The Love of Money I - Chapter 33: Make Me a Good Man

Thursday, 6:33 am

“Bro, that is seriously fucked up.”

Early morning light peeked over the New York skyline and dimly lit my room in a glow that meant it was time to get up. The two people I’d fallen asleep with were no longer next to me, but I could hear the shower hissing from the master bathroom and an occasional note of someone singing softly to themselves. It felt comfortable.

I was lying in bed with a single earbud inserted, talking to Dillon and trying to will myself to get out of bed. Unfortunately, I was still so sore that every muscle screamed simultaneously if I did something as insignificant as wiggling my toes. It didn’t feel like the ‘you’ll die if you move too much’ pain as much as it was ‘run a half-marathon, hit the gym, and then fight in a boxing match’ type of pain. Still, I had a lot to do today, so my body would have to get over it. Hopefully, time and movement would make things a little easier.

“I know,” I said as I heard the water in the bathroom turn off. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my life.”

“But you’re okay?” Dillon asked. He was on a morning shift at Strange Mudd, judging by the sound of the cappuccino machine running in the background.

“Yeah,” I said as I ran through the memories of the gunfight once more. “Man, you should have seen it. I thought I was dead, but Chloe came in with guns blazing… bullets flying… blood everywhere.”

“Hot,” Dillon said.

“Gross.”

“Not the blood,” Dillon clarified. “The chick with the gun. Especially her. Dude, your bodyguard is fine.”

“You mentioned that.”

“And you met Karly Titus?” he asked.

“A little. She was with her boyfriend most of the night,” I said.

“Aren’t you still single?”

“Uh…” I glanced at the partially-open bathroom door, watching whisps of steam curl through the three-inch gap as I thought about the two women I’d fucked yesterday evening.

Erin and I weren’t dating, nor had Danni and I even discussed it. I wasn’t sure what Helen was to me, but I could place her squarely in the non-relationship category - especially with her being married. Bobbi was… complicated but not dating me. I ‘went out’ with Ashlee briefly, but that was an attempt to get information about the guy who confronted me in the bathroom last week. Besides, she probably had a hand in my kidnapping, which was a red flag.

That left Natashya, but I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since we were rescued. Besides, not only did she say she wasn’t relationship material, but I’d also caught her eating out my sister. For most people, that was a deal breaker.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“You don’t think so?” Dillon repeated, sounding incredulous.

I sighed, “It’s complicated, man. There’s been a lot of girls, but there hasn’t been anything official.”

“Then it sounds like you’re single,” Dillon doubled down. “You should date Karly Titus. You guys were in a shoot-out together, so you could trauma-bond.”

I snorted. “Barely. Besides, she has a boyfriend.”

“Nah, dude. I saw on social media that she’s recently single. She didn’t say why, but there’s a screenshot of him calling her a lying, cheating bitch.”

“Okay, dude,” I said. “I’ll call her up. ‘Hey, Karly. I’m the guy who sat by you on the couch for ten minutes at that party raided by mercenaries looking for me. Can I buy you a drink?’”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“And that’s why you’re single,” I said as a thought struck me.

I was back in town, and despite Erin’s best attempts, there was a lot of speculation that I’d been involved in the shooting. I’d seen clips of people asking where I’d been since Friday. The rumors were backed up by reported sightings of me with some influencers at a party in Vegas. None of it had been substantiated, but it wasn’t like that mattered. In the world of social media, you were guilty until proven innocent.

So, what if I had here? No one would show up and shoot up my apartment; it was a veritable fortress crawling with security. I could invite some well-known locals… maybe grab a DJ. It didn’t have to be anything significant. I just needed to squash the rumors, and, in the process, if I made a statement to whoever was behind my kidnapping, then even better.

Another consideration was that I’d failed to invite my friends over yet or to spend any quality time with them since I’d come into my fortune. As a bonus, my family was in town. The stars seemed to be aligning.

“Hey,” I said, “I just had an idea.”

I spent the next ten minutes sharing my idea with Dillon, who was all for it. He offered to invite some of our other friends. He also proposed bartending it. I turned the latter down. I could afford a fucking bartender. This was a chance to enjoy my wealth with some of the people who meant the most to me.

While we discussed some of the details, Danni emerged from the shower wearing a fluffy white towel around her torso and another wrapped over her head like a turban. It was my first time seeing Danni without makeup, especially mascara and eyeliner. She was every bit as gorgeous after a shower in nothing but towels. Her damp skin was clear, unblemished, and lily-white, complimented by her expressive green eyes, pale pink lips, and raven hair. She looked at me, and a natural blush crept across her cheeks as I watched her hungrily.

She approached me while I was still on the phone and sat beside me on the bed, leaning in to press her soft lips to mine for a chaste kiss. I inhaled and took in her clean scent while Dillon rambled about the party’s possibilities. Then she began to trail soft kisses across the bruises on my face and shower me with tender affection, which she kept up until I finished my call with Dillon.

I looked up at Danni, and she gave me a sweet smile and stroked my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I just don’t want to get out of bed. I’m still sore. Especially after last night.”

She smiled at the reference to our love-making and kissed me on the forehead. “Speaking of which,” she murmured against it, “where did Erin go?”

“Not sure,” I said as I ran my fingers along the curve of her ivory neck. Gooseflesh coalesced along her skin. “She’s still here, I think. She just had to put together some stuff for my meeting this morning.”

“Ah,” she said and pulled me to her chest. I enjoyed nuzzling into her warm, smooth skin. My nose caught where the towel overlapped, and I worked it free just enough for it to slip down, exposing one of her breasts to the air. The small, pink nipple capping it immediately crinkled in the room’s cool air.

“So,” she said, “a party huh?” I could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Yeah. Nothing crazy. I just thought I should do something for my friends and family.” I nuzzled into her bare breast, then glanced up at her and said, “You wanna come?”

She looked pleased. “If you want me there, of course!”

“Why wouldn’t I want you there?” I said, kissing her chest. I felt her run her fingers through my hair, her fingernails gentle across my scalp.

“Marcus…”

I waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, my stomach began twisting into random shapes. I sat up to get a good look at her; her green eyes, flecked with bits of brown, were fixed on me and filled with nervous energy. I felt that knot in my belly tighten. “What?”

“Um…” She glanced away and muttered, “God… I didn’t want to do this right now.”

“What?” I repeated a little more insistently.

“What are we?”

The knot in my stomach loosened a little as fears of pregnancy evaporated like the steam from Danni’s shower. Then it tightened again when I realized what this was. I was about to have my first DTR discussion.

I guess I should’ve seen it coming. Danielle displayed signs of infatuation last night, and the girlfriend experience just now should have been a further clue. I’d also noticed a hint of annoyance at Erin inserting herself into our coupling. It had been fleeting, but I’d picked up on something.

I started to respond, “I…”

Then I hesitated. I needed to tread carefully. I liked Danni. I really liked Danni. Had we been doing this three weeks ago, and she asked that question, I would have said ‘relationship’ before the words died on her lips. She was one of the kindest souls I’d ever met. Her looks? She was easily a ten out of ten. Not even an Omaha or Little Rock ten. I’m talking about New York, Los Angeles, or Malibu. To top it off, she was absolutely filthy in the bedroom; anyone had to be to participate in a pool-party foursome or a stripper orgy. Of all the women I’d been ‘seeing,’ she was probably the closest to girlfriend material. Erin might have given her some competition, but she’d made her feelings about commitment clear.

But… did I want to go down this road? It was the Natalie situation all over again, and I remembered Helen’s words about being in a unique position. According to her, tying myself to one person was a bad idea.

I hesitated a beat too long, and Danni said, “I… got asked out this weekend.”

Alarm bells sounded in my mind, but she winced and continued before I could respond. “I turned him down. This isn’t me trying to… I’m not being manipulative or anything, but it just got me thinking…”

I said, “I understand-”

“And I’m not dumb,” she cut me off. “There’s no way I could compete with some of the women you’ve been around, and I couldn’t expect someone in your position to just give up what you have.”

Wait… what was she suggesting?

“But after Erin told me what happened to you, and remembering the last couple of weeks…” She looked at me a little desperately. “I think I’m falling for you a little. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy. It’s not like I’m madly in love or anything, but I like you, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, which scares me a little.”

She stared at me worriedly as she bit her lip. The morning light had steadily grown over the last ten to twenty minutes, and by this point, I could easily see unshed tears in those verdant pools. Sweet Danielle looked very vulnerable right now.

I clasped her hand, brought it to my lips, and pressed them to her warm digits. “I don’t know what to say,” I murmured. “I honestly didn’t know someone as beautiful and wonderful as you could fall in love with me.”

She snorted. “Don’t be naive, Marcus. You’re a good-looking guy. You’ve always treated me well, you have a nice dick, and you know how to use it.” She gestured with her free hand around the room and said, “Of course, it helps that you’re loaded. Of course, amazing women are going to be throwing themselves at you! I’ve seen how Natashya looks at you, and Erin told me about how Ashlee is determined to lock you down. I’ve even caught Erin eyeing you like a steak dinner.”

“That’s just Erin being horny,” I protested.

Danni shook her head. “I’ve known her for a while. She’d never admit it, but that girl’s crushing on you.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” I said.

“Why?” Danni asked. “You wouldn’t date Erin?”

“I don’t like the idea that I’m that oblivious.”

“Well, you were oblivious to this,” Danni said as she gave me a half-smile. “You look like a deer caught in the headlights. Way to make a girl feel special, Mr. Upton.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

Danni shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you right before your big meeting. You’re still recovering from being kidnapped. I probably shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“No. Stop.” I said. “Danielle, any man in the world would be lucky to have you. You surprised me. That’s all.”

We sat on the bed for the next minute and a half, staring at each other sheepishly as we processed what we had confessed. If I were honest, I was probably doing most of the processing. I think Danielle was just waiting for me to say something.

“You know,” she finally said. “I don’t expect some sort of commitment or even an answer right now. I know you have a lot going on, and there’s other women in your life. I just needed you to know how I felt.” She cocked her head and gave me a hopeful look. “Can you just think about it?”

“Danni, it’s probably the only thing I’m going to be thinking about all day,” I said, kissing her fingers again. In return, I received a radiant smile that threatened to blind me.

“That’s more like what a girl wants to hear,” she said. Then she looked a touch worried. “I hope I haven’t ruined your meeting.”

“I’ll manage,” I said.

Twenty minutes later, I kissed Danni goodbye at the elevators. As she stepped in and turned around, she gave me a hopeful little smile tinged with a bit of sadness and kept her gaze fixed on me until the doors slid shut. With a deep sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair, turned, and headed toward the kitchen. I had a lot to think about.

I found Erin sitting at the island in the kitchen with an open laptop and a bowl of assorted fruit. Her slender fingers fished a piece of pineapple from the bowl when she just so happened to look over the screen and spot me. With a twinkle in her dark eyes, she pressed her lips around the chunk of citrus and slowly sucked it into her mouth. Then she took an exaggerated amount of time to suck on her index finger, running her tongue around its tip twice before removing it and grinning at me.

It had the effect she was looking for. I could feel my cock twitch in my pants, but apparently that didn’t translate to my face.

Her brow crinkled just above her nose, and she tilted her head to the side inquisitively and asked, "What's up, boss? Something bothering you?"

"Nah," I said as I made my way to the island beside her. "Well, maybe."

I didn’t go into it anymore since she wasn't the only one in the kitchen. Another woman wearing tight-fitting jeans was bent over in front of an oven, pulling out a pan of fresh-baked muffins. The smell of sugary bread mixed with a faint hint of banana filled the air, making this place feel slightly more homey than previously.

The muffins weren't the only pretty sight; the chef was too. I was first introduced to her ass, which was considerable, complimenting her wide hips. Once she stood up, I could tell her build was more like Jessica’s than any other woman in my life, her figure more voluptuous. Unlike Jessica, who had a little extra weight, this woman had a full, shapely physique that looked well cared for. She wore a green short-sleeved shirt tucked into her jeans that displayed a very feminine body with an hourglass shape that did a tremendous job of highlighting beautiful curves.

When she turned to place the muffins on the countertop, two things stood out - this woman had massive tits - larger than Jess's. Her neckline swooped low, showing off a Grand Canyon’s worth of cleavage, and I had difficulty keeping my eyes off them. They could have easily been double D's or even E-cups. They looked full and healthy, stuffed inside whatever bra she was wearing, and I wanted to dive headfirst into those creamy mammaries and smother myself in them. What a way to go.

When I was finally able to tear my eyes away from her breasts, I noticed the second thing that stood out - her face. She was gorgeous, with generous lips, a straight, Roman nose that fit her face perfectly, rosy cheeks that colored a dark cream complexion, and dark, stormy grey eyes. It was framed by a few strands of hair that escaped her caramel-colored bun.

"Hi," I said, steering away from Erin's prying questions, "I'm Marcus." I offered her my hand, and she took it.

"Hello, Mr. Upton," she said. "My name is Camille Dupont. It's lovely to meet you." Her words were accented in French, but not to the point where it took effort to understand. In fact, she spoke English amazingly well.

She extended a hand, and I took it. Her arms and hands declared her profession. Her fingers and palms bore the calluses of her work, but not as many as I’d imagined. Somehow, she managed to keep her hands relatively soft despite the demanding job of a chef. I could see several scars on her arms and hands, cuts and knicks from knives, and burn scars from getting too close to the heat. However, besides the evidence of her profession, her skin was relatively blemish-free. Her fingernails were well cared for - short but smooth.

"You're the new chef?" I asked.

"Oui," she said. "For as long as you like my food, anyway."

"Well,” I said, “if it tastes anything like it smells, I'm sure I'll keep you around for a while."

Erin stood up, retrieved a coffee mug from a cabinet, filled it with a fresh cup, and handed it to me. I took a sip and said, "Goddamn, that's a good cup of coffee. What did you do?"

Camille gave me a mysterious smile and said, "Mm-mm, Mr. Upton. You have no reason to keep me if I tell you how I make everything."

Erin said something in what sounded like perfect French that I couldn't understand, and Camille broke out into a full smile, complete with dimples on each cheek, and snickered. I took another sip of coffee, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of them. This could be a problem.

I was about to ask what was so funny when another voice from behind me cut in, "Morning."

Chloe walked into the kitchen wearing tight, black Lycra pants and a dark red sports bra. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat that emphasized how toned her body was. The muscles in her arms, shoulders, and back rippled with every movement, and her firm ass popped in the near-painted-on fabric. The freckles that prominently dusted her face and arms spread to varying degrees across her chest, shoulders, back, and, to a much lesser extent, along her lower back and abdomen. Speaking of abdomens, hers put everyone else to shame; slight hills and valleys of a well-formed six-pack subtly played underneath her flat belly. She was toned, muscular, and appeared to be in peak physical condition, but she still managed to maintain a feminine quality. Chloe had perfected whatever fine line that required, and my mind conjured multiple dirty things that I could have done to her in the bedroom.

No. That wasn’t right. If anyone was having things done to them in that scenario, it would likely be me. That didn’t make the scenario any less attractive, though.

She gave everyone a little nod and moved with cat-like grace toward the cabinets where Erin had retrieved my cup. She poured a cup for herself, took a sip, and hummed in pleasure.

Camille looked pleased with herself as she turned away from us and began working on more food for our upcoming meeting.

"Went for a run?" I asked.

Chloe shook her head, "No. I set up the workout equipment Erin ordered. We have a gym, and it's back day."

"It sure is," I muttered into my coffee cup.

Camille said something in French to Erin, who responded, and both of them burst into a chorus of giggles, which abruptly died when Chloe said something to them in equally good French. All of us looked at Chloe, but she merely stared at her phone and sipped on her coffee as if she hadn't said anything. Camille and Erin looked at each other as if they'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and then Erin snorted and giggled again, causing Camille to do the same.

"Okay," I said, putting my mug down with an air of authority, "I refuse to let this become a thing."

Erin batted her eyelashes at me and adopted an air of innocence. "Why, Mr. Upton, what are you talking about?"

"Just learn the language," Chloe said without looking up from her phone. "Surprise them when they least expect it."

"Erin and Natashya both speak Russian. You want me to learn all her languages?"

Erin leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, and I could feel the slight residue of her dark lipstick on my skin. "You should've hired the dummy. Fewer languages to learn."

I had a good morning with the ladies. Erin had mentioned that Camille would start while I was gone, so Chloe and she had ample time to get to know the chef. Both confirmed that she made some of the best meals they had ever tasted. Considering her resume and how much I paid her, I wasn’t surprised.

Camille was a twenty-nine-year-old chef who had previously worked in a high-end restaurant in Stockholm when she'd been poached by my assistant. As the accent suggested, she was a French native with a degree from some culinary school I'd never heard of. I learned that she was engaged, and her fiance was a creative director for a Swedish advertising company who was currently looking for work in New York. Part of her package included an apartment in the same building and moving expenses for her and her fiance.

Camille was so beautiful that I was certain Erin had plans for the woman, so when I found out she was engaged, I glanced at Erin in surprise and saw her watching me as if she expected my shock. I hoped she understood my confusion, but I didn't get anything in response. Who knows… maybe Camille was supposed to be a chef and nothing more. To be honest, I could do without the complication… especially with Danni asking the kinds of questions she had this morning. Maybe I needed to lay off on the wingman part of her job.

Chandler arrived precisely at eight in the morning with Helen, who I hadn't seen since I left for Vegas. Erin and I were waiting for them by the elevator doors, and as soon as my lawyer saw me, she gave me a smile that even touched her eyes, something of a rarity for her.

"Marcus, dear boy!" Chandler said, stepping forward and grasping my hand in both of his. He was grinning ear-to-ear as he shook it vigorously, and I winced. It felt like electrical currents were coursing through my muscles. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" he said, letting go of my hand as if he'd touched a hot stove.

"No, it's okay," I said, genuinely happy to see Chandler after what I'd gone through. He always seemed to be in high spirits and raised those of the people he was around. "It's good to see you again, Chandler. I guess you heard about what really happened in Vegas?"

"Of course! Helen told me right away. I was prepared to do whatever I could to hold the hounds at bay, but I'm certainly happy to see you in one piece." He looked a little closer at my face. The swelling had subsided, but the right side was still mottled with browns and yellows. "Relatively speaking, of course."

"Yeah," I agreed, touching the bruises.

Helen touched Chandler's arm and said, "Before we get started, I need a moment with Marcus, if you don't mind."

"Of course not!" Chandler said. "Don't take too long, though!” He looked back at me and leaned in conspiratorially. “I was supposed to have you on Monday, so we have our work cut out for us, my boy."

"Come on, Mr. Grayson," Erin said, slipping an arm through his. "We've set up a good breakfast to get us started."

"Oh, good! I am famished!" The two wandered toward the room we'd set up for our meeting.

As soon as they were gone, Helen flung herself at me. I winced, thinking this would hurt more than Chandler's greeting, but her touch softened when she came in contact with me. She wrapped her arms gently around my neck and pulled me into a loose embrace. She was wearing heels, which made her nearly eye-level with me as we faced each other only inches apart. Her ice-blue irises darted from my eyes to my lips, and then she leaned in for a kiss. It wasn't the heated kiss of a succubus from hell that I was used to from her. It was sensual but warm and sweet like honey drizzled over bread. Her lips gently caressed mine, and the tip of her tongue lapped lazily at our meeting point. Her contented hum was so quiet that I could feel it more than hear it.

When she parted, her gaze still held a warmth I wasn't used to seeing from her. "I'm so glad you're okay, Marcus," she whispered.

I had briefly toyed with the idea that Helen might have had something to do with my kidnapping, but this greeting dragged my suspicions into a dark alley and shot them in the head. I doubted Helen could fake this level of sincerity and felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

"Me too," I replied, cupping her cheek and kissing her again.

"Are you busy tonight?" She asked. "There's something I'd like to show you."

That could only mean one thing - sex.

"Helen, as much as I want to, Erin and Danni woke me up last night and nearly killed me. I don't know if I can-"

"It'll be worth it," she purred, giving me a half-smile. "Trust me."

I swallowed and decided that Helen had definitely earned this. Also, even though I was already exhausted, I could feel my libido sniffing around curiously at the implications behind Helen's words. Despite my better judgment, I nodded. "Okay."

Her smile widened, and she kissed me again. "Good. Now, let's get the boring stuff out of the way, shall we?"

We spent the next eight hours eating well and reviewing some of the finer details of VistaVision. It had subsidiaries, employees numbering in the tens of thousands, and spanned multiple industries. The company was known primarily for its entertainment sector, making movies and television. It had literature and toy lines, and a couple of resorts had spun off the brand - including one that had completely taken over a couple of islands in the Caribbean.

Each subsidiary had its own CEO who answered to Chandler, and those subsidiaries included industries like internet hosting, telecommunications, video games, clothing, paper products, and several others. Apparently, VistaVision even owned one of the larger porn companies through a series of other subsidiaries.

"Wait? Porn?" I asked. "You're telling me that I own a porn company?"

"You own a significant portion of a porn company," Chandler corrected. “It mostly hosts other content, but it's also engaged in production in the last two years. It's quite the revenue-earner."

"Did I read this right?" Erin said as she flipped through her copy of Chandler's notes for the meeting. "They have their own R&D?"

"Er... yes."

Erin looked at me, and I immediately got the message that we needed to check it out. I couldn’t blame her. I was curious to see what kind of research and development they did at a porn company.

Chandler explained the intricacies of the company's by-laws regarding voting on the board. Anyone with less than a one percent stake in the company didn't get voting power. When voting on a decision, the winner had the largest percentage of those voting. Voters had to be present in person or on a phone call for their shares to count. The winner was the one with the highest percentage of votes represented. I held forty percent of the company and was by far the largest shareholder.

He went on to explain that while most of the board wanted Kelly, Hiro Tanaka was amenable to keeping Chandler on as CEO in exchange for some building contracts through his company. He owned seven percent of the company and got us to the needed forty-nine percent when you counted Chandler's two percent stake. As a cherry on top, Chandler reassured me that Wayne Prudem, who owned another five percent of the company, would also throw in with Chandler and Marcus, as he was a long-time friend of the interim CEO.

The opposing members of the board included a short list of people, some of whom I had never heard of, but others caught my attention.

"Nina Haley... that's..."

"Your aunt," Chandler finished."She's essentially leading the charge for Maddox."

"And she isn't interested in meeting? Maybe I can find some way of earning her trust."

"Unlikely. Though you're technically family, she sees you as more of a usurper than anything. Your inheritance of everything bypasses Colin's offspring, including her."

“Still… can you see if you can arrange something? I know I’m standing between her and billions of dollars, and I can’t blame her for being mad at me, but I’d like to try.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Chandler said, but his tone didn’t sound very confident.

Kelly Maddox was also on the board list. Apparently, she'd been allowed to keep the shares she had received while working for my grandfather, giving her voting rights, but since she only owned three percent, it wasn’t much power. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was playing at or why so many people had faith in her when the big-bad Gerrard patriarch had so little faith in her near the end of their relationship.

"Hey," I said. "Do you have a picture of Kelly?"

"I believe so," Chandler said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it. He slid his phone to me face up, and I saw an image of a man in her middle to late thirties. She had short, charcoal, wavy hair and wore glasses. Her lips were painted wine red, and her fingernails were lacquered to match. Her smile was minimal, giving me the impression she was being forced to do it more than anything else. She had a severe look but was undoubtedly hot; she reminded me of Regina - one of the three candidates for Erin's position.

This was good. Now, my enemy had a face and a name, which was always helpful in making them seem less intimidating. Unfortunately, it also quashed the suspicion that she had been trying to get information from me at the warehouse. Damn. I would have bet a million dollars on that one.

“Thanks,” I said and pushed the phone back to him. I looked down at Chandler’s handout and said, “What is Brantwood Holdings, and why do they own fifteen percent of the company?”

“It’s a firm that acts as a single entity to maintain voting rights. They hold their own meetings in advance and act in the interest of their clients.”

“And they’re firmly behind Maddox?” Helen asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Chandler said. “Trying to get them to change their vote is next to impossible. For one thing, it would require convincing too many people. Second, they keep their client list private. I wouldn’t know where to begin if I thought there was a chance of convincing them.”

Damn. That was a shame. There was only one other besides me that had that many shares.

“Who’s Michael Ross?” I asked.

“He represents the twins. Your half-siblings. They never show up to these things and have a lawyer on retainer to represent them in all matters pertaining to VistaVision. It’s essentially been that way since they were estranged by their grandfather. I would honestly love to have a face-to-face with them, but they haven’t returned any of my calls. As your grandfather put it, they’re... spoiled.”

I hadn’t even gotten over the fact that I’d had a wealthy father and that my grandfather had recently died and left me with billions upon billions. Now, I had to face the fact that I had family out there who hated me before I even knew they existed. I wanted to know what it would take to get in touch with them. Surely, Nina could be reasoned with; maybe she was a proverbial foot in the door to meeting the rest of the family. It hardly seemed fair that they all saw me as persona non-grata before getting to know me. Of course, it was hardly fair that I inherited more money than I could ever spend either.

I looked at my phone and noticed the time. We’d been here for ten hours.

“It’s getting late,” I said, looking around the room at partially glazed eyes and plates emptied of food an hour ago. “Chandler, if you can secure a meeting with Wayne and Hiro before Monday, I’d be happy to meet with them and do whatever I can to explain that we want their trust.”

“It might require meeting with them separately, given the time constraints, but I’ll see what I can do,” he said as he gathered his stuff. “And I’ll let you know if Nina allows me to contact her. However, I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

“I’ll see Chandler out. I have a couple of other small matters to cover with him,” Helen said.

“Sounds good,” I said and wished Chandler good luck before they left, leaving me alone with Erin, who was furiously typing away on her phone. She muttered something.

“What?” I asked. She had seemed distracted throughout the meeting and now seemed a little flustered. It was understandable. I had difficulty paying attention every moment, but Erin always seemed impervious to distraction unless she intended it and had always seemed unflappable.

“Oh, nothing,” she said. “I’ve just been working on this thing together for tomorrow night.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly understanding why she seemed distracted. “I didn’t think-”

“It’s no problem. I’m just stretched a little thin today. I have someone to do a lot of the heavy lifting on short notice. I am looking forward to you getting a household manager, though. It’ll make my job a lot easier.”

“Where are we on that?” I asked.

“It’s an important position, so I’m being very ***********ive,” Erin said. “I’ll have a list of final candidates for you to go over next week.”

“Sure,” I said. “Just say the word.”

After leaving Erin to take care of the mountain of work I’d given her, I had a few more phone calls to return. I spent some time in my study talking to Natalie, who was relieved to hear from me. She seemed a little upset that she had been stone-walled by Helen when she asked for me when I didn’t show up on Monday, but I guess I saw it from Helen’s point of view. The last thing any of us needed was for it to become public knowledge that I’d been kidnapped. That could seriously upset our plans for VistaVision just before our meeting, and while I trusted Natalie implicitly, Helen didn’t. Whether I liked it or not, Natalie wasn’t in my inner circle.

I tried to smooth things over with her by telling her a truncated version of the kidnapping story and that Helen had been acting under orders because public opinion could affect important events. She hadn't been happy, but at least she'd been understanding.

It turned out her new boyfriend was better than she had expected, which I wasn’t overjoyed to hear. She confided that he had plans to whisk her away soon to his vacation home for an extended weekend. I told her she could take whatever time she needed, but I hated doing it. I had crushed on Natalie for a long time, and it wasn't going to go away overnight.

I tried calling my parents but got my younger brother instead. I was surprised to find out that Richie had come with them. Not only that, but he'd brought his girlfriend with him, which I found terribly unfair. My mom would have never let me do something like that. Parents really are softer on the younger siblings. Dad was out getting food with one of my security, and mom was taking a bath. I told him about the party tomorrow and that I wanted them there.

Then I returned Henry’s call; he found Ashlee.

"She's back in New York and is currently staying on campus with a friend."

"Why would she do that?" I asked.

"My guess would be to avoid her stepmother," Henry said, "but the only way to be sure would be to ask her."

"I’ve tried texting and calling since last night, but she hasn’t responded," I admitted.

"Would you like to explore alternative options?"

"What do you suggest?" I asked, trying to understand what he meant by that.

"You could wait for her to come to you," Psalter mused, "or I could bring her to you at a specified location."

I recalled Chloe offering a similar solution and imagined Ashlee strapped to a chair and waterboarded like I was. Jesus, what was with the spooks and their eagerness for blood? Still, I entertained the idea. Ashlee was one of only a handful of people who knew where I'd been when the mercenaries appeared on that rooftop. Ashlee disappeared after my kidnapping, and Ashlee was the one showing up in photos with Cartwright. The evidence wasn't exactly stacked in her favor.

But did that mean she deserved the treatment Chloe and Psalter were suggesting?

"No,” I finally responded. “I need to see her, but I don't want you bringing her somewhere with a bag over her head. I'll keep texting and calling. Just see what you can do to put pressure on her."

"I believe I can accommodate that request," he said.

"Any idea who tried to kidnap me or what was on that drive they were asking for?"

"Unfortunately, no. The mercenaries were hired by an organization called Hatchfield, but as you can probably guess, it's a shell corporation. The paper trail gets difficult to follow, and that's my only real lead on this flash drive the woman asked about. I recommend getting people you trust to go over your grandfather's estate with a toothcomb and look for anything related.

"What are you suggesting?"

"That Colin Gerrard gave you an obscene inheritance tied to massive corporations, countless properties, and socio-political schemes. You've inherited things you don't even comprehend. Understanding that inheritance is the best way to know more about that flash drive. Not only that, but it is also the best means to unmask your enemies."

Henry was right. I needed to start looking more into what my grandfather gave me and not just on fun ways to spend it. "Alright. I'll see what we can find out."

"And I'll see what I can do about flushing out Miss VanCamp."

By the time I was done and left my study, it was a little after eight in the evening. Helen had asked if I was busy tonight, so I texted to see if she was back in my apartment after doing whatever she needed with Chandler. She texted back that she was and gave me directions to a specific room on the west wing of my apartment. It was an area I had spent a little time in since it was on the opposite side of my bedroom and the kitchen.

However, before going there, I had one more thing to do. I told Helen I would be there in about thirty minutes and set off toward Natashya’s room. It was bothering me that we hadn’t spoken yet.

I approached her room, eyeing the bottom of the door for any sign of light, but was disappointed. I stalled in front of the door, thinking I didn't want to wake her, but if there was any chance I could talk to her, I didn't want to miss it. I felt responsible for what she'd gone through and wanted to make sure we were okay. My fingers closed gently around the knob to her bedroom, and I cracked it open just enough to let light spill into the dark bedroom. A dim strip of illumination fell over the bed, and I saw blankets stir. I opened my mouth to whisper her name but stopped short when I heard, "Shhh."

I considered protesting but also wanted to be sensitive to Natashya and whatever she was dealing with, so I shut the door without any argument. Feeling defeated, I turned and quietly walked away when the door opened, and Emily slipped into the hallway. She wore red flannel pajama bottoms, a white spaghetti tank top with a simple bra underneath, and her hair hung down her back in a glossy sheet of chocolate-colored strands. I smiled, realizing I hadn’t seen my sister since I fell asleep in Shea’s lap in the back of that SUV. God, she was a sight for sore eyes right about now. She returned my smile but gestured for us to move down the hall.

We were sitting on a plush leather couch in the main living room a few minutes later. Emily sat close enough that she reached out and brushed her fingertips along my bruised face; I closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of her gentle touch. Maybe it was the abuse, but for some reason, I felt like I couldn’t get enough physical affection, and every hug and caress felt magnified tenfold.

“What did they do to you, Marcus?”

I shook my head, not wanting to talk about myself. “Nothing I won’t get over. I need to know how Natashya is.”

At first, she didn’t respond. Her irises, the color of sun-bleached gravel, dropped to the hardwood floors. Finally, she said, “They did things to her.”

My sister didn’t need to say anything else. I understood the implications.

“Fuck,” I said, my heart breaking. “I’m so sorry, Emily.”

Emily looked back at me. “You didn’t do anything, Marcus.”

“She was with me. They took her because of me. It’s my fault.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Natashya’s a big girl, and she decided to hang out with you. We both did. You were surrounded by bodyguards who were constantly watching for threats. We knew what we were getting into.”

I snorted. “No you didn’t. I didn’t even know that.”

“You know what I mean,” she protested.

“Is she mad at me?”

“No,” Emily said. “She loves the hell out of you for what you tried to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marcus, we could hear you down the hallway. You were screaming at them when they had a gun to her head. You said some pretty brave stuff, and even strapped to a chair, you may have saved her from getting shot by that last guy… the one holding her. As far as she’s concerned, you can do no wrong.”

“I didn’t do much,” I protested, feeling like the last thing I deserved was this kind of praise. “We would have been dead if it hadn’t been for you guys.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. She knows who saved you both, but that doesn’t diminish what you did. She…” Emily had to take a breath to keep herself from getting choked up before continuing. “She told me some of her history, and it’s not good. She says no one has had her back like that.”

I felt my eyes sting and blinked several times as I felt the overwhelming relief that she didn’t hate me. I swallowed, trying to get my emotions under control, and then looked back up at Emily. She looked at me like I’d just hung the moon. A small part of me liked the feeling; most of me hated it.

“Can I see her?” I finally asked.

“Not tonight,” Emily said. “She fell asleep about thirty minutes ago. She’s still healing from several cracked ribs, among other things. She’s also raw... mentally, I mean.”

“You mean...”

“Yeah,” she said, and Emily started to let those unshed tears fall. “I know there’s a lot I haven’t shared with you about LA, but I’m in a really good position to help her.”

I nodded. I had my suspicions about Emily’s time in Los Angeles and the abuse that had gone on there, but she’d always been so quiet about all of it. Her words now all but confirmed what I had already guessed.

“God, Marcus. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. I wish I had a tenth of her strength. She told me it’s not the first time this has happened to her. She seems okay, but I can tell it’s bothering her. She keeps having nightmares, so I’ve been with her most nights. I think she needs at least one more night to just... process.”

I nodded. “That’s fine. She can take all the time she needs. Tell her not to worry about a job. I’ll keep paying The Starlight. I’ll keep paying her rate, and her medical bills are-”

Emily enveloped me in a hug, pressing her warm body into mine as she held me close and whispered, “Thank you, Marcus.” I could feel her warm tears slide between our cheeks and enjoyed the feeling of being close to her without having to endure any significant pain. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” I whispered back. “Anything she needs - anything at all.”

We held each other for a long moment, and when we finally pulled back, I reached up, cupped a cheek, and slid my thumb across it, removing a fresh tear. “What about you? The both of you, I mean?”

“We’re just friends right now,” Emily said. “There’s been a little kissing, but I’m just her friend for now. That’s what she needs.”

“Good,” I said, watching her closely. Despite all the heavy shit we’d just shared with each other, I could tell something was still weighing her down. “Is everything else okay?”

Emily’s sweet smile faded into a look of utter despair. Her lower lip trembled. “They recast my part.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I missed the first day of rehearsals,” she said, trying not to sound too sad, but the look of devastation on her face was unmistakable. “The casting was close, and when I didn’t show up on Monday, they brought in the other girl. She did a good enough job, so they’re sticking with her.”

My sister’s career - another casualty that was my direct responsibility.

I felt my spine stiffen. “No way! It’s not fair!”

She shrugged and tried to smile. “That’s showbiz. On top of that, my rent is coming due, and one of my roommates moved out, so I’ll have to ask Charlotte for a little extra time to make rent.”

“Em, let me-”

“No, Marcus,” Emily said, her voice firm. “You’ve done enough for me. I’m not about to let you pay my rent too.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” I protested. “Why don’t you move in here?”

Emily shook her head and opened her mouth to say something, but it was my turn to cut her off. “No, listen. I have more rooms than I could ever use. Take one of them. It costs me nothing. You can come and go as you please and use whatever you want. This place is massive, so you’ll have your privacy.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know Mom and Dad won’t take anything, but I’m going to pay off their mortgage at the very least and insist on giving them a trip wherever they want. Richie’s insanely intelligent and is going to get a full scholarship, I know, but I’m setting him up with a safety cushion just in case, and I’m going to create a bank account under Haley’s name and make sure she has funds that Jacob can’t access. I don’t know what that’ll do to my relationship with him, but that’s a future problem. If I’m taking care of the rest of my family, why not you? Especially when you’re the favorite anyway.”

Emily simply stared back at me, her lips pursed as she contemplated my words while looking at me with those big, bright eyes.

“Let me do this at least... And let me talk to the theater. You lost the role because of me. Let me fix it.”

Once again, she looked at me like I was the second coming of Christ.

“If you weren’t my brother, I would kiss you on the mouth,” she breathed.

I didn’t know what to say in response to that. Part of me wanted to slap her on the shoulder and tease her for saying something so obviously gross, but in response to her words, I just so happened to look down at the generous amount of cleavage her tank top was showing off. I remembered seeing her naked, on her knees, and straddling Natashya. I recalled seeing her heavy breasts pulled high against her chest as she held her hair back.

“I take it that’s a yes?” I said, stomping out the images forming in my head.

Emily stared at me for a long moment, looking like she might start crying again. Then she finally said, “You’re a good man, Marcus.” She blinked and looked away, and at that moment, she seemed like the vulnerable, tender little girl I had grown up with. That strange tension I felt between us was gone instantly; all I wanted to do was hold my sister, so I did.

I enveloped her in my arms and pulled her close, cradling her head as I stroked her hair. I didn’t respond when I felt her shoulders shake. I just kissed the top of her head and let her get it all out. She and Natashya had gone through a lot, and I cared for them deeply. There, in the low light of my living room, I promised myself that neither of them would be hurt like that again. If anyone could make that happen, it was me.

Eventually, she settled down, and we spent the next twenty minutes talking about the logistics of her move-in and about how surprised Mom and Dad would be when they suddenly noticed that their mortgage had been paid. I wanted to do more, but we both agreed that my family was made up of proud people… it would take time to get to that point. Once we were done, we stood up and hugged once more, a long, tight embrace that seemed to last minutes. Then she gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek and headed back to Natashya, leaving me alone in the living room.

I considered going to bed. I was emotionally drained from my conversation with Emily and mentally exhausted from my time with Chandler, Helen, and Erin. At the same time, I was strangely horny, and I knew Helen had something special planned. In fact, I had a pretty good idea of what was waiting for me. I’d left her with a task, and Helen was nothing if not determined and resourceful. I had a feeling Bobbi was with her.

That left my stomach twisting in knots.

After being captured and abused for three days, I was questioning the justification I had for what I’d done to Bobbi. Sure, there was a difference - Bobbi was a poor wretch of a woman who had wasted her life thus far, being a total bitch to everyone around her. She leeched off people and only saw success by allying herself with similar creatures. As far as I knew, she had very few redeemable traits. I, on the other hand, felt like I was a pretty decent guy. I didn’t think I would win a Nobel Peace Prize, but I had my good moments. I was a relatively good person who had been captured by bad people. Bobbi wasn’t, and that felt justified.

Besides the differences in our situation, I really liked having Bobbi like this. She was scorching hot, and something about seeing her submit to me really got my juices pumping. Seeing the fury in her eyes as we hate-fucked… I didn’t want to give that up.

Still… Bobbi was just as human as I was, and I wasn’t sure I had a right to do whatever I wanted to her, even if I had the means and motive.

I reached the door of the room Helen had told me to enter and knocked on it just like she’d asked. A few moments passed, and the door opened a fraction. Helen peered at me through the opening and said, “Marcus? Are you alone?”

“It’s just me,” I replied, my stomach doing somersaults. I opened my mouth to tell her that maybe we should do this another night, but the door shut before I could say anything.

Then it opened, and I heard Helen’s muted words. “Come in.”

I stood in the doorway, trying to comprehend what I was looking at.

The room was dimly lit by a couple of standing lamps in the far corners. The walls had been lined with a black material that seemed to absorb some of the ambient noise as well as the light. Along one wall hung a rack with various implements: crops, whips, rope, harnesses, and gags. A shelf held several types of oils, dildos, vibrators, and anal plugs. A pulley system hung from the ceiling with a pair of fleece-lined cuffs dangling from a rope threaded through the wheel.

Several eyelets protruded from the walls and floor, and more ropes and chains hung from them. In one corner stood a structure that resembled a sawhorse, and a swing hung from the ceiling next to it. Several other interesting pieces took up most of the room, but in the center stood the main attraction.

Bobbi was on her knees, straddling a sybian. Her hands were bound by cuffs, and chains connected them to eyelets on the floor in front of her while a leash had been linked to the floor behind her. The combination prevented her from doing anything other than sit firmly on the vibrating saddle as she maintained a rigid posture. She was nude except for the collar around her throat that said “Marcus’ Pet’ and a red ball gag shoved in her mouth. Makeup had been applied, giving her cheeks a light blush, and mascara left tracks down her face, implying that the tears responsible for them were relatively old.

I couldn’t look away from the helpless young woman strapped to the floor for my amusement as I stepped into the room, and she returned that look with…

I expected hatred, but instead, I saw hope.

Helen shut the door behind me, and I looked over my shoulder at her. She leaned against it and ran her hands up and down the mysterious fabric as she gave me a truly evil smile. Her hair was in a golden bun, and a black choker wrapped around her fair throat. She wore a black leather corset that molded an already sinful body into further perfection. Matching leather high-heeled boots stopped mid-thigh and added several extra inches to her height. Her lips were painted dark red, and she applied dark eyeliner to magnify her ice-blue eyes.

“Before anything else, you should know that this room is entirely soundproof,” she purred.

I looked back down at Bobbi and stared into eyes more desperate than I’d ever seen in a person. A reflection from one of the lamps caught my eye, and I realized that her pale inner thighs were absolutely coated in her own arousal. The sybian was drenched. Fuck… I could even see dark stains on the floor around her. I closed my eyes to shut out the image of absolute debauchery in front of me, but all I could see when I shut my eyes was Bobbi desperately looking up at me.

God, if you’re up there, please make me a good man.

“It’s been a little more than two hours,” Helen whispered into my ear, “and the poor darling still hasn’t cum.”

I felt Helen’s hands slip over my shoulders and slide down my chest, dark red fingernails gently running up and down my chest before unfastening the top button of my shirt. I felt her soft lips graze the back of my neck, and I shivered. My cock was already at complete attention. Bobbi whimpered through the gag loud enough to be heard over the low hum of the Sybian, a long, mournful, pleading note.

But not yet.

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Thanks again for reading another installment of the story. If you have any feedback, please feel free to email me. Or if you’re interested in reading any further installments, check out my Patreon at patreon.com/mindsketch. Chapters up to 42 are posted there already, and a LOT of extra dirty bonus chapters. Thanks for your time and cheers!

-MindSketch