A Sugar Daddy’s Secret: Billionaire Romance

by Kathleen Hill

  She was determined to make him proud no matter what she had to do. She would have a wonderful successful husband, the kind you see in television commercials, who does everything that she wanted, enjoyed eating her out and had a larger than average penis that he wielded like a French fencing master. She found the man—a successful lawyer with a civil rights background. He was handsome, attentive in bed and made well into six figures. Perfect! This was just how things were supposed to turn out! They were going to build the ideal, affluent yuppie family!

  She never would have suspected that her husband, who fought relentlessly for truth and justice in court, was deceiving her for months with another woman.

  Chapter 3

  Colin

  Helicopters swirled overhead. Sirens blared. Lights flashed. He looked through the side mirror. A large pair of black leather boots slowly approached. He had the sudden urge to jump out of the car, stand toe to toe with these assholes and let them know what he really thought. No more being nice. And trying not ruffle any of their delicate human feathers.

  He closed his eyes and sighed, trying the quell the rebellion rising in his spirit. Things couldn’t keep going on like this for much longer. Anger simmered in his chest.

  A fist banged against the window. Twice. Asshole!

  He rolled it down, flashed his pearly whites.

  “How are you, officer? What can I do for you?”

  “Everything is just fine, Mr. Swartz. The chief just wanted us to check on you that's all.”

  “That's excellent, officer. Have you gentlemen spoken with the mayor lately? He assured her that whatever issues we may have had in the past, all of that is behind us now. Isn’t that, right?”

  The crude, burly cop started laughing. His double chin quivered. He half expected crumbs and critters to come spilling out the folds in the flesh. A few of his buddies got off their bikes and walked towards him. Within moments all three of them were laughing.

  Well at least somebody was having fun. Assholes. He didn’t know why he’d ever thought that a career in law enforcement would have suited her.

  If they didn’t have her completely surrounded – – two helicopters still buzzing above – – he would've fired up the engine and taken off. That would've sent them scrambling to save their overstuffed asses. The long black boots stomped in his direction.

  “Thank you for the laugh, Mr. Swartz. I guess a busy man like yourself doesn’t always get a chance to keep up with the latest news.

  “Officer, what exactly is so funny? I happen to consider the mayor a great friend of his.”

  “I guess you haven't heard…”

  “What?”

  “Your great friend, Mr. Mayor, got caught in a slightly compromising situation last night. He'll be stepping down.”

  “What?”

  “Effective immediately.”

  “This can’t be true. This must be fake news.”

  “No, sir. I would never go around spreading fake news. And do you know what this means?” He snarled and pointed a finger in Colin’s face.

  Colin’s first instinct was to grab the finger, separate bone from socket, leaving him howling in primal pain. Thankfully, he was able to restrain his baser instincts.

  “No, officer. What does that mean?”

  A sadistic smile spread across his face. He waved the patrol cars stationed in front of her away. Their siren shouted, then both vehicles spun and shot away from the scene. The two helicopters pulled 180s as well, disappearing from view within seconds.

  “Be careful, Mr. Swartz. There are aliens among us.”

  Chapter 4

  Samantha

  She clicked on several headlines, mouth gaping open as she stared at the picture of the mayor and handcuffs. He’d been busted making a huge heroin and meth deal while wearing expensive women's clothing—Nordstrom’s. The story was an international sensation. How could anyone so visible get themselves caught up in such an absurd situation? She looked at the byline. She didn't recognize the writer. That didn’t stop me from being a little bit jealous.

  But why? This wasn't the sort of crap that she wanted to report on. This was precisely the kind of shit that she hated. Yet, she couldn't turn away from the story.

  As it turned out, there was actually more to the article than sensationalism. The mayor’s arrest could have serious repercussions. Everything centered around a list of people of a supposed alien race who were living among human beings. This list, which had been allegedly compiled by federal agencies, had been submitted to mayors of the large US cities. The mayors had the power to use the list as they saw fit. The mayor of San Francisco had so far refused to target anybody on the list. But that could all change if a new mayor was brought in.

  “Samantha? What have you been up to?”

  She smiled and opened her arms wide. Jacqueline was the perfect person to see in a moment like this. They met while in graduate school. Samantha was at NYU getting her degree in Journalism and Jaqueline was studying Design at Parsons. They both enjoyed tequila shots and ranting about the sad state of the world, while they laughed, giggled and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

  “I’m great,” Samantha said. “I’ll never get tired of coming back down here.”

  Jacqueline rolled her eyes and sat down. “This neighborhood might end up being one of the last true bastions of freedom.” They stared at each other in silence. Then they burst out laughing.

  That was usually the kind of thing that Jacqueline would say.

  She didn’t expect that talking with Jacqueline would bring back so many of her good memories of graduate school back on the East Coast and end of making her feel even worse about how her life had progressed over the last couple of years out on the West Coast. She'd come here so full of hope and ambition. San Francisco was the place to be. That’s where the real action was going down. New York was overrated. All hip, super creative and soon to be super rich, were getting the hell out.

  Those days, when her parents still helped out with her expenses and before she had to start paying back college loans, seemed blissful and carefree when contrasted with her current struggles. In those days, she still had the luxury of thinking about things like trust and justice and making the world a better place. Samantha didn’t have to worry about whether or not she would have to sacrifice her principles in order to quell the rumbling in her stomach.

  That magical life had drifted so far into her past. But now Jaqueline’s tired face, bags under eyes, lines around her mouth, was bringing it all back. She double-shifted as a barista and double-fisted as a bartender. That’s what her prestigious design degree had prepared her for. Were they both failures? She couldn’t help wondering. She was a lowly assistant reporter. She went around telling people that she was a journalist. What a joke! She couldn't get within 100 feet of any real journalism action.

  And her friend who had dreamed about becoming an important fashion designer, her work moving up and down the runways of Paris, Milan and London was serving caramel macchiato’s and vodka tonics, making barely over minimum wage with no benefits. Was this the life that they had signed up for? What sense did it make? Where were they going? None of these things made any sense to Samantha.

  She'd done everything right. She'd been an honest person. She'd worked hard and earned good grades. Yet it seemed like there was this huge mountain that she had to climb every day, this huge and ever-increasing debt. There was no way she would ever reach the top of the mountain, no way she would ever conquer this obstacle, throw its weight off her shoulders triumphantly. It felt like she was trapped, locked in a life of low-wage living, spending eighty percent of her money on rent, and the rest on food and just enough alcohol to make me forget, to make the pain go away, to make it all not seem so miserable. So worthless. What was the point? How much longer could she go on living this solitary life? Pretending like she was happy? Like she was really seeking fulfillment in her work and not just trying to fill the holes in her soul?

  Everywhere sh
e looked, Samantha saw happy people smiling, kissing, cuddling, loving each other, people going home to houses and lives and children. A life.

  “Is everything okay?” Jaqueline asked.

  Samantha shook her head from side to side. She must've zoned out. She didn't know how long they were there at the table and she was looking to her phone and she was just looking around, grasping at things, trying to make sense of her life.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “It's really nice to see you.”

  Jaqueline stared back at her with a blank expression, as if she didn’t care one way or another.

  They talked for a few more minutes and then said goodbye. Shortly after she left the cafe, Samantha’s phone started ringing. It was her boss at The San Francisco Chronicle. For a second she worried that she had forgotten to do something the day before.

  Her boss talked excitedly, hardly taking the time to breathe. It had to do with the mayor and the list of potential aliens that he had in his possession. According to her boss, some of the names were being leaked to the press. And as it turned out, some of the people who belonged to this supposed “alien race” were major players in real estate and finance.

  “Colin Rafferty,” her boss said. “I want you to go to his building and start asking questions.”

  Chapter 5

  Colin

  He fixed his eyes on Ian's gut. It seemed to expand each time he looked at it. Once again he blathering on and on about the latest improvement in his golf game or his newest piece of golf equipment that was guaranteed to make him a more competitive player.

  When he talked about that foolish human game, requiring long pieces of metal or wood to strike a tiny ball, all he could do was shake his head in confusion. He'd never been able to understand the appeal of that particular human ritual. And of course, the men would say that they were making one deal or another, while they trudged their overweight, out of shape asses from one hole to the next.

  And every now and then, things would really ridiculous when the play and the lackey who had been assigned to him had to go deep into the woods in search of the tiny white ball. Tiny balls. Long, powerful sticks. Sometimes the symbols that these European-descended men clung were too damn obvious. And if all those reasons weren’t enough to denounce this silly human game. There was the absurdity and naivety of conducting any sort of business in an open air environment. No serious person would expose to potential spy—not to mention killer-drones in such a reckless fashion.

  But there were more pressing matters weighing on Colin’s spirit. This situation with the mayor could very quickly spiral out of control, putting their entire race in danger. For centuries they had lived harmoniously with human beings. There was no way to know how long that would be the case. Yet things did not seem promising.

  “Any more news on the mayor?” Colin asked.

  Ian immediately stopped talking. His body became rigid. Colin sensed that Ian knew something that he wasn’t disclosing. That pissed him off. For the second time in the last few hours, he felt a tide of anger rising within him.

  Their eyes locked. “What is it?” Colin asked, standing up, and walking around his desk. He put both his hands on Ian’s shoulders and stared deeply into his eyes.

  Ian’s head dropped. Then he slowly raised his eyes. “It started a few hours ago.”

  “What?”

  “Someone’s leaking the names to the media. I think that’s why the cops pulled you over. Did they say anything?”

  Colin thought back to the dramatic pull over the police department had prepared for him that morning. He tried to remember if that jerk who’d taunted him had said anything about the list. All he could see was that smiling, arrogant face.

  “The guy was an asshole but he didn’t say…”

  Colin went silent. His eyes opened wide. Then he remembered: “Be careful, Mr. Swartz. There are aliens among us.”

  He told Ian about the ominous words that the policemen had said right before letting him go.

  “Shit,” Ian said. “It’s only a matter of time now. I don’t think that we are safe here anymore.”

  It was a reality that they would have to deal with. But this wasn’t a time to panic. They needed to be cool-headed and iron fisted. If they were going to be attacked, then they would have to fight back. The police had been flexing their muscle showing what they were capable of.

  “Organize our tactical units,” Colin said. “And we need our best drivers on the road. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to ambush us.”

  “Ambush? You really think that they want us dead?”

  “Brother, we cannot afford to be naive. The threat is clear.”

  For the next several minutes they both remained quiet. Colin’s train of thought was disturbed by the buzzing of his phone. The name on the screen both surprised and alarmed him. It was one of pimply-faced kids who worked the front desk in his condo. Fuck! It was never good news when they contacted him. What else was going wrong?

  According to his informants, there was a female reporter, early twenties, snooping around, asking questions.

  “I have to get out of here,” Colin said. “I need to find out who that person is.”

  “An undercover? A cop posing as a reporter?”

  “The only way to know is to get over there.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Ian asked.

  “No. like I told you before. Get the tactical units ready. And make sure that we only have our best drivers on the road.”

  After giving Ian a few more instructions, Colin hurried out of the office. A bullet-proof black SUV, being driven by his most trusted driver, was waiting for him outside.

  Twenty minutes later Colin’s battle ready vehicle skidded to a stop in front of his condo. He hopped out and quickly ran around toward the side door. A woman screeched and fell backwards.

  He took several more steps and stopped. Froze. What had he done? He slowly turned around. His eyes locked on a beautiful young woman lying on her back, distress etched on her face. For a few moments, they stared at each other in silence. A strange sensation passed through him as if he'd seen this face once before, had glimpsed those dark green eyes and those pouty, pulpy lips.

  “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head from side to side. No, she wasn’t okay. He took hold of her arm, gently turned it, getting a better look at the scrapes and scratches on her forearms.

  “I’m really sorry about this.”

  He wanted her to be okay. But he didn’t want to end up walking into a lawsuit. He had places to be. But standing over her, attending to her and trying to comfort her, seemed to be exactly what he should be doing in that particular moment. It had been a long time since he'd experienced something so intense.

  “Colin, let's go!” His driver called out.

  He heard the sounds of several cars speeding in their direction. Not police cars, thankfully. But there was time to give thanks.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  The shots started flying. Shooters were hanging out the windows of the rapidly approaching cars. They were steaming toward them. There was nowhere to run. Fuck! He looked down at the young woman. She screamed and covered her head as bullets ping and popped all around her. He crawled towards her. Grabbed her arm and dragged her into the back of the car.

  The shots kept ricocheting off the bulletproof exterior. But those sounds were never comforting.

  “Bruno, get us to the cove.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  The cove was a luxury apartment where Colin would sometimes conduct top secret meetings. Once they arrived, he carried the young woman to one of the most secure rooms in the building. She had passed out during the drive.

  She was banging on the door and screaming. She sounded like she was going crazy. He hadn't meant to leave her in there. He rushed down the hallway.

  The door scanned his iris, then opened. She was pressed against the back wall, body heaving, a primal fear flashing in her eyes. What a stra
nge, dynamic energy she possessed.

  He slowly raised his hands in the air, showing her that he had come in peace. But it wouldn’t be that easy to win her trust. She looked ready for a fight.

  “I’m very sorry. I don't know what happened out there. But we had to get you to safety as soon as possible.”

  She was silent. The body heaving had slowed. She seemed to be regaining control of her emotions. He hoped that was a good thing. A fierce intelligence gleamed in her eyes. He just wanted her to give him a chance to tell her the truth.

  “Who are you? And why did you bring me here?”

  “Let's just say that I'm your guardian angel,” he answered.

  She didn’t seem too impressed with the answer. He couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t one of his best lines.

  “Where did you bring me?”

  “A secret location that I cannot divulge to you.”

  “Why?”

  “You ask a lot of questions. A few too many for my liking.”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  Colin looked her up and down. He thought back to the reason he had hurried back to his condo: the call from the front desk. There was a reporter asking questions. They had described her as young and attractive.

  “What do you do?”

  She didn’t answer right away. She seemed to sense that things might be taking a turn.

  “Journalist,” she said.

  “Journalist? So you were the one trying to gain intel on me?”

  He took several steps towards he. Maybe this was all a set up. Maybe she was just posing as a reporter. If so, who had sent her?

  “Hey, don’t come any closer!”

  He stopped. Stared. Who the fuck was she? H Colin had already brought her behind the scenes of his operation. Past the point of no return.

  He moved closer to her, hands at his sides in fighting position. “Who are you?”

  She took a deep breath before answering. “I’m Samantha Biscune, a reporter, well an assistant to a reporter at The San Francisco Chronicle.