Billionaire Games (Standalone)

by Kenya Wright

  The color flushed from her face. “But the news.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What news?”

  Silence moved between us as thoughts slipped over those gray eyes of hers.

  “Asshole,” Dawn growled.

  “Who’s the asshole? Max or me?”

  “No, Caden.” She stormed off. “He’s the asshole.”

  “Wait, Dawn.”

  The men held their guns up and pointed them my way.

  “Are you guys fucking serious?” I stopped and raised my hands. “What are you going to do, kill me in here?”

  Dawn paused and turned around. “Freddy, you have to go. We’ll talk more at the end of the week. I’ll explain everything to you but right now, I have to. . .I have to deal with something.”

  “Not by yourself!” I called after, but she’d already rushed away. “Dawn, we’re going to finish this conversation.”

  I raced after her. One guard got in my way. The other grabbed my arms. And the last one punched me square in the fucking gut.

  “Stay away from her,” the man snarled.

  I coughed, tasted blood, and spat on the ground. “You’re a big, mean guy when your two girlfriends are around to hold me back.”

  The guy reached his fist back to punch me again. I was hoping he would. I was ready to raise my foot and stomp him right in the midsection.

  But Smoke appeared and saved the day. Money well spent. He was fast. Ungodly fast. Evaporating and materializing like the smoke that he was named after. He melted out of the shadows, snatched up the guy who was about to punch me and slung him into several bushels of golden hair. “Quite a party, innit?”

  “Yeah.” I straightened my shirt.

  The other two men looked at Smoke, exchanged glances, and then rushed away. Smoke didn’t try to stop them. “Those guys aren’t that tough. They rushed off and they’re the ones with the guns.”

  I fixed my jacket. “Yeah, well you looked like you were going to go all Steven Siegel on them.”

  “We need to teach you how to fight, bruv.” Smoke grabbed my phone off the floor. Sometime in the struggle it had slipped out of my pocket.

  “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” I grabbed the phone from him.

  Smoke stared around at the empty room. “Man, it doesn’t seem like you’re loving or fighting right now. The cattie ran off. Wagwon.”

  “Wag what?”

  “What happened?”

  “She thought my brother was dead and then something else.”

  “So demman told her something?”

  “Uh, something like that. If you meant that I think Caden told her that Max was dead, then yes.”

  “Of course, bruv.” Smoke whistled and walked off to the shadows, picking up a dark gray fur coat. “Sorry. I didn’t want to mess up my fur in the fight. Had to take it off.”

  “It’s around ninety-five degrees in DC today.”

  “I like it hot, just like you.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but I was sure he’d smoked a joint when he was in the bathroom. That twisted, earthy scent of marijuana and sage drifted off the fur.

  “We should get out of here before more of Caden’s goons show up.” I went into my phone’s contacts as we rushed off to the door.

  Let me check on Max just in case.

  My heart boomed in my chest.

  She has to be wrong. I won’t even think about the possibility of something happening to Max.

  Several rings sounded and then my brother’s voice came on the line. “What the fuck, Freddy? I’m knee deep in the prettiest pussy in the Persian Gulf.”

  “You’re not supposed to put your knee in it.” Relief rushed through me.

  “Make it quick.”

  “Are you okay?”

  With clear annoyance, Max said, “What do you want?”

  “Why would Dawn think you were dead?”

  “Because she’s probably wished I was dead for a long time.” He hung up.

  “Max?” I cursed under my breath and shoved the phone back into my pocket.

  “Is he good?” Smoke asked.

  Why would Caden want Dawn to think that my brother was dead?

  “Yeah, he’s good,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Once Smoke and I hit the stairs, we rushed up them, looking around with each step. It didn’t take long. At the entrance, Caden had been nice enough to have his men hold the doors open and direct our path with their guns.

  Now what?

  Hot air hit my face once we got outside.

  Smoke put on his sunglasses and got on my side. “Where are we going now?”

  “I’m not sure. I have to consider something.”

  “What?” Smoke scrunched his brown face. “What are you going to check on, fam? This man’s files or personal records? I haven’t been able to find anything. Even when I checked the owner’s name of this gallery, it came up as a corporation. Bad people, bruv. Beastly men. Men that rock hard from the US to the UK, man. International business gangsters. Are you listening?”

  I stopped by the two sculptures of hearts pouring red water into the fountain. Dawn should’ve been a writer. She’d painted an exact picture in her diary of the whole area.

  What is Caden doing? Is this some sort of game? He tells her my brother is dead, for what?

  Smoke stood in front of me and didn’t say anything else.

  “No.” I shook my head. “If Caden is mixed up with bad people, then that’s even more reason to get Dawn away from him.”

  “But does the girl want to leave him?” Smoke asked.

  “Yeah. I’m sure of it.”

  So, Caden has ties with organized crime. That doesn’t scare me. I don’t know anyone that’s built their family’s estates with clean money.

  “We’re still going after him?” Smoke asked.

  “Yes.”

  Smoke frowned. “That must be some good love, fam.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I’d like to stay in DC for a few days,” Smoke continued. “See if I can get more info on him. The vibes are banging here. You should stay too.”

  I nodded. “I’m thinking that’s a good idea. I’ll contact you when I need your help. For now, we’re good to go.”

  “Try not to get in more trouble, bruv.”

  “I’ll try.”

  We parted ways and the only thought that came to mind was the fact that I had to get back to Dawn’s diary. After one passage, I’d found her, stood right next to her, and caressed her skin. I had to see her again and the more I knew about Caden and Dawn’s past, the closer I would get to her. I pulled out my phone and texted the person that I didn’t think I would contact ever again.

  Me: Lotus, I need to hire you. I have a problem. Can you get away?

  No response came from Lotus.

  It wasn’t like we’d been friends. The whole time she guarded me, we barely talked. It wasn’t until I’d walked in on her choking the life out of the girl I’d presently been fucking, that I realized we had a problem.

  “What are you doing?” I ran out of my bathroom with my towel wrapped around my waist.

  Lotus gripped Tiffany’s neck. “I don’t like her.”

  I yelled, “Let her go!”

  Lotus released Tiffany.

  “Jesus Christ,” Tiffany gasped and fell back onto the bed. “I thought I was going to die.”

  Fear and anger bubbled inside me. I stormed Lotus’s way. “What the hell were you doing?”

  Lotus didn’t look at me. Silence filled the air. Her long, black hair fell to her hips. Lotus leaned over toward Tiffany and my poor lover screamed. I stood there in shock, not ready for whatever my once trusty bodyguard would do. Thankfully, Lotus just yanked a long bloody needle out of Tiffany’s thigh, folded her hair around it, and pinned her strands up into a bun.

  In a daze, Tiffany stared at the wound left in her thigh and the blood beading around the hole. “I didn’t even know she stabbed me.”

  “I’m s
orry, Tiffany.” I went to her. “Are you okay?”

  “For the hundredth time, my name is not Tiffany.”

  “Yes, but I thought we agreed it was easier to just call you that.”

  Tiffany said something else, but I had no idea. She’d lost my attention. I returned my focus back to Lotus. “Why did you do that?”

  Lotus targeted a violent gaze at me. “I love you.”

  And then she walked away.

  Before that conversation, we’d barely had a couple of sentences between each other. She’d always been silent and watching behind me. After the choking incident, I called Dad and let him know. Lotus was flown off the yacht the next morning to my father’s property and was watching his wife by the afternoon.

  There’s no way Lotus will help me. I should’ve talked to her or at least checked up on her years ago. Fuck.

  The only option I could think of was sticking with Smoke and returning back to that stupid fucking diary.

  Chapter 22

  Dawn’s Diary

  A complete gentleman, Caden didn’t try anything on the first three dates. Not even a kiss. And I wanted to taste those lips. The most he ever did was hold my hand. Sometimes squeeze it. The whole time, his voice twirled and slipped along my flesh and I had the naughtiest thoughts when he talked about regular things.

  At the end of each date, he’d raise my hand to his mouth and leave a sweet kiss as his gaze remained on me, penetrating every part of my flesh. I was hungry for him, but I stayed in the moment and never pushed it further.

  After three weeks of his 18th-century courting, he asked me the oddest question. “Do you want to come to my island?”

  We’d been on a date, munching on sushi and planning on catching a movie later.

  I choked on my wine. “Did you say island?”

  He smirked. “Yes.”

  “Okay. This time I’m going to swoon a little and then nicely tell you, no.”

  Shock replaced the confidence. “Why, no?”

  “Because. . .” Instead of finishing my sentence, I finished my wine. How could I go off with him to an island? And what kind of a man had an island anyway? I still didn’t know anything about Caden and he continued to avoid any of my questions when they became personal.

  “Hmmm.” He poured me some more wine. “Are you afraid to come because on an island there would be no way for you to escape?”

  “O-kay. So, I wasn’t thinking about that but now I am, psycho man.”

  He laughed. “We could invite your friends. I have six guest houses there. There’s a small village on the outskirts. Barely a hundred people who keep the area going and make sure my land is fine when I’m gone. There are a few shops and small stores.”

  I shook my head. “How does one own an island?”

  “By purchasing it.”

  I wanted to ask how much it cost but anytime I brought up a question about his money or career, he always avoided it and I ended up feeling scummy and nosy for asking. In the end, his finances were none of my business.

  “I want you to come to my island and help me celebrate July Fourth. Invite four friends and tell them they can bring somebody.”

  Excitement rushed through me. “I don’t know.”

  He took his phone out and handed it to me. “You do know. Call them.”

  “But. . .where is the island?”

  “Off the coast of Port Alfred, South Africa.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “It’s a bit far. I know.”

  “Sure. South Africa. Just a few miles away.” I gripped his phone. “I don’t know.”

  “Your friends will protect you.”

  “But, Caden, Are you. . .”

  “What?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable if your friends were there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then invite every fucking person you know. I just want you there with me.”

  I was about to say something else, but he raised one finger and said, “No.”

  I laughed. “You didn’t know what I was going to say.”

  “No, I don’t expect anything from you but your time.”

  “Okay.” I exhaled and dialed Sylvia first, hoping she would still answer since I was using his phone.

  And that was how my friends and I ended up in South Africa on that beautiful Fourth of July. My girls brought the guys they were dating at the time.

  The island struck me first as a modern-day Atlantis. The ocean shined in this ancient blue that took my breath away. I wanted to run around every inch of it, discovering all its unique details. Caden had mentioned that we could hike on the North end and use his horses to go riding on the beach on the South end. I fell in love with the land immediately. There was this electrifying energy radiating all through the place.

  And Caden held nothing back with spoiling us. Each couple had their own guesthouse, fully staffed, and filled with food supplies. When Sylvia saw her place, she called in pure glee and notified me that all their beds had baskets with high-end wine and cheese and that fresh flowers bloomed in every room.

  Caden and I had arrived after everyone else. It had been a ten-hour flight to Istanbul and then an eleven-hour flight to Cape Town, before taking Caden’s yacht to his island. The only thing that made the flights bearable was my excitement for the trip and the fact that I got to sleep in Caden’s arms most of the flights. He still hadn’t kissed me although he’d spent every moment spoiling the shit out of me.

  Is this all real? Is he truly this amazing?

  Once we made it to the island, he gave my luggage to his staff and walked me to my own room. “Let me know if you find your suite comfortable. I won’t be coming inside.”

  “Why not?”

  He raised my hand and kissed it as he always did. “For this trip, you won’t have to worry about anything. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I didn’t argue with him, although I wanted to. Instead, I opened the door like a good girl as my panties remained soaked between my thighs.

  Relax. He wants to take this slow. That’s a good thing. I’m horny. That’s fine. I’ll just be masturbating a whole lot here while everyone’s sexing the night away.

  When I reached my bed, he cleared his throat behind me. I turned around.

  He stood in the doorway and hit me with that intoxicating, hazel gaze. “Let me know if you want or need anything?”

  I need you. I need your dick. And I need this to all be real. Not a fairytale. You and me. Real. Your dick too. Big and real.

  And speaking even more of his dick, I thought of it constantly. Such a bad girl. At times, I zoned in and out of our conversation, wondering how big it lay in those pants. How long did it hang? How good was he with using it?

  I did my best not lick my lips.

  As if he knew what was on my mind, he rubbed his mouth in that sexy way. “What are you thinking about?”

  “You.”

  “Interesting.” He bit that bottom lip.

  Why couldn’t I just be happy with what we had right now? Did I really need to have it all? Why couldn’t I control my desires?

  My nipples hardened as he drank in my body, not even pretending to not be interested. He craved me just as much as I yearned for him. It was in those pretty eyes and dripping from his lips.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “You’re not helping me focus.”

  I smirked. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not. I’m trying to be a good boy with you.”

  “Oh, okay.” I ran my fingers through my hair and his gaze followed the movement. “Shouldn’t good boys be rewarded?”

  He fisted his hands but kept them at his side. “Tomorrow I’ve made plans for all of us—shopping, exploring, eating and drinking until we pass out in the sand. There’s a movie theater on the bottom level.”

  So, you’re not going to answer my question. Fine.

  “It’ll be a long day tomorrow.” He backed away.

  I left the lust
between us alone. “Then maybe I should rest.” And masturbate. “It’s late today and everyone else is probably just as exhausted. What time do you want to meet tomorrow?”

  “What time do you wake up?” he asked.

  “I’m an early bird. Usually six or seven in the morning.”

  “Too early.” He moved his gaze to my breasts and kept it there. “I want you to relax and take your time. Order breakfast from my staff and whatever else you want. We’ll meet around ten.”

  “Okay.”

  He slipped his gaze along my skin. “Goodnight, Dawn.”

  “Goodnight.”

  That night, I lay in bed, wet and hungry for him. Butterflies twirled and twirled in my stomach.

  I’d read an article long ago about how British neurologists were researching why falling for someone tended to be described as butterflies in the stomach. This exciting nervousness that people felt when they stood in another person’s energy and blazed with desire. The scientist identified four parts of the brain that reacted when someone fell in love. Three parts triggered euphoria and excitement. Two of those three parts were deep in the cortex. The third lay in the central lobe. And the fourth part of the brain was directly linked to perception of love and pain. It controlled both as it caused those churning feelings in the stomach. So, when you were in pain, your stomach twisted and when you were in love, it did the same.

  No wonder people never know if they’re really in love or not? And that’s why some people love when it hurts so good.

  For these past weeks with Caden, he’d stimulated those four parts of my brain. Had my thoughts scattered, yet focused on him.

  This is too fast. I shouldn’t be feeling this way so soon. Is it the pain of not relieving my horniness or am I falling for him?

  I fell asleep that night, never answering my questions and adding even more confusion to my head.

  The next day came fast.

  As soon as the sunlight hit my window, I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. Figuring I was jetlagged, I tiptoed downstairs to Caden’s kitchen and hoped to find a tea bag. There was no need to call a staff member for something so simple and besides, I wasn’t used to people waiting on me.

  The whole thing felt weird. The whole house was huge. My whole reality had shifted on its head.

  I’m in freaking South Africa with the hottest guy on the planet. Is this really my life?