Marcus, Natalie, and Erin dress for a decadent night.
Sachiko had been lovely before, but holy shit.
The only thing keeping my brain from frying was the sudden surge of fight-or-flight. A Tanaka appearing without warning set off every alarm in my body. I didn’t see the delicate, sharp angles of her fox-like features. I barely noticed the way her skirt hugged her hips, showing just enough shape to tease.
All I saw was a threat.
Erin must have sensed my trepidation—she’d already taken a few steps back. I grabbed Natalie’s hand and did the same.
“Nope!” I said. “I’m out.”
At the same time, Sachiko narrowed her eyes, one hand bracing against the limo like she was ready to bolt.
“What’s he doing here?” she blurted.
My bodyguards stepped in front of me, still, silent, and non-threatening in a way that suggested they were ready to draw weapons if anyone breathed wrong.
“You didn’t know?” I asked Sachiko,
“What is this?” she asked at the exact same time.
Astrid was failing to suppress her delight as she stepped between us, hands raised.
“Easy, you two,” she said. “I thought we were all friends.”
“You thought wrong,” Sachiko snapped, her eyes locked on me. Her glare felt like a dagger tip at my throat.
“It’s a business transaction, Astrid,” I said. “We’re not starting a book club.”
“This is nonsense,” Astrid said, waving both of us off. “You’ve ceased hostilities. There’s no reason you can’t attend the same party.”
“He’s holding my brother hostage,” Sachiko hissed.
“He literally tried to kill me!” I shot back. “I’m not the bad guy here!”
“You cut off his finger and used it as some kind of message! How is that not villain behavior?”
“Marcus?” Natalie said, panic creeping into her voice.
Astrid turned to Sachiko and stepped toward her. “Need I remind you, dear, that Marcus wasn’t your brother’s only target?”
Whatever Sachiko’s reply, it was just a little too low for me to hear, and as Astrid advanced on her, their conversation grew even quieter.
“We should head back to the chopper,” Jon said.
“Maybe,” I muttered. “Just give it a minute. I want to hear her out.”
A few more words passed between them. Then Astrid turned and approached me, her hands deliberately visible for my bodyguards’ benefit. She wasn’t intimidated by them, but she knew better than to act carelessly when things were this tense. She stopped a few feet away, peering at me through the wall of muscle like I was behind a pair of stone pillars.
“Sachiko says she is willing to put aside your differences for tonight, but she needs your word that you will keep the peace.”
I glared at her. “You really expect me to believe she didn’t know I was coming?”
“It’s the truth.”
I peered around John’s hulking form to see Sachiko, standing there with arms crossed. She spotted me and gave me a sour smile. She’d never been openly hostile like this toward me—cool and distant, but professional.
Maybe my appearance had surprised her.
“It’s okay, guys,” I said, placing a hand on each of my bodyguards’ arms.
Jon glanced at me, but then they both stepped just wide enough to give me a clear view of Astrid.
“You invited both of us?” I asked Astrid. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because neither of you would’ve come,” she replied, and I could hear the silent ‘duh’ at the end, as if my question couldn’t have been more stupid.
“I didn’t know you guys were close,” I said.
“We’re not,” Astrid said, “but Sachiko has never been to this party, and it’s a wonderful opportunity to meet powerful people. Plus, the Tanakas know how close you and I are, especially after our near-death experience. She obviously sees this as an opportunity to keep me close, to make sure that I do not interfere with your precious deal.”
Which made sense. Erin had warned me that Astrid might have that effect.
“Okay,” I said. “But I’m about a second away from turning around and leaving. What’s stopping me?”
Astrid rolled her eyes. “God, Marcus… why wouldn’t you want to go to an exclusive party that people would kill to be invited to? One where you could make connections that would change your life?”
“Because I can’t bring my emotional support bodyguards, and I don’t know if you’ve read the headlines lately, but I’m not about to win any popularity contests.”
“I know you’ve already had someone look into this party and the Wyns. If they hadn’t told you that it was safe, you wouldn’t have come this far. Besides, I don’t feel the need for protection.”
“Yeah,” I said, “but you’re insane.”
She laughed, light and carefree, like I’d just told a funny anecdote and not just insulted her mental stability.
“Marcus,” she said sweetly, “if you don’t come with us, I’ll have Sachiko to myself for the entire evening. Who knows where the conversation might lead? I’d hate to say something that might sour your already precarious relationship with her and jeopardize your deal.”
I studied her, trying to decide whether she actually knew anything about my plans for VistaVision and the Tanakas, or if she was just letting me know she could complicate matters.
“Blackmail? That’s supposed to make me feel better about this?”
“Consider it an incentive,” Astrid said with a smile. “Who knows… maybe the three of us will get along well tonight and decide to go into a relationship together.”
Natalie squeezed my hand.
Astrid must have noticed a shift in her posture because she quickly added, “A business relationship, of course.”
I glanced at Natalie, who might have appeared to be doing well to an outsider, but I detected her lingering unease. She was chewing the inside of her cheek, her tell that meant something was bothering her.
I looked at Erin, who did a much better job of looking unaffected by the conversation as she stared at the approaching ship, which was slowing as it neared the docks.
“Can you give me a few moments?” I asked Astrid.
She nodded.
I retreated a few feet, tugging Natalie with me. Erin turned and followed. My bodyguards remained where they were.
“Well?” I asked the ladies.
“As far as I can tell,” Erin said, “she’s being honest. Sachiko looked just as surprised as you. And she’s right… this party’s secure. I’ve never heard of guests going missing or turning up dead. If anything, the security is supposed to be top-notch. If Sachiko hadn’t reacted the way she did, I’d be worried, but as it stands… I think it’s safe.”
“Physically safe, but that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous,” I pointed out.
“I mean… yeah,” Erin admitted, “but there’s always some risk when you’re playing the game at this level. If you want to build something great, you’re going to have to get your hands dirty.”
Looking toward the shore, I watched as the ship glided into place beside the dock. People were already gathering… some preparing to board, others just mingling—patrons of the arts, power brokers in politics, journalism, business, and every other form of cultural capital. The kind of people who never made headlines or appeared on television, yet pulled strings that shaped the world.
Erin continued, “Even after all the hits you’ve taken, you’re still worth more than most of them combined, boss, but money only gets you so far. You've isolated yourself from the rest of wealthy society. These people? They know people who know people. You’ll have a chance to share your story with them, and if you change their minds, they can change the hearts and minds of millions.
She paused, watching the people down at the dock with me, then added, “Astrid might be holding this deal over your head now. But if you meet the right person tonight, that might not even matter. There are more players than the Tanakas and Håkanssons. You just haven’t met them yet.”
So, Erin was all in.
“Natalie?”
She glanced back at Astrid and sighed. “I just wanted a nice night at a bougie party with my boyfriend.”
“Hey,” Erin said, taking Natalie’s other hand. She gave it a squeeze. “You’re with me, Nat, and if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s taking situations like this and spinning them into gold. Let’s go in there and make some friends. There’s enough wit, charm, and sexiness between the three of us that by the end of the night, they’ll be eating out of our hands.”
Natalie bit her lip, trying and failing to suppress a smile.
Hell, even I felt better.
And she was right. I needed to take some risks. After fucking up so badly with the Tanakas, getting iced out by the Gerrards, and being globally smeared as a walking disaster, I needed more powerful allies.
If it had been anyone other than Natalie by my side, I wouldn’t have been as worried. She was clever and resourceful, but this was a completely different experience. I was afraid it might eat her alive.
Damn Astrid for insisting that I bring her.
Natalie looked back at me, her gaze lingering on me for a long moment. Then she said, “Okay.”
Erin grinned and squeezed her hand, then looked back at me. “Boss?”
My eyes stayed with Natalie for a long, silent moment, making absolutely sure she meant it when she said she was okay with moving ahead.
Then I sighed and said, “Okay.”
“Fuck, yes!” Erin said.
I turned and made my way back to Astrid.
“They’re starting to board,” she said, a touch of impatience in her voice.
“We’re coming,” I said.
Astrid broke into a wide smile, transforming in an instant from a conniving snake to the kind of girl next door you’d ask to watch your kids. It was uncanny how she could slip between masks.
“Splendid!” she said, then turned toward the limo and called out. “Lara?”
Another woman stepped out of the car, wearing an off-white sequined dress that left one shoulder bare. The skirt stopped just past her knees and had a split on one side that ran up her leg and ended halfway up her torso. The entire thing would have flapped open with a strong breeze had it not been cinched together at the waist with a matching belt. It still looked on the verge of showing more than it should.
Lara stood as tall as Astrid, but while her employer was willowy and lean, Lara was textbook femininity—an hourglass figure with full breasts, probably just a fraction smaller than Natalie’s, and an ass that could go toe-to-toe with my girlfriend’s. Raven-black hair spilled in loose waves down her back, making her cream complexion appear paler than it actually was. Her heavy eyeliner and deep crimson lipstick made the whole look seem like something out of a pin-up calendar.
Erin’s breath hitched the moment she saw Astrid’s attendant, and I couldn’t blame her.
“Marcus,” Astrid said, “you remember Lara. Lara, this is Marcus’s lovely girlfriend, Natalie, and their attendant, Erin.”
Lara’s light blue eyes scanned us, her smile warm and inviting in all the ways that made my blood run hot. I remembered how her hands felt during the massage she’d given me… soft enough to make me wonder how the rest of her might feel.
Get it together, Marcus. You’re about to drool on your girlfriend.
Sachiko stepped up next to them, keeping her distance as she eyed me.
“We should get going,” Astrid said, taking Lara’s hand. The two of them headed toward the dock, with Sachiko trailing behind them.
“Come on,” Erin murmured to Natalie, still clasping her hand. “I’ll fill you in a little more about Sachiko.”
Natalie looked up at me, silently looking for reassurance, her smile tinged with anxiety.
I released her hand. “Go ahead. I’m just gonna have a couple of words with the guys. I’ll be right behind you.”
Her smile grew a little more uneasy, but she nodded.
Erin spoke softly as they followed Astrid and the others. “So, Sachiko’s actually spent most of her time in…”
I stood by my bodyguards and watched as two of the women I cared about most trail out of earshot as they headed toward the docks. I took a moment to just… admire them.
“You sure about this?” Jon asked, interrupting my quiet moment.
“No,” I said, “but we’ve done about everything we can short of calling it off.”
I pulled a pen from my pocket and held it up. It wasn’t an ordinary pen; it had a small slider on the side. If necessary, I could flip it on and press the clicker; instead of exposing the nib, it would call the cavalry.
“If all goes well,” I continued, “this will be a boring night for you. Hope you brought a good book.”
“More of an audiobook guy,” Jon said, “but I have it.”
“You?” I asked, looking at John.
“Phone game,” he said.
“What game?”
He looked a little sheepish. “Pillager: Dark Heroes.”
I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t thought him the type to play games. I’d pegged him as the type to sit motionless for hours, optimizing his macro intake or tweaking his workout schedule.
“The ads got me,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “Not sure there’s anything to be embarrassed about.”
Jon smirked. “Ask him how much money he’s spent on it.”
“Do I want to know?”
“No, sir,” John said flatly.
I laughed. “Hey, man. We all have our distractions. Just… hope that’s all you’re doing tonight.”
“We’ll be here if you need anything, sir,” John said.
“Thanks,” I said, then I left to catch up to the girls.
As it turned out, I was right. The boat on the dock was there to take us on the twenty-five-minute journey to a small island owned by Nicholas and Aurelia Wyn. No tickets or QR codes were needed to get on. The large man standing beside the gangplank seemed to recognize everyone’s faces and let them on with a friendly greeting.
“Miss Hakkanson. Mr. Upton.” He touched the brim of his hat with a gloved hand big enough that I was sure he could grip a basketball in one hand. The man was huge and probably experienced more than ten different ways to immobilize a person, with or without a weapon. “Our hosts are looking forward to seeing you again,” he said to Astrid.
“Thank you,” Astrid said politely. “I can’t wait to see their new place.”
He looked at me. “And to meet you, Mr. Upton. Mr. Wynn wanted me to tell you that they were especially excited when they heard you were coming.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling well out of my element. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
He gave a slight nod of his head as I moved on, following Astrid up the gangplank and entering the interior to escape the cool night air—and was shocked
Never mind the party or the island. The journey to the island was an experience all its own.
The boat’s interior was a spacious, two-story affair. The lower level featured an expansive floor lined with large couches arranged in semicircles around low tables. A fully stocked bar anchored one side, six mixologists hard at work—shaking, stirring, and garnishing custom drinks for thirsty patrons.
Most of the guests were scattered across the space, mingling, laughing—almost all with colorful cocktails in hand.
What stood out most, though, was that about two-thirds of them were dressed in Roman or Greek garb.
Men and women wore traditional togas draped off one shoulder, while some opted for variations that wrapped around the neck, leaving backs and shoulders bare. Several of the men had gone shirtless, clothed only from the waist down in white cloth that hung to their shins.
Some of them, frankly, had no business being shirtless. Potbellies hung over their waistbands, confidence apparently unbothered by mirrors.
Others, especially the men, leaned into the warrior look—outfits that resembled Roman or maybe Greek soldiers. Some had breastplates in leather or metal. A couple even wore helmets with crests.
Not that I was an expert in ancient fashion, but the vibe was unmistakable. Leather skirts… sandals. It all looked authentic and high-quality to my untrained eye.
“Oh good!” Astrid said, delighted. “A toga party! And they’ve really upped their game from the last time they did this. These costumes are stunning.”
“You told us we needed to dress nice,” I said, eyes drifting up to the second floor, where most of the costume changes were happening. “Why bother if we’re just going to change again?”
“First impressions, darling,” Astrid said, giving me a smirk and a little wink as she grabbed Sachiko’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “Come!”
From the look on Natalie’s face, any lingering doubts had evaporated. Her eyes were wide with awe as she took it all in.
She’d been floored by the orchestra stunt—but this? This was another level. A deeper plunge into my world… with a much different flavor.
I reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You good?”
“Oh my god… Marcus,” she whispered. “This is… amazing.”
Erin appeared beside her, nudging her arm. “Want to go put on a costume?”
Natalie grinned. “Yes.”
Erin took her hand and led her across the room, trailing behind Astrid and Sachiko.
Which left me with Lara.
“Hey again,” I said.
Her smile could’ve made a priest reconsider his vows. “Hello, Marcus. It’s good to see you again.”
I blushed. Couldn’t help it. Last time I’d seen her, she’d had my dick in her hand—and the way she was smiling now suggested she wouldn’t mind doing it again.
“Yeah… you too.” I glanced over her body. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”
Her smile deepened. Those bright blue eyes, framed by thick dark lashes, warmed me straight to the core. “Thank you. Hopefully, I’ll find a costume just as lovely… so you can keep enjoying me the rest of the evening.”
“I, uh… think I’ll have plenty to enjoy,” I said. “With my girlfriend, I mean.”
Jesus. I sounded like a high school virgin. I really needed to get over this awkwardness around Natalie.
Maybe Erin could help.
“She’s welcome to enjoy me too,” Lara said, slipping her arm through mine as we followed the others.
“Have you been to one of these before?” I asked.
“I’ve never been to this party,” Lara said. “I don’t know what to expect.”
“Me either,” I said, glancing back at her.
Her expression sobered. She glanced around the room, making sure no one was in earshot, then met my eyes again.
“Mr. Upton,” she said, suddenly formal. “Astrid asked me to deliver a message: you are to participate in tonight’s events—no matter what they are.”
My heart skipped.
I slowed, turning to face her. “What?”
“I’m just the messenger. She thought she might be too busy to tell you herself.”
“What kind of events?” I asked, letting go of her arm.
Lara shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to one of these. But Astrid said she would be disappointed to waste an invitation on someone so boring they wouldn’t participate.”
She paused, then added with a perfectly polite smile: “And she mentioned that she gets… talkative when she’s disappointed.”
I glanced around at the party-goers, trying to decide how to react. Obviously, I needed more information, and I didn’t want to upset anyone unnecessarily… especially Natalie and Sachiko. Natalie just wanted to have a good time, while the last thing I needed was Sachiko asking questions.
Erin needed to know, though.
“Okay,” I said, giving Lara back my arm. “Thanks.”
“Are you furious with me?” she asked as she took my arm again.
“No,” I said as we continued toward the stairs. “Like you said, you’re just the messenger.”
With Lara this close, weaving through the crowd beside me, I caught the scent of spicy honeysuckle laced with something deeper, like sandalwood. Her dark crimson fingernails brushed lightly along my forearm, reminding me that she was more than just arm candy.
I started wondering how open Natalie might be to a little… experimentation. Because ignoring my attraction to Lara was getting harder by the minute.
And it wasn’t just her.
Even Sachiko, for all her hostility, was hard to ignore.
By the time we reached the second floor, three of the women were already waiting.
Sachiko was deep in conversation with a slender, bald man who was enthusiastically offering wardrobe advice.
“Oh, honey! The off-the-shoulder look is so traditional,” he said. “But with your posture and that figure? Girl… you would absolutely kill in one of these!”
I gave Natalie and Erin a questioning look.
“We’re waiting for a private room to open so we can try on costumes,” Natalie explained.
Her eyes flicked to where Lara’s arm was still looped through mine.
I couldn’t tell if she’d just noticed or if she was feeling a certain way about it.
I decided not to risk it and gently disentangled from Lara as I stepped toward my girlfriend.
“Cool,” I said. “Do you know what you want to wear?”
Her eyes met mine, unreadable. They lingered for a beat, then she turned back to the rows of costumes.
“God, I have no idea.”
“Monsieur.” A clean-cut man, much less flamboyant than the bald one, approached me. “We have a room available, if you and your party would like to change.”
The room turned out to be a massive walk-in closet. For the next few minutes, the girls dove into every piece of fabric they could get their hands on, debating, giggling, and throwing costume suggestions back and forth.
Meanwhile, I took one look around and decided on something that looked like a Roman centurion’s outfit—breastplate, helmet, the whole deal.
Both Erin and Astrid vetoed it immediately.
“You should wear something shirtless,” Astrid said, rifling through togas. “You’re one of the more fit men here. You should be proud of that.”
“Close!” Erin said, then held up… straps. Just straps. “But maybe something like this?”
“What the fuck is that?” I asked, stepping closer. “Is that supposed to be… slave attire?”
Erin grinned and nodded. “You’d look so hot in this.”
“What about this?” Natalie said, holding up a leather skirt with matching sandals—something vaguely Spartan.
“Sold!” Erin announced, dropping her find.
Astrid weighed the choice and then nodded in approval.
Then they all stared at me, waiting for me to say something.
“Um,” I said. “I guess I can wear this?”
They were still staring.
I looked around. “Wait—am I supposed to change in here?”
“We all are,” Astrid said.
“How about no?”
“It’s fine, Marcus,” Natalie said, biting her lip as she watched me. “You’re just getting changed.”
I glanced at Lara. She was lounging on a couch—this was apparently a closet with couches—fingering a piece of fabric while watching me with interest. Sachiko, who had been browsing, was also watching.
I thought about telling Astrid to turn around or something, but my date didn’t seem to really mind the audience, and I wondered if Natalie was low-key enjoying the fact that her boyfriend was getting so much attention… as if she were showing off some sort of prize.
So, since no one seemed to have an issue with it, I shrugged off my shirt.
A few moments later, I was decked out in a leather-and-steel-studded skirt while Erin knelt to fasten my sandals. The design required me to ditch my underwear, which meant… well, there was no hiding anything.
No one else had changed during the entire process, and Astrid’s cool blue eyes were fixed on my cock the entire time. One brow arched when she saw it was already half-hard. Lara was just as brazen.
Sachiko pretended to browse, but it was a lazy act. She kept sneaking glances when she thought I wouldn’t notice.
And as I stood in front of the mirror, checking the costume out, I hated to admit that Astrid was right about showing off a little.
I’d put in a lot of work over the last few months. I wasn’t ready to headline a superhero movie, but my stomach was flat, the love handles were gone, and my chest, shoulders, and arms had actual definition. Even faint lines across my abdomen were starting to show.
Not bad, I thought to myself. Not bad at all.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Erin’s dark gaze drifted up and down me. Natalie let out an appreciative whistle, looking particularly pleased with her ***********ion. Astrid watched me like a wolf eyeing a steak.
Sachiko tried to ignore me—emphasis on tried.
“Good job, Natalie,” Astrid purred. “He’s going to be one of the best-looking men there. Top three… easily.”
“I think my man’s at the very top,” Natalie said with a grin. “If I might be so bold.”
Now that the moment had passed, Astrid shed her tuxedo jacket, letting it drop to the floor as she began unbuttoning her shirt… no bra underneath.
It made sense. Astrid wasn’t exactly gifted in the tits department. She hardly needed the support, and with the jacket, there hadn’t been much risk of showing off her nipples.
Except now I was seeing nipples. Astrid’s. Pale pink dollops topping breasts that wouldn’t quite fill my palms.
Still self-conscious about my girlfriend being in the room while another woman casually stripped in front of me, I suffered a knee-jerk reaction and turned my back on Astrid…
And saw Lara.
She was standing behind Natalie, also topless. Her creamy breasts were fuller than Astrid’s—almost as big as Natalie’s—and tipped with the same soft pink.
Natalie caught my eye and smiled, soft and sweet—I think she realized that I’d turned away from Astrid for her sake.
Then she followed my gaze over her shoulder to where Lara stood.
“Oh…” she murmured.
She looked back at me, biting her lip—not angry, but a little uneasy.
Honestly, I didn’t know why I felt so weird about it. Natalie and I weren’t exclusive—we both knew that. I’d been screwing around like I had to repopulate the species. But now, standing next to her, watching beautiful women strip down around us, I was blushing like a schoolboy seeing his first pair of tits.
“I’m not changing in front of him,” Sachiko said flatly.
“Oh, Sachiko,” Astrid sighed. “Could you please try not to kill the mood every five minutes?”
“No,” I said, already turning away. Whatever temptation there might’ve been in watching Sachiko undress, the awkwardness was stronger. “It’s cool. I think I’ll grab a drink at the bar while you guys finish up.”
“Oooh! That sounds perfect,” Erin said, rattling off her drink order. Natalie followed suit.
Astrid, looking mildly annoyed that I was leaving, gave me drink orders for both herself and Lara.
Sachiko didn’t ask for anything.
“We’ll be down in a few,” Erin said.
With that, I stepped out of the closet and onto the second floor.
“Oh! My! God!” gasped the lean, bald man who’d been helping Sachiko. He slapped a hand to his chest. “Stop. You’re going to give me a heart attack!”
I blinked. “Uh…”
“Does your wife know you’re about to turn every head in this place? Women, men… possibly even a few statues?”
“I’m not married,” I said. “My girlfriend picked it out for me.”
“God! She sounds like she’s got a pair on her.” He leaned in. “If you were my boyfriend, I wouldn’t let you leave the bedroom looking like that. Which one is she?”
“Natalie. The, uh… the black one?”
“Oh, good for you! She’s gorgeous. But honestly, all of them are.” He winked. “Well, if you ever get curious about the other side…”
He waggled his eyebrows at me. I suddenly felt like I needed to call for an adult.
“I’m kidding!” he said, tapping my arm with the back of his hand. “You breeders are all so easy!”
Then his attention snagged on someone else. “Oh! Would you look at that!”
And just like that, he was gone.
Chuckling, I weaved through the designers and tailors as I made my way to the stairs.
By the time I hit the first floor, it hit hard that I was one of the only people here who was fully topless.
Self-consciousness flared, and I had to fight the urge to turn and head back upstairs to beg for twice as much costume.
The only saving grace that kept me from bolting was that no one looked horrified.
As I wove through the crowd, I caught more than a few appreciative glances—almost all from women. Some gave shy smiles before looking away, while others blatantly eye-fucked me. Age wasn’t even a factor. One woman, who looked roughly Richie’s age, gave me a nervous but lingering smile. Another, probably pushing sixty but still striking, didn’t even bother to pretend she wasn’t staring, and there was an invitation in those eyes.
With servers floating around carrying champagne and hors d'oeuvres, the bar wasn’t crowded—just a few people hanging onto the counter. I stepped up to an open spot.
One of the bartenders came over, and I rattled off five fairly complicated drink orders. He didn’t even write them down. When I asked him if he got all that, the gentleman beside me butted in.
“This is all he does,” he said with a mild Hispanic accent. He sipped on his cocktail and then said, “Rex here? One of the best in the business!”
“Stop,” Rex muttered.
“No, I’m serious! I’ve been trying to hire this man exclusively for over a year. No chance! At this point, it’s starting to feel personal.”
“You know I’d come work for you in a heartbeat if I wasn’t already under contract, Mr. Domínguez,” Rex said.
Mr. Domínguez looked to be in his mid-fifties, with a sharp widow’s peak and salt-and-pepper hair thinned aggressively at the sides. His skin was dark and weathered, the kind of texture you get from decades of smiling in the sun. When he grinned, his eyes crinkled like worn dollar bills.
He was dressed in a traditional toga—the kind that draped over one shoulder and tied at the waist. It left half his chest bare.
Well, it would have been bare had it not been completely engulfed with curly, silver hair.
The scent of aftershave and liquor hung around him like it was an aura. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but he wasn’t about to ambush anyone.
Domínguez sighed. “I know, Rex. Just keep sending those recommendations, and I’ll make do.”
He turned to me, grinning beneath a thick, bushy mustache. “Juan Domínguez. PetroMexica.”
“Ah,” I said, extending a hand. “Good to meet you. My name’s—”
“Say,” Domínguez interrupted, eyeing me up and down, “you look great in that outfit. Healthy. You must be miserable.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I said. “I work out pretty regularly. I’ve got a chef who coordinates meals with my trainer.”
He waved that off. “Don’t believe it. What’s better in life than alcohol, fat, and sugar, eh?”
Rex slid my drink toward me. I took a sip—and immediately decided it was one of the best Old Fashioneds I’d ever had. No wonder Juan wanted him on payroll.
Domínguez caught the look on my face and grinned. “Eh? The man’s a genius!”
“‘Genius’ might be underselling him,” I said.
“Thanks!” Rex called, already working on the next drink.
“And what did you say your name was?” Domínguez asked me.
I took another sip, bracing myself. “I didn’t. It’s Marcus.”
I offered my hand again. “Marcus Upton.”
“Good to meet you, Marcus Upton.”
Then his grin faltered.
I watched the recognition land in his eyes like a thrown brick.
“…as in the Gerrard Marcus Upton?”
“That’s the one,” I said, masking nerves behind another sip. I had no idea how people at this party would react to me. The headlines had been brutal, and there was no telling who suffered greatly under the effects of the war between Hiro and me. This could go either way—pitchforks or photo ops.
I thought about the pen tucked away in my leather skirt.
Domínguez’s eyes widened. “Well… holy shit!”
Then his grin came roaring back.
“Of all the places I could’ve sat! What are the odds!?”
Given that there were somewhere between twenty and thirty people here, the odds seemed pretty decent, but I wasn’t about to be an ass to someone being decent to me.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s been… a lot. Some friends told me I needed to get out… mingle a little.”
He clapped me on the shoulder—bare skin on bare skin, which was a bit weird. “My boy, I think you couldn’t have picked a better place to make your debut!”
Then he leaned in, hand still on my shoulder. “Tell me—what have you heard about these parties?”
“Almost nothing,” I admitted.
“Same here! First one for us too.” He nodded toward a nearby table, where two women sat among a small group. “That’s my wife, Rosa, and our daughter, Elena.”
Rosa looked to be in her mid-thirties—Mexican, with rich brown skin several shades deeper than Domínguez’s. Dark hair, high cheekbones, a strong Greek nose, full lips. Tall, elegant, wrapped in a toga similar to her husband’s.
The girl next to her looked anywhere between sixteen and twenty. It was hard to say. She had a soft, heart-shaped face, straight brown hair that fell past her shoulders, and a natural, youthful glow. The perfectly done makeup was subtle but well-practiced, making her seem just old enough to be almost in the clear.
“Family?” I asked.
Domínguez nodded. “My wife, Rosa, and our daughter, Elena.”
I glanced at him sideways. “I’ve, uh… gotten the impression these parties can be a little… adult.”
Juan looked at his family, a bit puzzled.
“Oh!” he said a moment later, realization dawning. “Elena just turned nineteen last week!”
“Ah,” I said, still feeling a little weird that he’d brought his daughter to a party so heavily implied to be centered around debauchery. “Okay then. I guess that’s fine.”
“Say,” he said, tapping me on the arm with his knuckles, “you know Roderick Stone?”
“Name sounds vaguely familiar,” I said.
“He’s the Senior Operations Manager for your Cruises Division’s Marine Services,” Domínguez explained, grinning.
The guy in charge of the boats. “Gotcha. What about him?”
“I’ve been trying to set up a meeting with him,” he continued. “I would love to talk to him about supplying your ships with fuel, but I haven’t been able to get him on the phone.”
“And you want me to cut through the red tape and help you get the guy’s ear,” I said.
Juan tilted his glass toward me, ice clinking. “If anyone can do it…”
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my chin in thought. “Let me see what I can do.”
I felt a twinge of unease making any promises without knowing the full story. For all I knew, there was a reason Stone wasn’t answering Domínguez’s calls. Maybe Domínguez was tied to some kind of fuel-based cartel or something.
Anyway, the last thing I needed was to tangle up the Tanaka deal. VistaVision Cruises was tied into that, after all.
Although it couldn’t hurt to look into it. Hell, maybe I could use this to start a war between Hiro and a Mexican crime syndicate or something… if Domínguez was even associated with something like that.
In fact, now that I knew that there were some friendly faces around here, this night suddenly looked like it might present all kinds of interesting opportunities.
“Sorry,” I said, feeling a little lame that I couldn’t give him a firm answer. “I can’t promise more than that.”
“It’s more than I’ve had so far, Mr. Upton. Gracias!”
“Upton?” the man on the other side of him said—another bald guy in his late fifties, if I had to guess. “As in the Gerrard Upton?”
“Holy hell… I’ve been hearing rumors that you’re planning to sell your shares of VistaVision. Is that true?”
I hesitated.
“It is, isn’t it?” the older man pressed.
“I can’t—”
“Oh, come on now,” he said, waving off my protest. “No need for secrecy here!”
I had a strong suspicion that was the biggest lie I’d hear all night.
“We’re shifting some things around,” I said carefully. “But honestly, I can’t say much more than that, sir.”
His mouth turned down at the corners, clearly unsatisfied.
“Hey now, Steve,” Juan said, tapping the man’s arm with his knuckles. “If the boy can’t talk, don’t try to make him talk, eh?”
Then, smiling at me, he added, “Tonight’s for making friends. Helping each other out, yes?”
I raised my glass and tapped it to his. “I’ll drink to that.”
Over the next few minutes, Juan helped me meet a few more guests—Victor “Vic” Smith, an app developer with more than a hundred apps in his portfolio. Madison Gable, who was once a British teen star, ditching the spotlight to build a fashion brand that exploded. Dinesh Rao, a rival to the Desai family with a tech empire based out of India. The older bald man turned out to be Steve Jackal—part-owner of Stalvert Innovations, which was one of the largest weapons manufacturers in the U.S. Of course, there were a few others.
Most of the men were older and at least twenty to thirty pounds overweight—pretty typical among the ultra-wealthy, who could afford to remain eligible regardless of how much weight they gained.
In fact, only a handful of the men looked close to my age and in shape, but I hadn’t even had the chance to meet any of them. I did, however, recognize one.
Kyle Kilgore.
One of the most recognizable actors out there. He was famous less for his range than for his strong jawline. The man practically booked gigs off his broad shoulders, rugged charisma, and that smirk that was practically a household name. He was a walking hall pass for every woman between the ages of… well, probably all ages. A small bevy of ladies clustered around him, hanging on every word. One of them giggled at something he said, and just then, Kyle glanced my way.
Our eyes met.
He gave me a roguish wink, then turned back to laugh at whatever the girl whispered to him.
Part of me found it exciting to be in the same room with Kyle Kilgore.
The other part, though, felt an ugly swell of jealousy.
That’s when I realized, in that moment, I’d been sizing everyone up since I arrived. Comparing, judging. Maybe I was the newest fish in the pond, outnumbered and possibly outclassed.
But I was the biggest fish… and among the best looking.
Despite all the nerves, I’d kept some degree of confidence.
But Kyle Kilgore chipped at that confidence fast.
And not just with envy—something territorial started to creep in.
Would Kyle be a temptation for the girls? My girls?
Natalie had never once expressed interest in sleeping with other men, but tonight wasn’t like anything we’d experienced before. This was the deep end of that pond filled with opulence, temptation… and Kyle fucking Kilgore.
Get a grip, Marcus. You’re better than this.
I shook my head, turned back to the bar, and took a long sip of my drink, as if I could swallow down the insecurity that had surfaced… something I hadn’t felt since before Europe.
“Who’d you come here with, anyway?” Vic asked, his arm around the waist of a stunning young woman with dark skin and even darker eyes. “You married?”
“Oh, uh… no,” I said. “I brought my girlfriend and my assistant.”
I hiked my thumb toward the stairs. “Left them upstairs while they were changing.”
I turned casually, half-hoping I’d spot them.
And whatever the hell I’d meant to say next died in my throat.
It didn’t matter.
All five of them were descending the stairs.
Astrid led the way.
She wore nothing over her chest—just a taut leather harness stretched across her small pale breasts. A metallic pauldron capped one shoulder—ceremonial, not functional. Indigo leather strips hung from her hips like an armored skirt, swaying with each step to reveal long, pale legs clad only in gold-tinted greaves.
She moved like a warrior queen, her chin high, jaw set, and her expression already bored with anyone who hadn’t bowed.
Atop her white-blond hair sat a laurel crown—black obsidian kissed with silver.
She looked like she’d come to conquer.
“Is that the Håkansson girl?” Someone said.
“Did you come with her?” Juan asked me.
“N-no,” I said, my voice faltering as my eyes locked on the second woman.
If Astrid was a queen, Natalie was a priestess meant to be pure and chaste. She moved with grace, a gentle smile on her face. White silk draped over her body in soft, pleated folds that shimmered with every careful step. Golden cords circled her waist, more like bindings than jewelry, tight enough to suggest someone else had tied them. Her hair was swept up, neck exposed, delicate and bare, and across her forehead sat a slim circlet with a single ruby drop at the center.
Jesus Christ, I’d never wanted to defile a holy woman so badly.
“The one behind her,” I finally said, distracted, “looks like a priestess… that’s mine.”
Vic let out a long whistle, followed immediately by a grunt as his date elbowed him in the ribs.
I barely noticed.
Because Erin was right behind Natalie.
And she looked like a goddess.
She descended the steps with the feline grace I’d come to expect from her, and her patented grin to match. Her toga clung in all the wrong ways, sheer plum fabric caught at the shoulder, bringing out the lavender sheen in her silver hair. It was cinched at the waist by a belt of braided vines and gold. I couldn’t be sure if I was imagining it, but it looked like I could just vaguely detect the faint darkness of her dusky nipples through the gauzy material. Both her hips were bared as the toga fell to her calves. Her hair was a wild crown of braids and violet ribbons.
Lara followed, and while the others had seduction woven into the fabric of their themes, temptation was the only theme she had.
She moved like one of those singers you might see in an old black-and-white movie, singing on stage while the protagonist peers at her lustfully from under the brim of his hat. Hips swayed, causing her black and gold peplos to sway to music that wasn’t there. The fabric clung more than any ‘robe’ should have, one leg bare through a slit that reached her hip. Her breasts, larger than Astrid’s or Erin’s, were mostly hidden behind the fall of dark fabric, but the neckline plunged so that the inner curves of her generous tits were on complete display. Her eyes met mine with the same look she’d given me earlier… an invitation.
And then… Sachiko.
She was wrapped in red silk like smoke, translucent layers shifting with every gliding step. It was just thin enough to suggest her curves without actually giving anything away, which felt like a testament to how we first met—gorgeousness not quite on display. A thin veil obscured the lower half of her face, her dark eyes gleaming beneath it. A gold sash cinched her slender waist, and twin snake armlets coiled up her biceps. Unlike the others, who wore sandals, she kept her heels on, which added to the elegance of her dress.
All five goddesses reached the bottom of the stairs and made their way toward me.
Astrid reached me first, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Like what you see?”
If she’d been alone, I probably would’ve been drooling. Astrid was crazy personified, but there was no denying that the woman was gorgeous, half waifish young mom next door, half Viking royalty.
Hell, any of them could’ve knocked me over with a feather.
Maybe I was biased. Most of the women here were stunning… natural beauties, with some enhanced to near perfection.
But none of them could touch Natalie and Erin.
My girlfriend stepped next to me, wrapping her arms around mine as she grinned up at me. Whatever nerves she'd had earlier now washed away in the glow of how I was looking at her.
“Hi, Marcus,” she said, her voice dripping with delight.
“You look stunning,” I breathed.
She bit her lip, eyes dropping to the floor—then flicked back up to mine, her smile impossibly wide.
“You want to introduce me to your friends?”
“Everyone,” I said. “This is my girlfriend. Natalie.”
Juan Domínguez was the first to step in, extending his hand with a charming smile. “Natalie! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”
Vic’s date, whose name I still hadn’t managed to catch, introduced herself to Sachiko, and the two of them immediately slipped into conversation. The rest unfolded in a flurry of greetings, smiles, and scattered chatter. I leaned back against the bar, sipping my drink, watching the chaos bloom.
“Congratulations,” Astrid said, settling beside me with a sigh.
I did my damnedest not to give her the satisfaction of catching me glancing at her tits, keeping my eyes fixed instead on Erin, who was chatting up a guy who looked oddly familiar… like someone I’d seen recently but couldn’t quite place.
“It seems like you’ve made a good first impression,” Astrid said.
“I think so,” I replied, then finally looked at her. “Just so you know, I’m not playing your stupid games.”
She met my challenging stare, amused. “We’ll see.”