uselessly.

Then I huffed and dropped back in my chair.

“You okay, sir?” Jon asked.

I glanced up at him and just grimaced.

I hope I hadn’t just chosen poorly.

Thirty minutes later, I found myself up in the kitchen, sitting at my counter and eating a piece of chocolate cake that Camille had made and left on the counter for me and the staff. It was phenomenal—moist and fudgy without being overly rich. I honestly didn’t know how my chef managed to do it.

“Hey, M,” Emily’s voice drifted from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see my sister standing in the doorway, her hands clasped in front of her, watching me with those distinctive, pale gray eyes.

“Oh,” I said. “Hey, Em.” I slid my plate of half-eaten cake over to sit in the spot next to me. “Want some cake? It’s good.”

“Um… sure,” she said, tucking some hair behind her ear as she approached me. She slid on the stool next to me, picked up the fork, and used it to cut of a big section of cake.

“Mmm,” she said as she chewed on it thoughtfully. The way she ate it—experienced it—was way too interesting for her brother to be watching her that closely. She swallowed, her throat working up and down as she lapped at her lips with her tongue.

“Yeah. That’s some of the best cake I’ve eaten.” She began to press the tongs of her fork into the chocolate crumbs on the white ceramic and slid them between her lips, savoring as much as she could.

“What are you doing home?” I asked. I thought you had rehearsal today.”

She shrugged. “Didn’t feel like going in.”

“You didn’t… Em, you’ve been away for over a month. Getting back into things and picking up a part this quickly… that’s not something to treat lightly.”

I studied her. She seemed reluctant to say something, so I took the initiative. “Something you want to tell me?”

She slid another portion of the chocolate cake between her lips and slowly chewed on it while she watched me with her big eyes. As soon as she swallowed, she said, “Erin’s just been telling me about how you’re under a lot of stress with this Tanaka guy who tried to kill you in Norway.”

“That was his son, but yeah. You could say it’s been stressful.”

I’d tried to shield as much of this world from Emily as I could, but it’d been incredibly difficult when the girls ran their mouths to each other.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Oh…”

I almost said I’d be fine, but this was Emily—my sister. Truth be told… between trying to be a philanthropist, sifting through the company documents to untangle that mess, and dealing with this feud… I was starting to feel way over my head.

And I didn’t feel like I had any right to complain. I had an army of help and billions of dollars. Other people had it way worse than me, right?

I sighed. “Not really. I was approached by someone today who I think had a hand in the kidnapping.”

Emily’s eyes immediately hardened as I mentioned the most terrifying experience her girlfriend had ever gone through. “Did you have her arrested?”

“No,” I snorted. “On what? I have no proof, and she’s got an alibi. There’s video evidence of her in Alexandria while I was in Las Vegas.”

Emily fell silent as she bit her lip in consternation.

“She wanted some stuff from me… mainly control of VistaVision. In exchange, she said she could help me with Tanaka and even give me some information on my grandpa’s death.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I told Jon that if she wasn’t out of my in less than a minute, to shoot her in the knee. I didn’t want to cave to my kidnapper, Em.”

She reached out and covered my hand with her own; her fingers were soft as they caressed my knuckles, sending warmth running up my arm. “That’s understandable,” she said softly.

“I’m just worried,” I went on.

“About what?”

“What if I made a mistake?”

Emily shook her head and started to speak. Then my phone started buzzing. I glanced at it to see Chandler calling me. Not wanting to talk to him right now, I silenced it.

“If this is the woman who kidnapped you and Natashya, then you made the right call. You can’t work with people like that.”

My phone started buzzing again, and I glanced at it. I vaguely recognized it as one of YVP’s numbers. I reached out to pick up the phone when the door to the kitchen burst open and Erin, Helen, and Charity stormed into the room.

“Marcus!” Erin said, her eyes wide. She looked scared. They all did. “We’ve got a problem!”

My heart sank, and I looked back at Emily, who looked terrified by the way the other girls stormed into the room.

“I don’t think I made the right call, Em.”

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