The Love Of Money - S02 E164

Story 2 months ago

The Love Of Money - S02 E164

Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 164

***

Monday, September 16th, 5:49 pm

Chloe was waiting for Carla to get home. Helen was either working… or working Bobbi over in the dungeon. 

Emily was with her acting troupe. Natashya was with her. Charity was at Julia’s office doing PR things. Emiko was packing for her trip to the Catskills the next day.

Apparently, Rose had left this morning while I was still at the hotel with Natalie and was now at work.

I wasn’t sure where the others were, but while Erin had been called away to a conference call with Charity and Julia, I found myself eating dinner alone.

That wasn’t a bad thing, exactly. It gave me time to stew over the possible implications of the pictures I found on Ryo’s phone, wondering what connection Carla might have with Amber Bell beyond VistaVision. The time stamps for those images spanned more than a year. The last one was less than a month before my grandfather’s death.

I sliced off a piece of pheasant and snatched it off the fork with my teeth, the juices setting my mouth ablaze with a burst of savory spices. It sent dopamine coursing through my brain, staving off tendrils of icy anger.

It was difficult to be too pissed off when food tasted this good. Whatever I was paying Camille… it wasn’t enough.

My chef surprised me this evening. I’d eaten by myself for the past half-hour, and every time I saw her, she’d done nothing more than give me a warm smile. There had been no overt flirtation… no brush of fingers against mine when she handed me my food. Had Emiko talked to her? Had I done something?

The hallway door on the other side of the room quietly opened, and my assistant slipped into the room. “Hey, boss. Heard from Chloe yet?”

I shook my head and took another bite of pheasant while Erin crossed the room and took the seat next to mine at the corner. She placed her elbows on the table next to an empty plate and folded her hands under her chin as she watched me eat.

“You okay?”

Preferring not to speak with my mouth full, I just nodded.

“Chloe told me that you guys messed Ryo up pretty badly,” Erin said softly.

I swallowed my food and said, “Could’ve been worse.”

The kitchen door opened, and Camille poked her head out. “Ah! Madam Malik. Would you like some dinner?”

“Yes, please,” Erin said, and Camille disappeared.

Erin looked back at me. “What happened, Marcus?”

“What do you mean?”

“That shooter didn’t get anywhere close to us,” Erin said. “You’ve been in worse situations. It just feels like…”

It looked like she was having a hard time saying it, so I finished her thought for her. “An overreaction?”

She apologized with her eyes.

I sighed. “I thought I was going to die four days ago, Erin. Ryo had a gun to my head. I’m probably still raw from that.”

I took a bite of candied Brussels sprouts and met her troubled gaze. “No… it’s more than that. If that guy had been close enough to get a shot off and hit you or Helen…”

The back of my throat began to sting, and I could taste something bitter. I didn’t want to cry in front of Erin, but fuck… the idea of something happening…

Again, the image of Charity bleeding out on the concrete came to mind. I remembered how I felt… how horrified I’d been, and I barely knew her. It was the same with Ray—the bodyguard who died on that rooftop. How much worse would that feel if it had actually been someone I was close to? 

“Ray died, and I still feel guilty for that. I didn’t even know him that well.”

Erin reached out and placed her hand on top of mine, squeezing it.

“If something like that happened to you… I don’t think I could recover from that.”

Erin looked at me with those soulful dark eyes. “Oh, Marcus…”

“I need to end this thing with Hiro before something like that happens,” I said hurriedly before taking another bite, trying to do anything to keep Erin from seeing how close I was to tearing up.

“We will,” she said.

“I would have seriously considered giving Carla to Hiro if it meant protecting you before, but after this,” I jabbed my fork at Ryo’s phone, “I’d do it in a fucking heartbeat.”

“Don’t be too hasty,” Erin cautioned.

“I don’t care if he strings her up at this point,” I retorted.

“Neither do I,” Erin admitted, “But like Helen’s already said, Carla probably won’t be enough. Ryo and Carla probably won’t be enough.”

“He can have VistaVision if that’s what it takes to get him off our ass!”

Erin looked at me doubtfully. “He would own you if you did that, Marcus. You’ve got to draw blood with men like that.”

“So… what? You think I should get someone to kill him?”

Erin simply looked at me. It wasn’t a yes.

But it wasn’t a no, either.

I put down the fork, sat back in my seat, and sighed as my eyes rolled toward the ceiling. I wasn’t sure if I could do something like that. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in killing. Self-defense made sense, but telling someone to commit first-degree murder didn’t feel much like self-defense.

If it kept my people safe, though… it would be worth it, right?

I couldn’t help but smile as a thought crossed my mind. “You know what would piss me off? If that assassin guy had killed either one of us before we had our date.”

Erin broke into a wide grin. “There he is.”

That smile was like sunlight warming me to my core.

“So… a successful night with Natalie, huh?” She asked, propping her chin on her hand.

“We didn’t leave the room for over a day,” I admitted.

“I want the deets!” Erin said.

So, I filled her in—the date, the solo performance after… how she couldn’t keep her hands off me in the car. I told her about our first time having sex. Then the repeat performance. While I didn’t give her a blow-by-blow account, I provided her with a fairly detailed breakdown of how many times we fucked and what positions we did it in. I even told her about showing Natalie the picture Erin had sent of her, Helen, and Bobbi.

She stopped me when I mentioned sharing Astrid’s picture.

“Wait… Astrid sent you a pic!?”

“Oh shit… yeah. It was Saturday, but I didn’t see it till Sunday. Sorry… I didn’t think about sending it to you.”

“Gimme!” Erin said, holding out her hand like a toddler.

I opened the phone, pulled up the image, and gave it a glance.

Astrid lay stretched across blue silk sheets, arranged with the kind of precision that walked the line between seduction and artistry. Pale skin, almost luminous, stood in stark contrast to the dark fabric. One leg bent, the other extended… her pose effortless, but deliberate. Her breasts, small and uncovered save for a well-placed fold of silk, matched the rest of her frame—slight, graceful, and elegant. Hair like spun silver framed a face that was all angles and intent, eyes half-lidded and knowing.

The shot was tasteful, but only barely. That restraint made the image even more enticing.

“Fuck,” Erin breathed when I passed the phone to her. “Sending that to myself.”

“Yeah… I get it,” I said. “Just don’t forget… she’s fucking crazy.”

“Oh, I know, but I also understand the appeal. At least, looking at it won’t hurt. I certainly wouldn’t mind giving you a blowie while you stare at it.”

I snorted and took back my phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So,” Erin said, suddenly looking a little bashful—it was hard to tell whether it was real or put-on. “I guess I owe you a date.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess so. Anything in particular you wanna do?”

I felt a foot next to my leg, on the corner of my chair. Erin gave it a little nudge and then pushed, slowly moving one side of my chair so that I sat at an angle next to the table. She slid out of her seat, giving me her most Erin-like grin, and then bit her lip as she slunk toward me.