It was like opening the valve on a boiler to release all that building pressure—a sweet reprieve from all the building grief.
Dillon, Jonah, Kwan, Richie, Vikram, and Chandler. My friends surrounded me—both new and old—and as I sat there, I watched them interact with each other.
Erin had been right. I needed this.
“…And then this fool pops one of those Betty Crocker Tupperware lids out of his fucking freezer—and the motherfucker is full of frozen piss!”
“How have I never heard this story before!?” Richie demanded, shooting me an accusatory glare.
Dillon placed a hand on Richie’s shoulder and grinned wildly. “Oh, come talk to me. I’ll give you all the dirt on this motherfucker.”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, barely suppressing his laughter long enough to continue. “So Marcus walks down the hall with this disc of frozen piss and shoves that motherfucker under Jeff’s door as hard as he can.”
Chandler leaned back in his chair, his expression twisting in disgust. “Ugh! Disgusting!”
“You don’t know the half of it, dude!” Dillon cackled. “Forget the weekend! That poor asshole didn’t come back to his dorm until halfway through the next week! His whole room smelled like piss!”
“Frozen pee?” Vikram asked incredulously. “Seriously… where do you even come up with that?”
“Dude gets creative in a prank war,” Kwan said, lifting his beer. “College would’ve been a lot less fun without him.”
“Between him and Dillon, I imagine college was a blast,” Richie said.
“Shit… that’s all I did,” Dillon replied, smirking.
“You lasted… what, two semesters?” Jonah chimed in.
Dillon shrugged. “School wasn’t for me, and I don’t need it. I like what I do.”
“And you do it very well,” I said, raising my beer toward him.
Dillon grinned. “Hell yeah, I do.”
I sipped my beer and did my best to live in the moment, not dwelling on anything else.
That was hard.
It had been five days since I’d sent Ryo Tanaka’s finger to his father, and I still hadn’t heard a word. It was all I’d thought about since Chloe snipped that little finger off like it was a dead twig on the end of a tree. Now, all I wanted to know was what Hiro Tanaka was thinking.
And I hadn’t heard a goddamn thing.
The world was roiling around me. The dogs of war were nipping at my heels, and all I could do for the past several days was check my phone every fifteen minutes like some high school boy waiting for a girl to call him back.
I checked my phone again.
Nothing.
“Why do you keep checking your phone?” Kwan asked, craning his neck to peek over the table where my phone was partially hidden. “Everyone you know is here.”
“My mom’s not here,” I pointed out.
“You’re texting your mom?”
I hesitated. “No.”
“Then who are you texting?”
“I’m just checking my phone,” I insisted. “I’m a busy guy. I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but I’ve got a lot going on.”
Dillon, Jonah, and Kwan had a vague understanding of what was happening in my world. They knew I was in some kind of corporate entanglement with other rich people, but that was about it. Chandler and Vikram knew a little more. None of them knew that I had Ryo Tanaka locked in one of my apartments, nursing a days-old stump where his pinky used to be.
Vikram was the only one who knew the NYPD suspected me of killing Rajesh Desai.
If they all knew everything going on in my life, I suspected they would have a little more sympathy for my distraction.
“Oh, let the boy read his messages in peace,” Chandler said. “He has board members, managers, lawyers, and regulations officers breathing down his neck. Frankly, I’m surprised that he has time to bash around with the lot of us.”
“Yeah… about that,” Jonah said, setting down his beer. “Thanks for this, buddy. We all know you’ve got a lot going on right now. Hell—you’ve already been through a lot.”
He looked around the table. “But I think we can all agree that we owe a lot to you. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve never met Rachel.”
Rachel was Honey’s actual name, and in the time that they’d met, they had gone from fuck buddies to an actual couple. They were even discussing the possibility of moving in together.
“I would’ve never met Kelly,” Dillon said.
Not really in a relationship, Kelly and Dillon were more classified as friends with benefits… still allowing each other to sleep with others, which I had benefitted from.
“I would’ve lost my position at VistaVision and likely wouldn’t be there at all,” Chandler added grimly. I had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t thrilled about his title right about now. He hadn’t been subjected to my level of hell, but the CEO of VistaVision had gone through his fair share of woes since last Friday.
“I wouldn’t have met Venus,” Vikram said, “or been able to spend some time with her in a Scottish castle.”
“My big bro’s hooking me up with a free place to live off-campus,” my eighteen-year-old brother said. “And he’s letting me drink beer.”
Everyone turned toward Kwan.
He looked at all of us as if we were crazy. “Don’t look at me. The only thing I’ve got to show for it is a make-out session with a hot MILF who ghosted me.”
Jonah knuckled his shoulder playfully.
“Anyway, you could’ve forgotten about us. But you didn’t. You’re a good friend, Marcus.”
He held up his bottle. “None of us will forget what your friendship means.”
“Here, here,” Kwan and Vikram said together, clinking their bottles against Jonah’s.
“Especially since our best friend’s worth billions of dollars,” Dillon added, bumping the neck of his bottle into the others.
“To Marcus,” Chandler said solemnly, raising his own beer. “A fine young man who has much to teach us about friendship.”
Richie grinned and joined in, his bottle clinking softly with the rest.
I felt the corners of my eyes sting a little at the sentiment they’d just shared.
“Guys… I don’t know what to say.”
I looked around the table—Dillon, with his carefree grin; Jonah, steady as ever; Kwan, quiet and sincere. Since I’d come into my wealth, I’d made two new friends in Vikram and Chandler. Sure, they were technically in my employ, but I was pretty sure I could count them among my friends.
And then there was Richie—my little brother. I made a silent vow, right then and there, that no matter what happened to me in the near future, I’d always be the kind of brother he’d be proud of… the kind of brother he’d want to be around. I wouldn’t be Jacob.
“You’ve all been an important part of my life,” I said, lifting my beer. “You’ve helped shape it into what it is today. I couldn’t do this without each and every one of you. You guys are proof that friendship is worth more than all the money in the world.”
What followed was a round of low murmurs — that awkward, shuffling kind of agreement men give when they’ve reached the limit of their sentimentality. It didn’t matter. They’d said how they felt. I hoped they knew how I felt, too.
“So what’s next?” I asked, reaching across the table to grab a shrimp from one of the platters.
Jonah glanced toward the garden. “Rachel said she and Erin have planned something for us. I figure we hang out until we find out what it is.”
“Yeah,” Dillon snorted. “I’m sure you’d hate to disappoint them.”
My phone started buzzing, and I stood immediately, glancing down to see who it was as I stepped away from the table.
“Who is it?” Dillon asked.
I slowed, reading the screen. Astrid again.
“Is it Natalie?” Kwan asked.
“No,” I said, disappointed that it wasn’t Tanaka.
As usual, I clicked on Astrid’s message to see what little treat she’d sent me this time. At this point, opening them was more habit than hope.
However, unlike the others, this one didn’t have a picture. There was no sexy half-nude selfie that probably took twenty minutes and fifteen retakes before she got it just right. No salacious caption urging me to get my ass over there.
Just two words: Call me.
The abrupt change in tone was almost enough to make me do it.
“So where are you guys at now?” Kwan asked.
I looked up from the phone and blinked at him. “Hm?”
“You and Natalie,” he said. “Are you a couple yet?”
“No.”
It was strange. The night after Hiro’s last attack, Natalie had come over to keep me company while I was in my drunken stupor. That next morning, I’d confessed everything to her, and she’d taken it like a champ. The sex that followed had been spectacular. I’d had better, sure, but for her, it was great. She left me in high spirits, off to grab coffee while I visited Tara in the gym.
The next time I saw her, though, things felt… different.
Considering I’d just cut off Ryo Tanaka’s finger and was now the NYPD’s number-one suspect in Rajesh Desai’s death, I’d been a little too preoccupied to notice at first, but over the next twenty-four hours, there were signs.
If the intimacy between us had been at a level ten that Saturday morning, it was at a six by that evening. Afterward, when I asked her if everything was okay, she told me she was fine, just a little nervous after my morning confession. The Marcus from two months ago would’ve believed that, but after spending so much time surrounded primarily by women, I’d started to pick up on the subtleties of female communication. Something had happened, and I had no clue what.
“We’re playing it slow,” I finally said, shoving my hands into my pockets and forgetting all about Astrid’s cryptic message. Now, my thoughts were drawn to Natalie.
Jonah made a disapproving face. “Why? She’s clearly into you, man. You’ve been pining after her forever. Close the deal.”
“It’s not that simple,” Vikram said, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve seen the women around him.”
He suddenly looked over his shoulder, half expecting one of them to appear. Satisfied that none had, he went on. “I mean, Natalie’s a pretty girl, but stacked against Charity or Erin?”
“Not to mention Shea,” Kwan added.
“Oh! What about that one chick…” Dillon snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Daria? Your trainer?”
“Tara,” I corrected.
“Dude! She is fucking fine!”
“Don’t I know it,” I murmured.
“It’s Charity,” Richie said suddenly. “If Marcus doesn’t lock that down, he’s an idiot.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Got a little crush, do we?”
Richie turned beet red and took a long sip of beer instead of answering.
I leaned back against the half-wall that bordered the rooftop and took a swig of my own beer, eyeing my brother in amusement. “I’ll take relationship advice from you when you stop being an idiot yourself.”
While I’d been gallivanting around Europe, Richie had decided to unburden himself of his high school relationship. I mean, it made sense. Long-distance rarely worked, and he was eighteen—a young man with a bright future and a world full of options. Still, from what I remembered of Megan, who he’d brought to my house during the first party, she’d been sweet as hell and doted on him constantly. Plus, she’d been cute as a button.
“I can’t believe you gave up that little redheaded cutie.”
Richie gaped at me. “What!? That was mutual! Besides, how much were we really going to see each other? It’s not like I’ll be going home all the time.”
I snorted and held up a finger. “First of all, Mom said it definitely wasn’t mutual. She told me Megan was crying her eyes out for days.”
The mention of a crying girl suddenly had me flashing back to Danni and her tears over brunch as I broke things off with her. She’d also been a sweet, doting cutie.
Careful, I told myself. That pot’s starting to sound an awful lot like the kettle.
I shook off the thought and pressed on. “Second, I’m pretty sure your rich brother would’ve let you take a helicopter home.”
Richie gave me a guilty look.
“Relax, dude. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, smirking now, “speaking of helicopters home—Mom’s getting annoyed that you haven’t visited her in months.”
“Shots fired,” Jonah muttered.
“I think she wants to do something special for your birthday,” Richie said.
“Oh, that’s right! You’ve got a birthday coming up next month!” Jonah’s eyes lit up.
“Dibs on planning that shit!” Dillon said immediately.
I inwardly groaned. I’d never been much of a birthday guy.
Not that I had any say in the matter. I had a strong suspicion that Erin was cooking up something special.
“Get in line,” I said. “You’ve got at least two other people who’ll probably want that spot, and if I’m being real with you… they’d win.”
“Bro,” Dillon said, leaning forward. “You can’t let Natalie plan this thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’ll probably be boring as fuck!”
“You don’t know that.”
“You can’t let Emily plan it either,” Kwan added. “Same reason.”
“Relax,” I said. “It’ll probably be Erin. Maybe Emiko.”
“That’s who I’d get to plan mine,” Dillon said, clearly a little too enthusiastic about the idea.
“Let’s not get off track,” Kwan said, smirking. “What’s the deal? Are you and Natalie gonna be a thing or not?”
“I honestly can’t tell you,” I said.
Kwan and Jonah both rolled their eyes.
“Look, I’m sorry! Like Vikram said, I’m involved with more than one woman. I’m not sure a girlfriend-type relationship can survive that kind of thing.”
Vikram sat with his elbows on the table, peeling the label off his beer bottle in slender strips. “You mean to tell me you don’t plan on giving all that up just to settle down with one girl? Shocker.”
“Exactly!” I said, pointing at him.
“I get it,” Jonah said with a shrug. “It’s just that you’ve been waiting so long for Natalie.”
“If I may,” Chandler began, his voice calm and deliberate, “there is something to the expression ‘variety is the spice of life.’ No one’s denying that Marcus would be giving up an awful lot for the sake of a relationship with one woman. Most men would give much to be in his position.”
He had everyone’s attention now.
“However,” he continued, “there is also virtue in seeking the love and loyalty of one woman. King Solomon—said to be the wisest man who ever lived—once wrote, ‘He who finds a virtuous woman finds a wonderful thing.’”
He lifted his beer slightly before taking a sip. “I’m not saying Marcus should give up the opportunities he has now… only that he shouldn’t lightly shrug off the beauty of a long-lasting bond with another. Beauty fades, and the libido wanes. Carnal pleasures are fleeting. Companionship is something that truly lasts.”
The table went quiet for a few moments.
“Well said,” Jonah murmured.
Chandler tilted his beer toward him in acknowledgment and drank in silence.
“Bro,” Dillon finally said, breaking the quiet. “If you don’t at least bang Tara before you settle down and get whipped, I’m gonna be so disappointed in you.”
“Well, you might be in—”
“Heeeeyy!”
Dillon cut me off as he jumped to his feet and pointed toward the gardens, where six lithe, feminine figures emerged from the shadows of the garden.
The one in front was Honey. She wore a simple wraparound skirt paired with leggings and a loose-fitting top that stopped just above her waist, leaving a few inches of bare midriff visible. The shirt’s plunging V-neckline showed off a generous sweep of cleavage.
Flanking her on her left and right were two women whose presence mirrored the gentle grace of Jonah’s girlfriend.
The first moved with the coiled energy of a storm at bay—tall, all muscle and honeyed skin. Low light caught in the curls that framed one side of her face, the other shaved close in a sleek undercut. She was dressed in a shimmering gold bikini accented in red, with a bangle on her ankle and nothing else. When she smiled, it was slow and knowing.
The woman beside her was her opposite—long and lean. Her face was a study in angles, complementing a slender yet strong build. Every line of her body was as pale as it was sharp, as though she’d been carved from moonlight. Bare feet whispered against the stone with each step, platinum hair braided down her back. She held herself with a silent poise that seemed to quiet the very air around her.
Behind them came the others—a slow ripple of color and contrast. One with deep auburn curls and a smile that radiated warmth, with hips that always seemed to sway a little. Another, small and dark-eyed, with a blonde pixie cut that made her look about five years younger than she probably was. And last, a dancer whose dark waves and liquid movements drew our lustful stares. Her body was built for sex with hips so exaggerated from her thin waist that she almost looked like she stepped out of a comic book.
All together, they looked like they’d been summoned from some hedonistic realm.
“You boys ready for some entertainment?” Honey asked.
Without waiting for a response, the women moved toward us.
Dillon stared in awe. “Yo… what the fuck is this?”
Jonah watched in curious amusement. “She said there was going to be a surprise. I didn’t know it was going to be this.” He looked at me. “Do you recognize any of them?”
I shook my head. “They all look new to me.”
“Rose sends her regards,” Honey said, giving me a smoky, sultry smile, “and wishes she could be here. But we had some friends who wanted to meet you. I hope that’s okay.”
My immediate thought was for Natalie. She was somewhere in the building, hanging out with Emily. My sister and my potential… whatever Natalie was supposed to be… had decided tonight would be a good time to get to know each other a little better.
If she came to the rooftop, what would she think of this situation?
I had to remind myself that if Natalie were going to be my girlfriend, she would have to be okay with this sort of thing.
Honey’s gaze swept from me to Jonah, then to Vikram.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she purred. “You all have permission to play.”
Vikram looked unconvinced. “Venus—”
“Said that if you don’t cut loose and have a little fun, she’ll break up with you. Feel free to text her if you want.”
Vikram pulled out his phone to do just that, but there was already a message waiting for him. He looked up at me, eyes wide. “She… she’s right.”
I looked back at Honey and smiled. “By all means… welcome to the party.”
Honey curled her fingers into the collar of my shirt and tugged me closer to her as three of the women slinked past us. For a second, I thought she was going to kiss me, but she simply stared up at me with her pale green eyes. “Erin told me to make sure you end tonight fighting for your life, so you forget about everything else.”
“That’s going to be a tough promise to keep.”
The soft tilt of her head as she smiled at me suggested that she was up for the challenge.
And then she slunk past me and slid behind Jonah so that he was sandwiched between his girlfriend and the extremely curvy Brazilian woman.
The tall, slender woman with silver-white hair and pale skin encircled her arms around Kwan, moving like liquid in time with a beat that I had just now realized was coming from the speakers installed in strategic places on the rooftop. Someone had initiated music.
The first one I’d noticed with coffee-colored skin and a toned, athletic physique had taken Dillon a little further away from the rest and was currently grinding against him.
The pixie-haired blonde had crawled onto Richie’s lap and was running her hands up his chest as she proceeded to initiate a lap dance.
That left the lush Latina woman, with her generous curves and voluminous hair, to approach me, her amber bedroom eyes radiating heat as her mouth curled up in a flirtatious smile. Reaching me, she hooked her index finger in the collar of my shirt, already stretched by Honey, and pulled me into her.
She was just a few inches shorter than me, with one of the wildest, thickest manes of wavy hair I’d ever seen on a woman. She wore several bangles on her wrists that jangled with every movement, large hoop earrings, a red skirt, and a white shirt that fell off her shoulders. Her midriff was left bare, showing that she had a flat, but feminine belly, which made her double D’s and generous ass look even more prominent.
She spun and pressed her back to me, her lush ass grinding into my crotch. She leaned her head back onto my shoulder, and I had to push my face through her hair to see her properly. Her hands wandered up my sides, down my hips as she swayed to the music.
“I hear that you’re the man of the hour,” she said, the slightest bit of a vague accent… Dominican, maybe?
“It’s been one hell of an hour, then,” I said, comfortable enough by now with meeting new women like this that I didn’t hesitate to place my hand on her hip and then slide it around to press my palm into her lower belly, encouraging her to grind back against me as I matched her rhythm. Our hips rolled as one as she cast her eyes up at me, smiling a wide, genuinely pleased smile that I’d fallen into step with her so quickly.
“How do you know, Honey?” I asked, dipping my head down to lay my lips on her bare shoulder.
“We take an aerial silk class together,” she said.
“Not a dancer?”
She bit her lip and then spun around, her large breasts brushing my chest. Her arms draped around my shoulders. “Nuh-uh… that’s Amara, Saskia, and Camila.”
As she said their names, she pointed to the athletic one with Dillon, the tall, slender blonde with Kwan, and the curvy one ganging up on Jonah with Honey.
She turned her honey brown eyes back to me. “I don’t dance for work. Only for fun, and you look like you could use some fun.”
“I could,” I said, “But first… I think my friend is feeling left out. Would you mind dancing with him?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Vikram and then at me. “Sure, baby, but only if you promise to dance with me later.”
“You couldn’t keep me away.”
The girl, whose name turned out to be Liana, had to coax Vikram out of his chair by literally tugging on his tie like it was a leash, but eventually he followed her out onto the makeshift dance floor, where all the others were getting into it.
Except Richie, who was full-on making out with the cutie pixie blonde while she straddled his lap.
Maybe he would be fine without Megan.
I settled back in my seat next to Chandler and took a long pull on my beer.
“That was very good of you,” Chandler said.
I shook my head. “Vikram doesn’t strike me as the type to go for a lot of opportunities like this.”
“That boy is smitten, and he’s afraid to mess up a good thing.”
“He should be. She’s a knockout.”
Chandler nodded in agreement, and the two of us watched as the girls and guys gyrated, ground, and danced with each other to the low thrum of dance music.
Eventually, Chandler leaned toward me and said, “Really though… how are you, my boy?”
“About as well as can be expected,” I said with a shrug.
“Still no word from Tanaka since the crash, I take it?”
I shook my head. “No. I sent him a pretty strong message, but nothing.”
Chandler looked grim.
“What?”
“Several of VistaVision's advertisement deals have fallen through, and three major sponsors have left. Two project heads are also threatening to leave. Our luxury entertainment sector is likely to see the largest drop in revenue in two decades.” He took his eyes off the ladies to look at me. “All that to say, shareholders and board members are out for blood, and suddenly, being the CEO isn’t as enjoyable as it once was.”
Once again, guilt clawed at me. “I’m sorry, Chandler. I didn’t know it would get this bad.”
“I did warn you that the man holds a grudge,” the old man said, “but this is hardly time for ‘I told you so.’ Anyway… it’s not really your fault, now is it? You didn’t know that Carla would betray him. Taking her under your protection so soon after the betrayal might have been a little premature, and sleeping with her most assuredly was short-sighted. At the end of the day, though, the man simply can’t take that he was outplayed by his wife and a young man with no experience in this sort of thing.”
“He really does have a lot of pride, doesn’t he?”
“I would consider it his greatest flaw,” Chandler said, then changed his mind. “Well… second greatest. His first, being his taste in women.”
Watching Jonah getting pawed by Honey while Jonah and Camila openly made out, I chuckled. “Come on… she’s not that bad once you get used to her.”
More like… once you used a firm hand on her. Helen’s little display had been more than enough to sober her up and get her to cooperate with us. While she was still an entitled, opportunistic brat, she didn’t hesitate to give me whatever information she could.
“Speak for yourself, boy,” Chandler spat.
“Do you want to step down?” I asked, still watching the others. Poor Vikram didn’t know what to do with his hands as he danced along with his partner. Meanwhile, she kept a firm grip on his tie and used it to control his motions as they moved across the floor partially. She was confident, with thick brown, wavy hair flying around in her wake. Vikram looked half-scared out of his mind.
Meanwhile, Richie was making awkward progress with his companion. She was all tight body and lithe grace, moving across his lap with slow, deliberate movements that belied the strength of her core—a study in feminine strength and grace.
“If I knew where this would go, I would not have taken this job,” Chandler admitted, watching along with me. “However, I’m committed. I don’t think I would be all that offended if you asked me to step down, but as long as I’m there, I’ll do the damn job.”
I glanced at Chandler, more convinced than ever that he was a real one. “I won’t let this go on forever, man.”
He finally looked back at me. “That would be much appreciated, sir.”
Camila broke away from Jonah, said something to the couple, and then turned to approach where Chandler and I were sitting. I thought she was about to come for me, but instead, she approached the older man. She stopped so that her legs brushed his knees as she leaned forward, placing a hand on the armrests as she leaned forward, her breasts threatening to spill out of her top.
Her chocolate brown eyes flashed. “I think you need to join us on the floor, amor.”
Chandler didn’t quite look uncomfortable, but there was definitely some unease in his shoulders. “Thank you, young lady, but no. I’m afraid I’m too old to be dancing like that.”
She tsked at him. “You’re only too old when you say you’re too old. You look in decent shape. You’ve got to use that body if you want to keep it.”
The way she said that last line left it unclear exactly how she meant Chandler to use it.
“Chandler?” I said.
He glanced at me.
“Go cut loose a little,” I said. “That’s what this is for.”
I wouldn’t have insisted if I thought he preferred men or was uncomfortable with the idea of being with a woman like this. Still, Erin assured me that Chandler was most assuredly not gay. Psalter, who had done due diligence on most of my employees, informed me that while he didn’t maintain a relationship, he saw the same woman once a month, staying at her house. According to him, it was an escort.
“There,” Camila purred. “You see? Even he agrees with me.” Like the one who had taken off with Vikram, she utilized his tie to coax him out of his chair as well. Chandler went reluctantly, glancing at me as he joined the others.
Within fifteen minutes, Venus joined us on the rooftop, taking over from the girl Vikram had been dancing with. Jonah and Honey were dancing with their arms around each other as if no one else existed. Kwan and Saskia were sitting at the far end of the table, drinking beers and talking. My friend had her thick braid cradled between his fingers, thumb sliding up and down its ridges as their heads were close together. Derek and his partner were nowhere to be found, and Richie was in deep conversation with the cute girl with the pixie cut.
Now that she was freed up, Vikram’s original dance partner returned to me and plopped down in my lap.
“Lost your partner?” I asked.
“If you want to look at it like that,” she purred. “Oooorrr, you could say I found the right one.” She traced a finger across one of my collarbones until it disappeared under my shirt.
“Not sure I really feel up for dancing,” I said.
Her amber eyes sparkled. “Honey said there were all kinds of things to do. I hear you have a beautiful hot tub.”
“Did you bring a swimsuit?”
“From what Honey described, swimsuits were optional,” she said, taking my hand in hers and guiding it to her midriff. Her belly was soft, with firm muscle just underneath. She coaxed it up, my fingers slipping beneath her shirt and trailing up her smooth skin.
She placed her fingers under my chin and tilted my face up just a bit more as she leaned forward. Her lips found mine, and she initiated a warm, soft kiss.
The soft underside of a bare breast met my fingertips as I explored higher, and she moaned into my mouth. I started to explore further when she broke the kiss, and then stood up, grabbing my hand as it slid from under her shirt and dragging me to my feet.
“Come on,” she coaxed as she led me toward the gardens.
I glanced at Richie as she led me past the two of them, and my little brother gave me an awkward thumbs up, which caused the pixie-haired woman to look over at us, her eyes watching closely as we approached the garden.
Then I turned back to my Latina beauty, and realized something…
“Hey… I don’t even know your name.”
Her fingers tightened around mine as she glanced at me with a wicked smile on her lips. “Make me scream yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”
***
Friday, September 27th, 2:03 pm
“Marcus?”
My eyes fluttered open, and it took me a moment to remember where I was.
After a night of heavy drinking, even Erin’s special drugs didn’t seem to stave off the effects of alcohol as much as I would like. The resulting hangover had pressured me to hand over any immediate responsibilities to Erin and take it easy.
I’d ended up having a light breakfast and a discussion with Charity about the nature of public relations, which had ended with both of us getting naked and fucking in my garden before napping in a hammock.
And that’s where my assistant found me—the garden.
The early afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, dappled against my skin. I blinked, brushing strands of black hair from my face, then peered over the head they belonged to.
Erin stood beside me, barefoot on the stone path. One hand twined gently through my hair. The other held her phone.
As I peered up into her face, I saw the strain on it—a tightening around the corners of her eyes and jaw. She held her phone in her hand.
“Hiro Tanaka’s on the phone. He wants to speak to you.”
I eased myself out from beneath Charity. She stirred against my chest as I slid my arm free and sat up. Fortunately, she didn’t wake. Charity was a real cutie when she slept and disturbing her felt like a crime.
I stood, leaving the hammock relatively undisturbed, and took the phone from her hand. As I walked away, I could feel her attentive gaze on my back.
Stepping out of the garden, I let the sunlight wash over me. For a moment, it felt good against my skin, but the warmth didn’t last. Without the trees for cover, the breeze reminded me that it was late September.
I snapped my fingers, pointing back toward the hammock, mouthing shirt to Erin. She moved quickly.
“Hello?” I said, putting the receiver to my ear.
“Mr. Upton.”
There was no mistaking that thin, brittle voice, reminding me of the worn elastic from an old balloon.
“Mr. Tanaka.”
“I received your message. You wanted to talk to me. Well, here I am.”
“Took you long enough.” I felt fabric brush my back and raised an arm so Erin could slip the shirt over my shoulders. “You’re a bad dad.”
“Hm… and how is business?”
I gritted my teeth. Not only was he ignoring my use of his son to get his attention, but he knew damn well how business was! Over the last week, he’d cost me billions—tens of billions. I’d lost most of my influence in Asia and much of my credibility in Europe. None of my people could leave my building without armed escorts.
Psalter and Hannon had intervened in three separate incidents, preventing my employees from getting hurt, or worse… killed. Natalie had been one of the targets. Neither of the perpetrators could be traced back to Tanaka, but I knew better. He was biding his time and spending millions to make me suffer.
Marduke, my professional home for the last year, had gone bankrupt overnight, dragging two associated companies down with it. Gerald, my old office neighbor, had lost the job he’d held for twenty years. He had called Natalie in tears, terrified about his future, with only six years left until retirement.
Of course, I wasn’t going to leave Gerald to that fate. He was a good man who had always offered to fill my coffee cup whenever he was going to make a trip for his own.
But for every Gerald or Natalie, there were hundreds more affected by this war. The only difference was that they didn’t have the good fortune of knowing me.
I wanted to curse Hiro out and tell him to go to hell again, but that’s what he wanted—a reaction.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“Oh, you know. Business is hard, but we’re managing. Some asshole wrecked half the world’s economy, but we’re working with Interpol to get to the bottom of it. Maybe we’ll find a few new sectors to move into once we rebuild some goodwill.”
Chandler had coached me for this call. I wasn’t sure if what I was saying even made sense, but it sounded convincing enough to me.
“I had a visit from a detective with the NYPD,” I added. “Didn’t appreciate some of the implications he was making.”
“Then you should not have committed murder.”
I froze midstep, only just realizing that I’d been pacing.
“Excuse me?”
Why would he accuse me of killing Rajesh when he knew damn good and well that I was innocent?
I turned toward Erin, searching her face for some clue, but she only stared back. Then it hit me.
Someone was probably listening.
Perhaps detective Reynolds?
But why try to bait me into confessing to something he knew I wouldn’t admit to?
“I haven’t murdered anyone,” I said flatly.
“I don’t believe you.”
My jaw clenched. The urge to fire back was instant… to tell him that if I were capable of murder, his son would’ve been dead a long time ago.
And then another flash of inspiration hit. This wasn’t about Rajesh.
Hiro wanted me to incriminate myself by saying something that would link me to the kidnapping of his son. That alone would probably be enough to warrant an arrest; the suspicion surrounding the Desai investigation would likely prevent me from making bail.
He was good, and I’d almost fallen for it.
“I don’t care,” I snapped. “Anyway, that’s not why I called. I want a truce. What’s it going to take to get you to the table?”
“Truce!?” he spat. “There is no truce here. After what you’ve done, I would rather die than sit at a table with you. I would rather see both our countries burn than be in the same room, breathing the same air as you!”
He slipped into rapid-fire Japanese, and I pulled the phone from my ear, exchanging a look with Erin.
“He’s really pissed off,” I said.
“I can hear it from here,” she replied, impressed.
A sharp clatter echoed through the receiver—something striking a hard surface and bouncing across a floor. I recognized it from the times I’d thrown my own phone around.
“I think he just threw his phone.”
Japanese murmurs continued in the background. I stared out over the skyline, letting the city spread beneath me while I savored the taste of his fury.
Then came the shuffle of someone picking up the phone.
“Mr. Upton?”
Sachiko.
Relief washed through me—maybe his daughter would be more reasonable.
“Your father’s being a pain in the ass,” I said.
“What did you expect?”
“I expected him to have a reasonable conversation like grown-ups so that we can end this stupid war.”
“I am here. What do you have in mind?”
“Not over the phone,” I said quickly.
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.” My patience was thinning, thanks to their games. I certainly didn’t want to run the risk of saying something that could get me thrown in jail because the wrong person was listening. If we were to meet in person, I could at least control what outside observers heard a little better.
“And I’m done with this bullshit. You’ve got until the end of the day to agree to meet with me.”
“Or what?”
Or your brother will see this killer view of New York just before I fling him off my roof.
I wanted to say it, but not when the good detective could be listening.
“Do I really need to say it?”
Silence stretched so long that I thought she’d hung up. I was about to check when her voice returned.
“I’ll convince him to talk to you.”
“How do I know you’ll be successful? That he’ll show?”
“Because you cut my brother’s finger off, you monster!” she snapped. “He will be there!”
Looking over Erin, I could tell that she heard Sachiko’s accusation from all the way where she stood. She looked disturbed by it, and I only hoped she could tell how much I hated myself for giving into my darker instincts in that moment.
I could still feel Ryo Tanaka's phantom blood, sticky and warm between my fingers. His screams still filled my dreams when I tried to sleep. The sounds had been unnatural… Barely human as Chloe had sawed through his knuckle joint.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said flatly.
Her breathing steadied into a long, loaded pause.
“Where do you want to meet us?” she finally asked.
I hadn’t thought that far ahead, so I simply said, “I’ll text you the location.”
And then I hung up.
I looked at Erin. “Did you get all that?”
“I got the gist,” she said. “Do you think she’ll persuade him to make a deal?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Even if he does, he’s just going to want the same things as before. Besides Ryo and Carla, he’s going to want his pound of flesh. If I’m going to make any good deal with Hiro, I have to come at him with strength… not try to buy him off.”
“You’re threatening his kid and hurting his empire,” Erin said. “What else is there?”
The New York skyline offered little inspiration on how to crack the mystery that was Hiro Tanaka. I turned away from it. “I don’t know. What does Hiro value the most? Money?”
“To hear him talk,” Erin said, “honor. He’s sort of a walking cliche.”
I studied Erin as I mulled over that last word. “Honor…”
There was something to that.
Obviously, Hiro Tanaka valued wealth and power, but he wasn’t coming after me just because he wanted more. His motivation for destroying me was personal. It was about reputation…
Movement caught my attention; Erin and I both looked to see Chloe tear through the garden.
“NYPD is coming—”
“Oh God! I need to hit the study and my office real quick!” Erin was on her feet and already running toward the garden, not even waiting to hear the rest of what Chloe had to say. “Try to buy at least a little time!”
My bodyguard glanced at her as she flew by and then back at me. “You have ten minutes. Tops.”
I immediately fell into a brisk pace toward the house, Chloe turning to walk beside me. “What? Why?”
“Don’t know, “Chloe huffed. “Psalter told me. They have a warrant, but it’s sealed.”
“Fuck… this was Hiro. I pissed him off, and now he’s got the NYPD coming to arrest me for Rajesh’s murder.”
Or because of Ryo…
Had I let something slip on the phone? Something they could use against me?
Reaching the entrance to the garden, I nearly ran into Charity, who stood there, naked and beautiful. “Is everything okay?”
“Get dressed,” I snapped, not unkindly. “The police are on their way.
She squeaked and disappeared.
Continuing toward the house, I pulled my phone from my pocket, considering my next move. If I had ten minutes at most, then I needed to do something worthwhile. I needed to hedge against this move.
I needed someone else in my corner.
“Where’s everyone?” I asked as I scrolled through my phone.
“Natalie’s at work. Emily’s out—rehearsal, I think. Natashya is somewhere here. Bobbi and Helen are in the gym with Tara, and the rest of your staff is here, including Shea.”
“And there’s no way we can put this off?”
“Nope,” Chloe said without offering any context.
Searching through my history, I called one of the very few people who wasn’t afraid of Hiro Tanaka.
Amber Bell picked up on the second ring. “Mr. Upton?”
“A week ago, you said you could help me with Hiro. Are you still able to do that?”
“Ah,” she said, “By ‘help,’ what do you mean, precisely?”
I didn’t have time for her word games. “I don’t know! You’re the one who said it!”
“If you’re referring to our last meeting, I believe my exact words were that I was willing to offer you information in exchange for concessions.”
That sounded about right.
She went on, “If you’re desperate enough to call me, I suspect that you’re asking for more than simple information.”
“Can you get him off my back or not?”
Silence.
“Amber!”
“Perhaps, Mr. Upton,” she finally responded. “However… that will cost you.”
“Yeah… you said you wanted Carla, Ryo, Desai’s shares of VistaVision, and Maddox installed as CEO.”
I wasn’t interested in losing Ryo when he was the only real leverage that I felt like I had… the rest was negotiable.
“That was for information, Mr. Upton. What you’re asking for will cost you far more.”
My stomach sank as Chloe opened the door and ushered me into my apartment. “What do you want?”
“A concerted effort to negotiate a peace between you and Hiro can be arranged for Rajesh Desai’s shares and ten percent of your own shares.”
Recalling that Brantwood—the group Amber represented—held a whopping fifteen percent of my flagship company, I quickly did the math. With Rajesh’s shares, the difference between mine and theirs would be less than five percent in my favor.
“I can’t do that,” I said.
“You would be allowed to keep Hiro’s son and wife as insurance,” Amber went on. “I would consider losing twelve percent of your company well worth getting a monster like Hiro Tanaka off your back.”
I checked the clock on my phone—five minutes had passed.
Fuck!
I couldn’t do it, could I? VistaVision was one of the most powerful, influential, and socially significant companies in the freaking world. There was no way I could give that away to the people Amber was representing. She’d kidnapped me… tortured me.
She’d let those men loose on Natashya.
What if Roger were able to worm his way into the company somehow? He’d worked with Amber during my kidnapping, after all.
I almost flung my phone across the hall in frustration.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let her have that much of VistaVision.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“Very well. I urge you to think quickly. The price will only go up—”
“I said I’ll think about it,” I snarled and then hung up on her.
I immediately looked for my second source.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Chloe said, uncharacteristically. She rarely expressed verbal frustration.
“You got any better ideas?” I glared at her as we closed in on the stairs down and into the living room.
“Not in my job de***********ion.”
She was, of course, talking about the fact that I’d just dialed Astrid’s number. There were probably other people out there who could go toe-to-toe with Tanaka, but I didn’t know them. The Håkanssons were the only ones I knew who garnered the kind of respect from the Tanakas that suggested they were on an even playing field.
Astrid was crazy. Astrid nearly got me killed.
But Astrid wouldn’t ask me for a quarter of my shares of VistaVision.
She would ask for my kidney so she could cuddle it at night.
Unfortunately, she didn’t answer. After the fourth ring, it went to voicemail: This is Astrid Håkansson. I am not available right now. Please do not leave a voicemail. I won’t listen to it. Leave me a text, and I’ll respond as soon as I am available. Thank you.
“Are you fucking joking!? You called and texted me every day for two weeks, and the one time I call you back, you don’t answer!?”
Tempted to call her every evil name I could think of, I opted instead to hang up. Insulting someone I potentially needed a favor from was hardly a good idea.
“Not being able to reach her… that’s a blessing in disguise,” Chloe muttered as we reached the primary living room/foyer.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” I grumbled as I stalked to the middle of the living room, eyeing the elevator doors like a cornered animal feeling trapped. I didn’t have any good options.
Except… the helicopter was on the roof.
If needed, I could always run.
One of Chloe’s men approached us. “Ma’am… sir. They’re in the lobby.”
“How many of them?” Chloe asked.
“Two in uniform,” the security guard said, “Five in plain clothes.”
“Detectives?” I asked.
“Probably.”
Charity came bounding down the stairs behind us, dressed in her little black bikini with her gauzy jacket draped over her, leaving most of her body available for the world to see.
A heartbeat later, Helen and Tara appeared at the mouth of the hallway for the wing containing the gym. Helen had a light sheen of sweat, wearing a simple, baggy T-shirt that drooped lazily off one shoulder, revealing the strap of a salmon-colored sports bra underneath. Her long hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of leggings that molded perfectly over her sculpted ass and thighs. It was a version of her that few were allowed to see.
Seeing Chloe and me staring at the elevator doors, she glanced at them. “What’s going on?”
“The cops are coming,” I said.
Helen looked alarmed. “Reynolds?”
“Bet you a million bucks,” I said.
My heart was pounding.
I hadn’t murdered anyone.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t guilty.
My sin was two floors under me, still nursing a cauterized nub where his pinkie finger used to be.
They could very easily be there for that.
Fuck… I was going to jail.
Movement caught my eye, and I glanced to see Emiko, Jessica, and Camille standing near the entrance opposite Helen and Tara. Emiko simply stood there with an unreadable expression, but she didn’t make a move. Camille was drying her hands, watching everything with mild curiosity. Jessica simply looked confused.
And then the numbers above the elevator began to display.
I glanced toward the guard, and he looked up from his tablet and nodded—they were on their way.
“I’m not sure what’s about to happen,” I said to the room at large, “but there’s no need for any of you to worry. Just hang back and let me deal with it.”
A few moments later, the elevator doors opened, and Detective Reynolds stepped into the foyer along with his other detectives and the two uniformed cops. His badge was already out, and he held it up for everyone to see.
“Mr. Upton,” he said. “We’re here for Barbara Nanford. We’ve reason to believe she may be held against her will.”