We were a few minutes late as Chloe and I stepped onto the stairs leading up to St. Puerto’s lounge bar. One of my security guys stood at the top, and as soon as we were close enough, he said, “Everything’s clear, Miss Tanner.”
Chloe gave him a curt nod, opened the door, and waited for me to step through before falling in at my heels.
It still felt strange having a woman open doors. My dad had drilled chivalry into me—hold doors for your mom, your sister, your girlfriends; pay for meals; the lady goes first. Those old instincts had to be set aside when it came to Chloe, but it was what I got for choosing a woman as my bodyguard.
Entering the building was like ducking underwater. The sounds of the city—horns, shouting, the constant churn—dropped ten decibels the moment the door shut behind us. It all dissolved into the low, pleasant murmur of people enjoying a mid-afternoon indulgence.
St. Puerto’s Lounge was one of the better-known spots near Times Square. Actors, businessmen, and the general elite came here to sip cocktails and discuss the kinds of things that would shape the world for the next decade.
Small marble-topped tables were scattered around the large room. Dark wood dominated the interior, accented with gold that complemented the marble and created an understated elegance. Waiters in deep navy glided from table to table, delivering drinks with ghostlike silence. The air smelled faintly of citrus layered over coffee.
I recognized a few of the patrons, and it was difficult not to be a little starstruck.
What was stranger was how many of them seemed to recognize me. I’d been well-known before, but the last week or two had turned that dial up to eleven. More than a few heads turned as Chloe and I passed, heading toward the elevators to the rooftop pods.
Paparazzi used to be a problem, but Charity had folded managing them into her job de***********ion. With Julia’s help, she’d become adept at seeding information that sent most photographers and ambulance chasers wherever she wanted, leaving only a handful of competent ones for my security team. She’d even mulled over ways to weaponize them.
Needless to say, my earlier insecurities about Charity were… fading quickly.
I did my best to ignore the attention as we stepped into the elevator, my eyes roaming the polished brass doors as they began to slide shut. “I seem to ride a lot more elevators than I used to.”
“You’re rich now,” Chloe replied. “Gotta get closer to God.”
“Cute,” I said as I felt the lift take off.
Reaching the top floor, the doors opened to reveal a smiling hostess. “Mr. Upton? Right this way.”
As we followed her down a wide hallway made entirely of dark glass, my stomach twisted tighter than it had when I’d met with Sachiko, and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. It was crazy—sit down at a meeting of utmost importance with a representative of one of the most powerful families in the world, and I was just as nervous as I would be around someone with only a fraction of the significance.
My mind could be a strange place.
Halfway down the hall, she left us in front of one of the sliding doors of the glass pods, letting us know that a waiter would be right with us.
“I’ll just wait out here,” Chloe said.
I glanced down the hall—sure enough, two other guards stood outside two other pods, each keeping watch over their charges.
Chloe slid the glass door open. I stepped inside.
The private pod was… surprisingly intimate. Dark paneling lined the far wall, raised just enough to let the hidden lights beneath cast a soft, warm, flattering glow.
Charity sat at the table, looking resplendent in a cocktail dress and tasteful jewelry. Her hair fell naturally down her back in a dark, glossy sheet, held in place by decorative barrettes that kept it off her face.
The second person in the room was Karly Titus.
She looked beautiful—soft, dark-blonde curls framing her heart-shaped face.
She wore a dark blue silk blouse that hung off one shoulder and swooped low over her chest, showing off delicate collarbones, warm creamy skin, and the barest hint of cleavage.
When the door clicked shut behind me, she stood and gave me a bright smile. Now that the table wasn’t blocking my view, I caught the rest: black, well-fitted pants—just tight enough to show well-proportioned hips.
Not that I didn’t know what she looked like already. I’d seen one of her first movies, Blood Ship Five, which had a tasteful shot of her climbing out of bed in nothing but lingerie.
She extended her hand. “Mr. Upton? Karly Titus.”
I took her hand—soft, warm, and delicate. “I know who you are, Ms. Titus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
What I saw next surprised me. Plain as day, in her eyes was pure relief, mixed with awe.
She hadn’t been sure I’d come and was grateful that I had.
Here I was, the starstruck boy meeting an up-and-coming, beautiful celebrity, yet she looked almost as intimidated as I felt. Something about that loosened the knot in my stomach.
“Please… call me Karly, and the pleasure is all mine,” she said. “I know you’re a busy man. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
I wanted to tell her I was the one grateful she’d flown all the way from Vegas, but I reined it in and instead said, “Of course! Please have a seat.”
I took the seat next to Charity, who was practically beaming. She’d been trying to make this happen for a while.
A waiter came moments later and we ordered drinks—my treat with no expense spared. I wanted to make a good first impression on the celebrity.
While we waited, we made small talk. Karly told me about growing up in Canada, moving to the States to hunt for work, the struggle of living in Los Angeles, and eventually finding a roommate who’d become a boyfriend. They’d bought a house together last year… and were now trying to untangle that mess, since they were no longer dating.
Our drinks arrived. I used the pause to shift the conversation.
“So, Charity says you’re interested in making a movie.”
Karly waved a dismissive hand. “I have a project I’ve been working on for a couple of years. Jack was helping me, but that… stopped when we broke up.”
“What’s it about?”
“A hostage situation,” she said, “in an escape room.”
My eyebrows climbed. I glanced at Charity, who watched me over her cocktail with a pleased little expression.
“That sounds cool.”
“I think so,” Karly said. “I’ve already got a writing credit—they liked the revision work I did. And I’ll be one of the main characters.”
She leaned forward, her loose blouse falling open just enough to show a touch more cleavage. Eye contact became a challenge.
“But that’s not what I wanted to talk about today,” she added.
That threw me. I’d been told she wanted me to fund her film.
“It’s not?”
She rested her elbow on the table, chin in her palm, as the alcohol dulled her own anxiety, making her more comfortable.
“No. I wanted to talk to you about something else entirely. About the Vegas situation.”
“You mean the shooting?”
“Yeah. I think it would make a great movie.”
My reaction was immediate—visceral. The idea of the most terrifying moment of my life being played out for the world to see made my skin crawl.
I almost told her no, but then paused, reconsidering.
People had shown me an enormous amount of sympathy when I came back from Vegas. Very few knew the real story. Most thought I’d just been caught up in terrorism or an armed robbery. Many didn’t even realize I’d been kidnapped. Of course, there were stories… rumors of a kidnapping, but they were often accompanied by wild and outlandish details or speculation.
In the past two weeks, I’d burned through all the goodwill Vegas had earned me.
I could use more.
A tight, well-crafted retelling of my story, delivered to the silver screen, might be precisely the kind of reset in public sentiment I needed.
Karly saw my hesitation and went into damage control. “I know what you went through was traumatic. I’m not asking for a ‘yes’ right now. Just… think about it.”
I studied her, mulling it over. “What do you know about the details?”
She hesitated. “Erin and the others stayed with me, so… probably more than most. I wouldn’t include anything you weren’t comfortable with being in the story.”
‘Weren’t comfortable with’… what a fucking understatement.
I could still feel Charity’s blood on my hands… still see Ray’s head burst across the concrete.
Still feel the sting of hopelessness as Charity was dying in my arms.
I looked at that same girl sitting next to me. “What do you think? You lived it as much as I did.”
Charity’s wistfulness vanished, replaced by a sober, drawn look. “I… I wouldn’t mind. Not if it helped us.”
I turned back to Karly. “So, this is ‘based on true events’? Mostly entertainment with a certain level of truth?”
“I’m not looking to make a documentary, if that’s what you mean.”
“Right. I can’t imagine doing this without taking it seriously.” I took a breath. “I suppose you’ll want to know everything.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable sharing,” she said. I could see her excitement growing by the moment—as if every second I didn’t say no, her dream inched closer to reality.
And… I found myself wanting to help her make it happen. Not because she was Karly fucking Titus. Not just because she was a beautiful, talented actor.
No. Because ideas were starting to spark in my own head.
“There will have to be conditions,” I said.
“Of course.”
“I get approval over everything. And veto power over anything I don’t like.”
Most people would have pushed back at that demand. Karly didn’t. She hesitated but ultimately accepted it by giving me a nod, though a reluctant one.
“I’m not trying to write it for you,” I clarified. “I just want to make sure it’s told from a certain angle.”
“What angle?” she asked, tilting her head.
I took a sip of my drink, buying myself a few seconds.
Fuck. I didn’t know her. I needed to be ***********ive about what I shared with her until she earned my trust.
“We were supposed to meet earlier… a couple of weeks ago,” I finally said.
She flushed. “Yeah…”
“You canceled because of all the shit happening in my life, right? All the bad press?”
“Yeah,” she repeated. “I thought it was best to keep my distance. My career’s starting to take off, and I was afraid being tied to so much negative attention would hurt it.”
“What made you change your mind?”
She thought for a moment. “I really want to make this movie. I think there’s something there… especially since it’s about one of the most interesting people in the world in recent history.”
She glanced at Charity. “So, I reached out to her, she talked to Erin, and… they explained everything to me.”
“And you changed your mind just like that?”
Color rose in her cheeks.
I jumped to reassure her. “Oh, don’t worry! I’m not blaming you! I’m just trying to understand you a little more.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not the careless, thoughtless loser a lot of the media makes you out to be.”
“Careful, Ms. Titus. That might be the nicest thing anyone’s said to me this week.” I lifted my glass in a toast and took another sip.
Her smile—God. She’d been pretty before, but when she smiled like that…
“Okay,” I said as I put my drink back down. “I think we can help each other.”
“How?”
“You tell a really good fucking story—my story. But the villain needs to be someone specific.”
“Well, considering I don’t know who the villain is, I can work with that.”
“Good. I want the villain to be Hiro Tanaka.”
Her smile vanished. “I can’t… I can’t make a real person the villain.”
“Of course not,” I agreed. “I’m not asking you to get sued. I want a villain who resembles him enough that anyone with half a brain can connect the dots, but different enough to give us plausible deniability.”
She looked uneasy. “I don’t know if I can do that. Isn’t he involved in, like… half the entertainment industry?”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m starting my own studio—fully funded by me and run by people who work for me.”
Karly frowned. “Don’t you already have… like, four?”
“Through VistaVision, yeah, but imagine working with just me… no shareholders. No outside producers, but with all the benefits that a company like VistaVision has—think distribution and marketing. Of course, I’d like to buy out anyone who might have the rights to this film and make sure that we’re equal partners in this.”
Her eyes widened.
“Then you get full control—well, almost full. I’m the only one you have to answer to, and from what I’ve heard so far, it sounds like our visions align pretty well, so chances are… I won’t.”
She chewed on her thumbnail as she studied me with those pretty hazel eyes, and Erin’s words floated through my mind.
…imagine escorting her down the red carpet to a movie premiere you made possible. Karly in a little red dress…
“Okay,” she finally said. “Let’s make a movie.”
***
Wednesday, October 2nd, 2:12 pm
The whine of the rotors dropped in pitch, indicating that the helicopter was shutting down. I did my best to swallow my nervousness while waiting for Chloe to open the door. As she did, I glanced at Charity.
“Thanks for arranging all of this. The drinks with Karly… and this.” I nodded out the window.
Charity beamed at me, flashing me her brilliant, perfect smile. “Are you kidding me? I just hope you’re happy with my work! This opportunity has been amazing!”
“So, no regrets about moving to New York?”
“Hell no,” Charity purred, unbuckling and climbing out of her seat, only to crawl into my lap. She cupped my face in her hands and pressed her plush lips to mine in a searing kiss. “I’m having the time of my life.”
“Good,” I said and spent a few moments making out with her before the sound of Chloe clearing her throat interrupted us.
While we’d been distracted, my bodyguard had slid open the door and was standing on the ground staring at us from behind her dark glasses.
My head of PR slid off my lap with a mock sigh. “I guess it's back to work.”
She stepped out of the helicopter as I unfastened my own belt and followed suit. I made a face at Chloe while Charity’s back was turned and muttered at her as I descended the helicopter. “You know, if you want to give it a shot…”
“Finish that sentence,” Chloe growled under her breath, “And I’ll drown you in your own blood.”
I chuckled and turned to see Charity already ten feet ahead of us, leading the way.
“This isn’t a little too weird? Being out on a yacht in October?” I called out as we walked away from the chopper's ruckus.
Charity turned around and continued to walk backwards. “No! Not at all! Not when you see the setup!”
Chloe and I glanced at each other and then followed the young woman.
I ran my hand along the sleek paneling of The King’s Quest. It was the yacht I’d rented for two days, already impressed with the craft. From the helipad, the deck unfurled cleanly beneath me—teak underfoot, dark railings, and chrome details gleaming in the early afternoon light. The air carried a trace of salt and citrus from the custom atomizers woven into the deck vents—engineered to add a subtle, pleasant aroma to complement the natural aromas.
As we moved toward the front of the ship, the sound shifted. Slow, rhythmic music pulsed beneath the breeze.
We came to a balcony that surrounded a depression in the middle—a pool and deck that was already occupied, steam rising in a thin veil from the heated water. Loungers framed the perimeter, each one draped in linen… some occupied. Legs crossed and backs arched—there were maybe twenty young, lithe, and exquisite. A few of them looked up as I passed. Their beautiful faces looked up at me with curiosity, flirtatious smiles angling for any kind of attention from me.
“Just look at them… starving for anything you have to give.”
The venom from Charity was uncharacteristic, and I looked toward her, expecting to see her watching the woman alongside me. Instead, she was looking in the opposite direction—out to sea.
Turning, I held up a hand to shield my eyes from the sun as I peered out at the blue-green water to see a handful of small boats in the middle distance. It took me a moment to realize that some of them were encircling the Quest.
“Paparazzi?” I asked, looking at Charity.
“Yep.”
“How did they get out here so quickly?”
Charity smirked as she side-eyed me. “You wanted a positive opinion.”
“I doubt this is going to do it. It’ll just make people think I’m a douche.”
She shrugged. “Some, maybe, but you’re doing a lot of good and we’re working around the clock to find ways of battling the bad press. You can help veterans, save animal shelters, and kiss babies till you’re blue in the face, but if you don’t offset it with something that feels real, then it’s all just going to look staged.”
I hiked my thumb over my shoulder at the dance team lounging on my rented yacht. “And that’ll look real to them?”
“You’re already starting to get a reputation as a guy who enjoys women. It’ll look authentic.” She looked back out at the ocean and waved. “Smile for the camera!”
“What are we talking about over here?” someone purred. I turned to see Rose’s slender form walk over to me with the catlike grace that only years of dancing could grant.
Leaning against the wall, I took the beer she offered me and then the kiss as she pressed her lean body against mine.
Her hair was up in a simple ponytail, and she wore a sheer robe tied loosely at the waist. Underneath was a black bikini that did a passing job of hiding her small assets. Her fingernails raked lightly down my chest as we exchanged enthusiastic kisses before she began fiddling with my buttons, undoing the top three so she could slip a hand inside to slide them across my bare chest.
“The paparazzi,” Charity said, answering Rose’s question.
Rose broke the kiss, gave my nose a peck, and then looked over my shoulder out at the ocean. “Ah… yeah. They’ve been out here for about thirty minutes. They have enough photos by now to publish their own Sports Illustrated.”
She then parted and turned her attention to the much shorter and younger woman. “You joining us, Char-Bear?”
Charity grinned. “Later, maybe. I have some things to take care of first.”
“Mm… can’t wait. You go ahead… I’ll take our man from here.”
Rose and Charity exchanged a lingering kiss before Charity left the two of us alone.
“So… care to fill me in on who the ladies are?” I asked.
Wrapping her arms around mine, Rose leaned against me, resting her head on my shoulder in a very intimate sort of way. She pointed to a tall, willowy blonde with ashen hair knotted on top of her head who was sitting at the pool’s edge. “That’s Natashya’s friend, Iryna. She’s from Ukraine. She’s the captain… or whatever the leader of a dance team is.”
She pointed to another girl with olive skin, wild hair that fell to the middle of her back in tight black ringlets. “That’s Milena. She’s fun.”
“That pretty little thing,” she said, indicating a short young woman with a compact, athletic body and black hair cut into a cute little bob. “She seems like a bitch, but I think she’s just shy.”
“That’s a lot of tattoos,” I pointed out, eying the sleeve that went from her ankle all the way to her thigh and the half-sleeve that started on the opposite arm and went from elbow to shoulder. “I didn’t think that kind of thing was allowed in professional dance.”
“Mm,” Rose hummed. “I think they’ve relaxed their standards a bit in the last few years—stage makeup and strategic uniforms do wonders. If the girl’s talented enough…”
I glanced over my shoulder at the boats still encircling mine, then said, “Well, how about you introduce me?”
“Honey,” Rose said, squeezing my arm tight as she flashed me a brilliant smile, “You don’t need an introduction. They know who you are. You basically bought them.”
“What does that mean?”
“Their troupe. You sponsored them for like… the next year.” She looked up through her lashes and poked out her bottom lip. “Wish you’d sponsor me and my girls like that.”
The two of us left the boat railing and descended toward the heated pool to join the ladies. “You mean you want me to basically pay for a year’s worth of lap dances for you and your friends?”
“Or just buy the Starlight,” Rose said as she waved at one of the girls she hadn’t named. “Viktor’s looking to get out anyway. You could buy his part and be a new partner.”
“Hm,” I mused as three of the girls waved us over with dashing smiles and giggles. “I’ll think about it.”
I wish I could say that I kept my focus on the real task at hand, but I’d be lying. After all, it’s a difficult thing to do when you have fifteen professional dancers and two strippers vying for your company.
Natashya was there, yet no Emily due to rehearsals. As insecure as my sister could be, I could only imagine how unhappy she was that her girlfriend was surrounded by more than a dozen stunning women and the man she’d been fucking up until the moment they’d started a relationship. I wouldn’t have blamed Emily in the slightest.
Melina and Leonie were particularly charming—the latter having a modelesque stature, strawberry blonde hair, fair skin, and a light dusting of freckles across her nose and shoulders. It didn’t help that both of them made several overt suggestions of how they would love to show their gratitude for being such a generous patron.
I didn’t get as much overt flirtation from Iryna, but her English was flawless, her accent cute, and we ended up having a lot in common. Something told me that I could have asked her out on a real date, and she would have said yes.
And of course, the air was thick with flirtation and fun, which Natashya bathed in. She enjoyed her drinks and brief caresses with some of the other girls.
And the looks she was giving me from across the pool? They reminded me of what it was like to touch her… to feel her soft breasts under my palm and her fevered lips on my skin. Natashya was wild and earthy in ways that were hard to match. She had a unique charm that often drew my eyes and my imagination.
Which meant that it was imperative that I stay as far away from that sexy Eastern European hippie as possible, because the last thing I needed to do was sleep with my sister’s girlfriend.
After about half an hour of flirtation and drinks with the ladies, which ended up with me in the pool, I ended up sneaking off with Rose for a quick fuck. Melina and Leonie wanted to come with us, but I had to give them a rain check—I just didn’t have time for a foursome.
But ten minutes and three orgasms later, I left Rose in one of the bedrooms, completely spent with a large load of my cum leaking out of her. She muttered something that sounded like a farewell as I slipped out the door…
And ran into Erin leaning against the wall.
“Oh… hey!” I said as I shut the door behind me.
My assistant looked up from her phone and tried to peer into the room just as I sealed it shut. Her expression was a little strained. “I came to see how much longer you’d be. Natashya said you’d be down here. Who’d you bang?”
“Uh… Rose?”
Her gaze flicked back to me, and she looked like she wanted to tell me something, but instead she simply said, “Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”
Erin led me to the yacht’s conference room, where I found the real reason I was here.
Vikram, Helen, Chandler, Chloe, Henry, and Charity were gathered around a large table made from some rich, grainy, light-stained wood.
Helen was sitting at the other end—Vikram next to her. Chloe was leaning against the wall just behind Helen with her customary arms crossed over her chest. Chandler was sitting on the other side of Helen, glancing around at everyone a little nervously. Psalter sat next to Vikram, his hands steepled as he watched me walk in with a contemplative look in his eyes. Charity sat across from him, typing away at a laptop and ignoring everyone, the tip of her tongue peeking from between her lips.
Erin walked past me and took a seat opposite Charity, leaving the end of the table opposite Helen free for me.
“Hey guys,” I said, looking around at the small team I’d assembled. “Thanks for being here today.”
“Chandler has filled us in, Marcus,” Helen said, looking a lot less like my collared lover and more like a boardroom CEO who had just called me to the carpet.
“Cool,” I said, taking a seat, trying not to look as on edge as I felt. “Tell me how we do it.”
She didn’t look amused. “Marcus.”
“What, Helen? You’re the experts. It’s why I pay you all so well.”
“You don’t pay us to work miracles.”
“That’s exactly what I pay you for, and that’s what I want.”
Chandler raised his hand. “I think what Mrs. VanCamp is trying to say is that what you are asking requires an immense number of resources and coordination. It will take a lot of time, effort, and money to undertake this sort of endeavor.”
“You read me the riot act on Friday, Chandler.”
“You want to poison VistaVision and sell it to the Tanakas. Hiro’s people are going to do due diligence, sir,” Vikram said. “There will be audits, reviews, inspections… valuations. There will be people with years of experience in acquisitions looking for exactly the kinds of things you’re asking.”
“Tanaka’s a shrewd businessman,” Helen said. “If he even suspects what you’re trying to do, there will be an all-out war.”
“There’s already a war,” I said. “So, I don’t see the downside.”
Helen looked genuinely annoyed and started to repeat my words. “You don’t see—”
She stopped herself and then half stood out of her seat, leaning over the table. “Marcus, do you think he’s even remotely done?”
“I don’t care,” I said. “He’s not going to get the chance to do any more.”
“What you’re asking is impossible.”
Chandler gave Helen a skeptical look. “Well… not impossible.”
“Create enough of a sense of urgency and I’m sure they’ll cut plenty of corners. A rush job gets sloppy one hundred percent of the time,” Erin chimed in.
“Even if you managed to outsmart the army of lawyers and CPAs Hiro will have,” Vikram said, “None of it will hold up once he takes you to court and sues you for damages.”
“He entrusted some of his most valuable shares to his wife, who stabbed him in the back,” I pointed out. “He’s more fallible than you give him credit for.”
“Marcus!”
I stood up. “Mrs. VanCamp!”
She didn’t respond.
“I understand the hesitation. I do. But Chandler and Psalter both assure me—risky or not, this is doable. It’s what we’re doing.” I pointed a finger at Helen. “You’re doing this.”
There was no raising my voice. I didn’t need to. The very idea I was trying to convey was enough to keep them silent.
“Unless someone has a better idea?” I paused, letting a little more of my conviction creep in. “I could have Hiro killed. Maybe that works… maybe it doesn’t. Even if it does, I still have Sachiko to contend with. She’s smarter than her dad, so there might be a chance we can get her to back off. Even then, Rajesh taught me something: there’s always someone else looking to become the bigger fish. Another name, another heir, another lunatic with too much money and not enough fear.”
I leaned forward. “This isn’t just about ending the Tanakas. It’s about ending the idea that anyone can touch what’s mine. I want them afraid—not of guns… not of bodies. I want them to be afraid of loss. Of humiliation. I want to gut them where it hurts—their money.”
I looked around the table at each one of my people: brilliant, lethal, and loyal in their own way.
“I don’t have the blueprint. That’s why I hired you. If you don’t have the answer, I guarantee someone on your team does. Use them.”
Still more silence.
“We won’t survive a long war with Tanaka. He’s too rich, too stubborn to quit, and he doesn’t care about what anyone else loses. He’ll bleed us dry until the world eventually decides both of us are the problem.”
I exhaled slowly. “So, we’re going to give him a gift. A dream deal that’s too good to ignore but infested with all kinds of crap. Shell companies, IP offloading, incompetent employees, bad deals executed after the sale, time-released rumors… all the fun things this guy was telling me about on Friday.” I pointed to Chandler.
Everyone at the table slowly turned to look at the CEO of VistaVision.
Chandler looked abashed. “Marcus simply asked me questions. I answered them. That’s my job.”
I went on before anyone could derail my point. “I want a VistaVision-shaped bomb that goes off in his face, and when it does, I want it to cripple him to the point where he can’t even think about retaliation. I want the Tanakas unrecognizable after it’s over. We’re effectively killing them.”
A full ten seconds passed.
“Jesus, Marcus,” Vikram finally muttered.
I understood Vikram’s unease. We were going to try to pull off one of the biggest con jobs in history. He had every right to be on edge.
And Helen was right—there was so much that could go wrong.
“Vikram, if you don’t want to participate, you’re free to leave YPV. No hard feelings. You’ll get the most glowing recommendation you’ve ever seen.”
I had Vikram’s full attention. “But if you’re in, I need full commitment from you. I know how risky this is, and I can’t have half measures.”
What I didn’t say was that he’d have a glowing recommendation after the deal was finalized. I couldn’t exactly risk him spoiling my surprise. He would have to spend time as Ryo’s neighbor before getting that fresh start.
Not wanting to keep looking Vikram in the eyes, I turned my attention to Erin and asked, “How long does it generally take for a deal this big?”
“Easily a year… maybe longer.”
“You suggested a sense of urgency to speed up the time?”
Erin nodded. “We could create competition… suggest that he’s not the only one interested in buying it.”
“Wouldn’t that undermine one of the reasons I’m selling it to Hiro in the first place?”
“VistaVision is bigger than you,” Erin said. “A chance at that much controlling interest at a fraction of the cost? The threat of that slipping through his fingers… he’s not going to remember why you made that deal in the first place. The only thing they’ll see is a race to the finish line.”
She had a point, and I could see Hiro reacting exactly that way. “I’d need someone who could actually be a threat for something like that, right?”
Erin nodded.
I glanced at Vikram and Helen.
Vikram simply shook his head.
“Which would you prefer, Marcus?” Helen asked. “Potentially trick someone into buying a sabotaged company, making another powerful enemy? Or perhaps trust a practical stranger with the intimate details of your elaborate scheme?”
Fuck… she was right. I wasn’t close enough to other people of extreme wealth. I couldn’t trust any of them to help me pull something like this off, and if they were too enthusiastic, they might either buy my bomb or raise suspicion of their own.
“What about Brantwood?” Chandler asked.
“What?” I asked, incredulous.
“Hey, wait,” Erin said. “That’s not a bad idea. Getting the two of them at each other’s throats could work to our advantage. Amber’s already tried to make a deal for more of VistaVision.”
“I don’t know…” I hesitated. Something had been bothering me since I found those images of Amber and Carla hanging out. “What if Brantwood and Tanaka are working together?”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Erin said. “Why would they make an offer behind Tanaka’s back if they were working with him?”
“Because squeezing me from both sides sounds like a pretty effective tactic to get me to sell a bunch of my shares,” I said. “Kind of like playing ‘bad cop, worse cop.’”
Maybe I was being paranoid, but if it turned out that they were in bed together, trying to pit the two against each other would likely ruin everything. Besides… trusting Brantwood meant that I would have to trust Amber Bell, and I would rather crawl backwards through a woodchipper than do that.
“What about Wayne Prudem?” I asked Chandler. Prudem had been our ally at the original board meeting.
Chandler’s mouth tightened. “Not nearly wealthy enough for anything like that, I’m afraid.”
“The other Gerrards?” Charity asked, finally looking up from her laptop. “Your brother and your aunt are wealthy, right?”
“I doubt they would have enough capital between them to be a real threat against someone like Tanaka.”
Getting a look from me, he continued, “You have to understand, the rest of your family received a pittance compared to you. It might have been millions, but that’s hardly comparable to your inheritance. Much of their wealth is likely in assets anyway.”
“There’s Astrid Håkansson,” Charity said.
“No!” Chloe, Erin, and I all said at the same time.
Charity whipped her head around to look at all three of us, blinking. “Wow. Message received.”
“Fuck… okay. We’ll brainstorm it a little more.” I glanced back at Erin. “What would an expedited timeline look like?”
“Optimistically… four months?” She looked to Helen for confirmation. My lawyer simply nodded.
“Fuck… four months?”
So much could happen in four months.
Erin looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown another head. “What timeline were you thinking?”
“A week?”
She tittered. “I wish.”
“You’ve got to do better than four months, Erin.”
“Fund the efforts,” Psalter finally spoke up, “and I could probably reduce the time to a month. Possibly slightly less.”
“How the fuck are you going to manage that!?” Helen asked.
“Look into the Dullahan Group sometime. That aside, I’ve always found ignorance where knowledge isn’t necessary to be quite effective,” Psalter said.
In other words: Don’t ask questions.
Helen seemed to respect that answer.
“Cool,” I said as I backed away from the table. “I want to see an actionable plan in four hours.”
Helen looked at me once again like I was asking for the impossible, but at least she wasn’t arguing with me anymore.
“Why are we all the way out here?” Vikram asked.
“Because there’s no telling which places have listening devices,” I said. “And it’s possible that someone in my own damn house is working for Hiro. My trust is in short supply right now. This is a sensitive project that literally no one outside this room can know about. The girls on the deck are here to provide cover.”
I fixed my gaze on Chandler. “No one gets to know what anyone else at VistaVision is doing. Everything has to be siloed, compartmentalized, and discreet. That goes for pretty much everything else.”
“I have so many reservations,” he said.
“You and everyone else in this room. Make a list.” I turned and started toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Vikram asked.
“To keep up appearances,” I said, glancing at the ceiling where the dance troupe was enjoying themselves around a heated pool. Honestly, I didn’t belong in here with the braintrust. I’d made my wishes known… now it was time to get out of the way and let them earn their paychecks.
Vikram looked stricken with jealousy.
I gave him a sardonic smile—one part envy, two parts regret.
Hey, Vikram… trade places with you right now: your hot influencer girlfriend for Detective Reynolds.