Billion Dollar Urge: A Billionaire Romance

by Jackson Kane

  “We go again.” Henry leaned against the plastic-wrapped pallet of boxes in our section of the warehouse and frowned at me, but kept his concerns private. His high cheekbones and severe features gave him a quiet disapproving look. He critiqued everyone, fine tuning the timing, flow and intensity of the fight that would really bring it to life on camera on the day we shot. He drew a quick circle above his head with his hand, motioning for us to get ready. “One more, then we take a break.”

  Let her go. You know the rules. My dull inner voice took on Mitch’s smooth, charismatic pitch to the point where I couldn’t tell the two points of view apart. Why don’t we ever get attached?

  Despite the years since I’d seen him, all of Mitch’s hard lessons were as much a part of me as my hair color or my scars. I knew in my heart of hearts, that regardless of how many films I did or how many people I trained and kept safe on set, it was all just pretend. I was only one bad day away from turning back into the man he made me.

  We don’t get attached because the ones we love always get hurt.

  That was my very first lesson. It was the hardest to learn. I could still feel the cold steel of his gun barrel pushing into the side of my head as they all made me watch. That was the last day I ever cried.

  “Remember half speed, guys,” Henry repeated, although everyone in that room knew he was only talking to me. He lifted his handheld camera and called it. “And ACTION!”

  Thick, three-inch-wide strips of plastic cascaded over me as I stalked through the loading dock entrance. The first two guys rushed me, the first with a pipe, and the second with a shotgun. I dipped in close just beneath the arc of the pipe swing, then stripped it away, and used it to take them both down.

  Every stunt performer I dropped wore Mitch’s grizzled, clean-shaven face. His voice vibrated in the back of my mind with old reaffirmations. Her kind of love isn’t for you

  Three more stunt performers ran into frame unleashing a hail—of what would later be added as CGI—bullets. Using the first guy as a human shield, I scooped up the shotgun and shot out would be steam pipe after the scenic art team was finished with it. When we filmed, it would level the playing field for my character. We didn’t have the actual fog yet either, which was fine because it didn’t matter for our practice. Everyone in the affected area just pretended that the warehouse was filling with steam. As each performer stumbled out of the make-believe fog choking and firing wildly, I stepped in with a cloth over my mouth and took them apart, punishing blow after punishing blow.

  You were raw when I took you in, Dante. An angry slab of malleable steel. Mitch’s voice crept into the recesses of my memory. I forged you, refined you, and gave you purpose. Every time I brought my hammer down and put you through the fire I hardened you, made you stronger.

  This was a particularly vicious fight scene. The director wanted it to look as violent as possible. No fancy spin kicks, or elaborate wall run takedowns, just elbows, knees, and hard impacts. With the way I’d been feeling this past week that was exactly the performance I would give them.

  I could do violent.

  Kevin came in too high and fast. My footwork wasn’t right. I was off balance, but I still managed to lock his gun hand up. I strained against him, making a good show of the rising tension. Kevin was quick and had me at a disadvantage. Sometimes to make it work on camera you couldn’t pull your punches. You had to go all out.

  I gave you an edge, then showed you how to sharpen it. Why the fuck are you using the dull backend of the blade?

  Kevin squeezed off two rounds as we wrestled for control of the pistol. The gasses and tiny particles from the blanks tore thin, shallow scratches into the side of my face. I growled against the red, ringing in my ears from the blanks being fired off way too close, caught my footing and put my weigh into him. The plastic chest protector Kevin wore cracked loudly against my punch to his sternum. Despite the nearly football-rated pads, he dropped hard, wheezing for air.

  Your tenacity and temper…you got a gift, Dante. Some people are born musicians and artists. You’re a killer, boy. You have the heart of a great white shark.

  And it took me ten years to realize that Mitch had the heart of a crocodile.

  Todd, the tallest of the stunt guys, grabbed me from behind. It took a conscious effort to avoid breaking his nose when I did the choreographed reverse headbutt. I got my snap nice and crisp, catching only air, and he staggered back like he was supposed to. The camera only reads two dimensions so you don’t need to be anywhere near a person sometimes to sell a good hit. That’s why I heard a muffled gasp when I followed up with a heavy right cross and felt the tip of Todd’s nose graze the back of my hand.

  Tony was the last one standing, firing wildly with an assault riffle. I didn’t know if it was him or if he was acting the part, but he radiated trepidation as he approached. I’d ducked behind a pillar and some warehouse equipment and waited for him to lose me.

  You can’t escape me forever Dante.

  The second Tony came into to striking range I lit him up with a series of light blows that would look devastating on camera. My vision was a cloudy red mist. I was too distracted with my past and thoughts of Mitch and the old crew catching up with me while I was training Autumn to pull back when I needed to.

  It’s only a matter of time. I’m coming for you, boy.

  Crack.

  My elbow buzzed with sobering pain, clearing my head immediately. Tony’s head snapped hard to the side, his eyes rolling up into his skull. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. During a stunt fight, you knew right away when you fucked up.

  And I’d just fucked up.

  “Cut!” Henry yelled. Not even he could hide the frustration and inevitability from his voice.

  “Shit.” I dropped to a knee to see if he was alright, but the onset medic stepped in and pushed me out of the way. Tony was already coming to when the medic rolled him onto his back. He was only out for a second, but that didn’t matter. Hitting him like that was extremely unprofessional of me.

  “Everyone take lunch, we’re back in forty-five. Dante, can I talk to you?” Although I didn’t mind confrontation, Henry was far too professional for any kind of public argument. He led me toward the stairwell to the second floor that led to a closed children’s Karate studio.

  “You’re not the easiest guy to work with on good days,” He said flatly, his thick, Chinese accent making his words sound even harsher than he probably meant them. “What’s going on with you? Why are you being an asshole?”

  To most people Henry came off as abrasive and cold. He was a blunt man with his opinions, typically speaking without restraint when he found it appropriate to do so. The film industry was chock full of sycophants and smiling liars, which was why I liked having Henry around. He and I respected each other enough to be brutally honest, and we worked well together because of that.

  If I was the type of guy who had friends, he might’ve been one of them.

  “My head… I’ve just got a lot going on right now.” I paused, wanting to explain myself and my actions more, but there was so much I couldn’t find words for. “It’s a long story. I’m not feeling great today.”

  Exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave of molasses. My adrenaline had crested leaving only bitter depression in its wake. I’d been going too hard with everything lately, but this… There was no excuse for kicking the shit out of my employees.

  I remembered when I first started stunt work, how much I enjoyed the challenges that came with every new production. I was never the starry-eyed type, but I used to get excited. The spike of energy that coursed through my veins when the director told me we only had a few takes to pull something incredibly difficult off, then the adrenaline surge that came with nailing it on the first shot. Everyone would clap, scream and cheer for me. I was a rock star for just long enough to take any girl I wanted back to my trailer and fuck her brains out.

  It was an amazing high.

  Now I couldn’t even keep mys
elf from hurting my own guys during a fucking practice. I slumped against the wall, running a hand through my hair. What the hell was I even doing here anymore?

  It was so unlike me to be this twisted up inside. I always knew exactly what I was doing, always in control, but lately… What haunted me more than my past and the sight of Jason kissing Autumn was her face in the parking lot when she finally told me why she was doing all this.

  My mother was the only person that ever told me I was a good person. I went on to do some horrible things, but always hoped deep down that she was right. Was that why I came back, for redemption? To see if she was right? Or maybe to prove to myself something I’d always known to be true?

  That I was too far gone to be saved.

  “You OK?” Henry’s eyebrows pushed together. He cocked his head back, squinting one eye just slightly. It was a surprised mix of concern and disbelief. I was never one to broadcast my feelings.

  “I—” I started, but apathy stole my motivation. Invisible pressure was a mosh pit, crushing into me on all sides at the thought of opening up, even to someone I liked. It gave me a claustrophobic, drowning in daylight feeling. The last thing I wanted was someone I respected to see the real me. I sighed, shaking my head. “Yeah. Just tired is all. Listen, I’m going to cut out early. You mind stepping in for me?”

  Henry gave a quick shake of his head and agreed.

  “Good. Give the guys full stunt adjustments for the day.” A couple extra hundred bucks per person was better than any bullshit apology I could give them for being a prick.

  “Grab a beer after? There’s a decent bar a few miles from here.” Henry nodded toward the direction of the bar.

  I gave his offer some consideration. We’d done it a few times before when we had to figure out some of the more elaborate fight scenes. It was usually a good time, especially because Henry could never hold his liquor for long. Once I got him to sing Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Want to Have Fun at some karaoke dive bar. I laughed hard enough to bring me to tears.

  That already felt like a lifetime ago now…

  No. This was my problem to deal with.

  “Nah.” I offered a convincing enough smirk. I had all the excuses in the world. “I have to get everything ready for this new actress I’m training. Maybe next time.”

  The heart of it was that I could risk my life every day, but sharing my emotions just scared me too much. Besides, there wasn’t any coming back from what I’d done. It was best to just keep moving. It didn’t hurt as much that way.

  “Next time.” Henry agreed, extending his hand. His face softened into a half smile when we shook. He placed his other hand on my shoulder with a clasp. I recognized it for what it was; an unspoken goodbye.

  Avoiding everyone else, I grabbed my crash bag with all my pads and left out the back stairwell.

  My mind was made up by the time I walked outside and felt a warm sliver of sunlight that escaped through a hole in the dreary overcast sky. It never took me long to come to big decisions. I’d tell production to have Henry double the actor in my place for this movie when they went to film. I’d never see him or any of those other guys ever again.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d burned everything to the ground and walked away. Not that I could do that just yet, Lionhouse had an incredible reach. If I bailed now I’d be on the FBI Most Wanted List before I ever made it on a plane.

  Of all the terrible things I’d done in Mitch’s crew, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let Autumn’s mother die the same way mine did. There was no getting around it; I had one last obligation to take care of.

  I called Lionhouse executive offices and had the receptionist put me through to the CEO, Jonathan. “It’s me. The only way this is going to work is if you hire Autumn Moore for the role.”

  “The director has already made her decision,” Jonathan answered.

  “I don’t care. You get the final word. Pick Autumn.”

  “Why the hell should I do that?” Jonathan scoffed.

  “I know there’s something going on with Jane. Speeding up the training time, unrealistic demands, she wants all of this too badly.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jonathan was caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a canned response. “It’s always been Lionhouse’s goal to combine quality content with—”

  “Tell me, Mr. CEO. How is life on Jane’s short leash? Is it starting to feel like a noose yet?” I replied, daring him to answer. Jonathan stayed quiet. Yeah, that’s what I thought. “If you do this, then I’ll owe you a favor.”

  Chapter 10

  Autumn

  It wasn’t until stepping out of the airport and feeling the dry California air for the first time that I realized how much of a blur the past week was.

  I still had no idea what happened. I’d spent days reeling over their decision and sleepless nights pouring over the medical bills that started coming in having no clue what we were going to do. I had started organizing my things to see what I could sell when they called me back saying they changed their minds.

  It still hadn’t fully sunk in until the first fifty-thousand dollars of my advance showed up in the mail. As per the contract, I’d get the remaining one-hundred-thousand when I completed training. Seeing that much money made my head spin… It’d been almost a week and my throat still hurt from screaming.

  I still hadn’t emotionally recovered from the whole thing. I’d never cried so hard for such opposite reasons before. I wasn’t a religious person, but if this wasn’t some kind of miracle, then I didn’t know what was.

  I immediately bought Mom health insurance and set up a bank account for the rest of the expenses that weren’t covered. After an hour long argument Mom agreed to stop working under the condition that she could help me edit and post my videos. So in between the battery of tests and the beginning of her chemo treatments I taught her how to roughly edit and upload video files.

  It was actually a great arrangement; working with her was a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be! It also took a ton of stress off me, because I couldn’t go a full month without releasing new content or my audience might disappear. I had no idea how vigorous and time-consuming my training was going to be, but I doubted I’d have time for much else.

  I hoisted my backpack higher up and rolled my suitcase to a well dressed man holding a sign that had my name on it. Part of me wondered if anyone had ever been abducted from an airport by some guy holding a sign with a common enough last name. That’s when I knew I was really nervous. I always crafted these ridiculous worst-case scenarios in my head when I was anxious about something.

  And that something was spending so much time with Dante Marks for the next several weeks.

  The driver introduced himself and it made me feel more comfortable that he was with Lionhouse studios, Then took my bags and led me to his waiting limo. I slid across one of the bench-style seats that lined both walls. The plush white leather absorbed my weight like I was sitting on a cloud. Monitors, speakers, and rows of dormant LED lights were affixed on the supports between each set of one-way windows. Cabinets of untouched alcohol and glasses were anchored at the far ends of each bench and the mirrored ceiling made the cab look even more enormous than it already was.

  It felt like I’d broken into the hottest nightclub around, but at noon on a sunny Tuesday.

  My first time inside one of these was senior prom when sixteen of us were stuffed into one of these like glamorous sardines. This time was much different. Something about being the only one in such a large empty cabin as we traveled a countryside that seemed to stretch on forever made me feel insignificant.

  I settled in and rubbed my lucky ear stud as the chaotic din of Los Angeles melted into mountainous green swaths, then finally into unforgiving desert. The longer we drove into the middle of nowhere, the more apprehensive I became. The unchanging, barren scenery might as well have been the surface of Mars.

  I was a long way from home
.

  During the drive, I tried to figure out what a training compound would even look like. Where would I spend the next four weeks of my life? My vivid imagination conjured up images of a joyless, metal and concrete prison filled with medieval torture devices. Or even worse, an endless Zumba class.

  This was the right decision? I repeated like a mantra, reminding myself of how impossible this opportunity was. Being selected at all was like hitting the lottery after being struck by lightening. Everything else that happened was going to be easy comparatively.

  It had to be…right?

  In the three hours we’d been driving, the cracked earth and tufts of sun-bleached shrubs had given way to rolling hills and shocks of lush green trees surrounding a large pond. It reminded me of an oasis that a cowboy dying of thirst might hallucinate, while staggering through the Mohave Desert. We turned onto an upward sloping driveway and slowed to a stop in the paved loop that led to a stone walkway.

  It was a private paradise.

  Pretty scenery aside, what was I doing here? The Jenga tower of dread building inside me since I landed took on a bunch of new blocks all at once. This didn’t look like any Hilton I’d ever seen. This was someone’s house! Didn’t they tell me I’d be staying at a hotel?

  “Where are we?” I asked the driver when he opened my door.

  “This is the Teller family estate. This is where you’ll be living during your training.”

  “Oh,” I said, stepping out, distracted with my avalanche of thoughts, fears and wonderment from looking around. Living my whole life on the east coast, this place wasn’t at all what I’d expected. It was gorgeous in a way I’d never seen before!

  The pueblo-style house was the highest structure on the tallest hill around, offering an unbroken panoramic view of the entire area. The house overlooked several smaller staging areas, garages, and equipment buildings, a paved quarter mile track, a few flatbed trailers and even a private airstrip!