Made For Frank
Alpha Billionaire Secret Club (Book Three)
By
Copyright © 2020 by Scarlett Hope
All rights reserved. In no way is it legal to produce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless written permission from the publisher. For permission requests, email the author at: [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Scarlett Hope
Cover Design by Scarlett Hope
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Did You Enjoy The Read
Join My Newsletter
About the Author
Chapter One
Frank
Staring at the front door, the same one which Tom Ivy, my friend of over twenty-five years, just slammed after dropping the ultimate bomb by telling me that he, of all people, had fallen in love, I stood in stark disbelief.
He… was in love? With a woman?
Suddenly, I collapsed on the sofa, rolling my head until the back of my head hit the soft cushion. A strange, slow laughter bubbled from my belly, moving up my chest until it came out of my mouth. Within seconds, peals of laughter began to escape my mouth as I stood up dazedly and turned around in a wide circle.
How could he be in love after… everything?
The laughter hooked me like a vicious, hungry snake, unwilling to let go as, before my eyes, I saw the memories of the years we spent together. We’d practically grown up together since our parents’ houses were not far from each other. We attended the same high school, different colleges but later on, business brought us together and the flame of our friendship was rekindled. It burned even brighter and soon, we went from business partners to drinking buddies.
But that had not been the last milestone of our friendship.
No.
Tom had been the one to approach me all those years ago, he had been the one to suggest that we form an exclusive billionaire club solely centered on eternal bachelorhood. He’d sounded so convincing, his words reassuring because I’d just gotten out of a bad breakup. Perhaps it was the scotch I had that day or the fact that I was just so tired of the thing called ‘love’, but staying single forever sounded like a damn good idea.
That marked the beginning of a commitment that, prior to the last thirty minutes, I believed would be everlasting on both our parts.
“Well played, man. Well played.” I stated.
The laughter finally ceasing as my face tightened into a tortured frown and I bounded towards the table to pick up my bottle of scotch. As the hot liquid sloshed down my throat, I smiled bitterly, teeth-gritting as his words flashed through my mind once more.
“I love her and I’m going to marry her.”
He’d said it with so much calm, such ease, with his face radiating with something I couldn’t and didn’t even understand. It made me want to turn back time and go a few minutes back just so I could punch him as soon as those words left his mouth.
What an asshole.
Did he think I spent all these years keeping myself from women… never letting any relationship move past sex and even keeping away from sex when I could help it… only to have him, the president of the club, come to me and say that ‘he is no longer interested in the pact?’
With a snarl, I turned around and swung my arm, smashing the glass of scotch on the white wall. Watching as the liquid fizzed down the wall and the pieces of splintered glass scattered everywhere, I clenched my hands, feeling an overwhelming urge to punch something.
That bastard.
So what? He meant to say that all those years were now wasted? That by falling prey to the one thing he’d consistently warned me to steer clear of, he was calling me the big fool for choosing to believe in him and his philosophy?
And oh, hadn’t Richard, another member of the club, fallen in love also? But while that annoyed me, it wasn’t anything because we all knew that Richard was a newbie and maybe he never even got the whole point of being in the Merry Men Club in the first place.
But Tom… Tom… the founder, owner, and chief advocate… how on earth could he do this?
With a growl, I grabbed the table, not for once caring that it was glass, and swung it across the room. The resulting crash didn’t even come close to abating the hot flames of anger, and betrayal, threatening to choke me.
Then it became clear to me.
I needed to leave this house.
Chest heaving, I bounded towards my study, picked up my jacket, wallet, keys, and phone. Without wasting even just a second, I turned around, marched downstairs, and stepped out of the house.
As I started walking down the road, the thought came to me I was probably overreacting. Tom had sounded really sincere… more honest than even I had seen him before. And we’d been friends for years. But I just didn’t care. Heck, if only for the impersonal way with which he’d told me that he valued that annoying woman over our friendship, I was entitled to this reaction.
He was just so damn lucky that he wasn’t nearby, else, I didn’t know what I would have done to him.
Whipping out my phone, I dialed Jack’s number. Being one of the members of the billionaire club, surely he’d understand the gravity of this situation. As the number went through, I wondered, what he’d do when he realized that Tom, of all people, had ‘fallen in love’.
Immediately, he picked the call and the first thing I heard was loud, overpowering music, followed by loud girlish laughter.
Typical.
“Hey man!” He practically screamed into the phone and I had to separate the thing from my ear to stop myself from going deaf.
“There’s an emergency. We need to meet. Now.” I growled into the phone, figuring that it was best to tell them face to face. We all needed to have a deep, serious discussion on how to get through this scandal that Tom was recklessly bringing to the club.
“What?” There was more laughter from the other side, with a girl playfully shouting, “Oh stop iiiiit.”
“I said,” I gritted through my teeth, my hands tightening on the steering wheel, “We need to have a—”
“I’m… I’m sorry, man. I can barely… Kiki don’t do that! James, James… dammit, James! Bring her down from there!...” There was a pause from the other side followed by the sound of a door opening and slamming it shut, “Okay, I can talk now. Sorry for that earlier, it’s been a really busy weekend right here.”
“I can imagine.” I said, already feeling a headache come on.
Why does it sometimes seem like I’m the only one who gives a damn about the club?
“We need to meet up ASAP.” I said, “I’ll text you the address and all you need to do is—”
“Uh… now?” He cut me off and I frowned.
“Yes. Now. Didn’t you hear the ASAP?”
“Aw… sorry, man. I-I really, really can’t come now. See, I’ve got all these people over and the party’s just starting and you know I can’t just up and leave these girls here. I got to do my duty, you know. As a gentleman… But I’m free tomorrow if you want. Call me then, okay?”
And then the noise from the other side ended, leaving me in
stupefied disbelief.
Did he just cut the call?
My hands started to twitch, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to not give in to the rage knocking at my door. Let me call Kevin first. He’s a reasonable one, and a long-lasting member of the club, even longer than Jack. He’ll see what a mess we’ve found ourselves in. He’ll understand.
But Kevin's number didn’t even go through.
Rather than his deep, impersonal voice, I was greeted instead by that blasted mechanical tone saying the number is unreachable.
Clenching my fist around the steering wheel, I barely resisted the urge to tear it off and smash it on the car window, screaming at the top of my lungs like a lunatic on the loose.
Everything here made me want to lose my mind.
I needed to get out of this house, this town, even this state. Fast. Before I do something I’ll regret forever.
Chapter Two
Crystal
Being a thief had its perks.
You got to sit down – or stand if that’s your kind of thing – and creepily watch people from a distance, your eyes going over their clothes, hands, legs and even faces, if you’re really, really experienced. You do all these while pretending to do something else, like drink a milkshake for instance, as you steadily draw closer to your targets. Of course, the veterans in the game don’t need to go through such a long, boring process. They just walk over to the target, even greet them, look them in the eye, shake their hands, and walk away like nothing happened. Only later the poor targets would discover that something on them was missing – a bracelet, purse, wristwatch, even earrings – and have absolutely no idea where they ‘lost’ it!
Sighing, I shifted on the bench, my eyes fixed at the airport entrance as I adjusted the cap on my head and the cloth around my face.
I wasn’t a thief, per se.
In fact, I wouldn’t call myself one.
I was just in a ‘special situation’ and if I didn’t find something – anything – to take back home today, then… I didn’t even want to think about what would happen.
At this point, I’ll even take a half-finished burger if that was merciful enough to show up. Freddie needed food. Mercy hadn’t even had a cup of good water for the past few days and I was worried to the bone that she was going to end up like Freddie soon – bedridden by a sickness that seemed to eat him out with every passing day.
I needed to find something for them. And at this point, it seemed like stealing was the only way to go.
But I’ve never done this before, never sunk this low. Even when our parents died last year, leaving us with nothing, I’d slogged through the months, foraging around the city, seeking odd jobs, even almost starting a career as a cheap prostitute at one time. I’d done anything and everything I could to at least keep us alive and breathing.
But then Freddie fell sick last month and what I’d called our steady existence started to crumble. More of what I could find needed to go to him. Right now, the scraps I managed to gather from the dumps of nearby fast-food restaurants wouldn’t cut it. In fact, there’s a big part of me that feared that maybe, just maybe, those almost-rotten foods were the reason Freddie fell sick in the first place.
Sniffing, I got up and walked towards the airport, pushing those somber thoughts to the back of my mind. That little voice of doubt rose again, telling me all the reasons I shouldn’t do this.
This was super risky – I could get jailed for this. And what would happen to my siblings then? How would I care for them? Who could they go to?
We had no family, no friends. Papa and Mama never told us about any of their relatives and after months of futile searching, I’d accepted the truth that we were really on our own.
But then again, what if I didn’t get caught?
I could buy a decent meal for them, maybe even get some medicines for Freddie. I didn’t care if I had nothing to eat. As long as the money was enough for them, that was okay for me.
Taking a big gulp of air through the black cloth I’d tied over my face as a form of disguise, I walked towards the airport, my eyes already searching for potential targets.
After thinking about it for a long time, I figured that the airport was the best place to do this… because of the tourists. They were less likely to be cautious or to pursue a pickpocket and more likely to cower in fear if they ever met one, so I had a lesser chance of being chased around. Besides, there were so many people here with so much luggage. If I played my cards right, I just might get away with this.
Swallowing, I continued my search. Most of the people were in casual clothes, chattering away… they all seemed to be in a hurry. Some were obviously together, maybe couples, one man had his arms around a dog… a couple of others were standing, waiting for a taxi.
I sighed, stopping abruptly.
No one looked rich.
Well… I thought as my eyes zeroed in on a man in an expensive-looking suit with a wristwatch that glittered gold under the bright lights.
Not giving myself any time to think, I began to walk towards him. He was on the sidewalk, in front of a taxi, near another group of people and he was talking to a man. Judging from the other man’s clothes and the cap he had on his head, I surmised that he could be the driver of that taxi. But why was a taxi driver arguing with a rich man in a suit?
Soon, I got close enough to hear the conversation. It was something about giving wrong directions and not getting paid. But I didn’t stop to listen to them.
Tugging the cap to make sure the upper part of my face was well covered, I hunched my shoulders and stopped to observe the rich man. Sparing a second’s look at the face, I tried to decide whether or not he was a tourist. For some reason, his wallet was in his left hand which hung limply from his side.
If I suddenly snatched that wallet from his hands and ran away, what were the possibilities that he’d run after me?
I honestly didn’t know.
But he was rich, wasn’t he? Surely, a simple wallet holding maybe a couple of hundred dollars shouldn’t mean that much to him…
With an inward nod, I gave the go signal and shuffled towards him. He was still deeply engaged in what seemed to be an angry argument with the taxi man and, in a swift move, I shot out a hand, closed it around the cool leather wallet, and my limbs immediately kicked into motion.
“Wh-what… Hey!” I heard his garbled shout, but I didn’t dare stop. I only had to keep moving, for Freddie and Mercy’s sake. So I kept pumping my arms as my legs ate the distance, taking me away from him.
His shouts continued. The way was littered with people still waiting for taxis and I dodged them all until I found myself moving away from the airport… and from him.
As the adrenaline rushed through my veins, my hoodie, under which I trapped my hair, threatened to whip off my head and I reached a hand to hold it firm. Navigating my way through the buildings, I continued running until, minutes later, I dodged into the alleyway that would finally lead me home.
Then I slowed down, chest heaving as my breath came out in short, uneven gasps.
Whipping my head around, I searched behind me.
No one followed me, right? I am safe now…
Slumping my shoulders, I gasped repeatedly, trying to calm my breathing down. His wallet was still in my hands and I raised it up to look at it, a bittersweet feeling in my chest.
“You bloody thief!” A cry snapped my attention towards the left and I saw, to my utmost horror, the target who I was supposed to have lost minutes ago. His coat was off, tie askew, hair ruffled on his head and he kept gasping, his chest heaving.
He actually chased after me?
“Aah!” I screamed, immediately turning around. But a damn stone had magically planted itself on my way and my left foot crashed against it, sending waves of pain through my body. Within seconds, I felt the air slap against my face as my body tumbled to the ground and I landed against the hard, unforgiving cement floor with a m
uffled ‘oof’.
I could only let out a groan before I felt a large manly hand clamp around my shoulder, before my face was turned around and I came face-to-face with my new nemesis.
Mr. Target.
“You really thought you could just steal from me, didn’t you?” His voice, deeper than it had been when I last heard it, snapped at me and I shut my eyes, my shoulders slumping.
It was now the end of the world. Chest thumping, I didn’t even try to struggle. Maybe that would make it more difficult to convince him not to send me to jail.
Then he reached a hand up and grabbed the cloth on my face, jabbing it down. Swallowing, I opened my eyes, and looked at him as glassy tears clouded my vision.
And then I saw the confused cock of his eyebrow as he stared at me and roved his eyes around my face, going down my eyes, nose… stopping at my mouth.
Blinking, he raised his hand again, slower this time, and took the hoodie off my head.
My hair tumbled down to my shoulders and, widening his eyes, he jerked back his hand.
“A woman?”
Chapter Three
Frank
When the gods of fate decided to create this year, this day, or even this moment, I wonder if they had a good laugh imagining how I would react to what they had in store for me. In fact, they must be laughing right now as I opened the front door and inhaled sharply as I came face-to-face with the smiling, angelic the woman who’d shocked me two days ago.
The whole story of how we got here had been pretty ironic. First, she thieved my wallet, then she led me on what had to be the longest and most excruciating chase of my life and finally let me discover that she was, of all things, a woman.
That last bit had shaken me like nothing else. I’d stood in that alleyway, shocked, my jaw almost falling to the ground as she stood up and her long glorious blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders, almost reaching her waist as she bowed her head and said in a muffled, tortured voice, “I’m so sorry.”
Made for Frank Page 1