Wallstreet God (The House Of Creed Book 1)

by D. M. Burns

  Of course, that’s where ole Vick entered the picture as his financial stand-in father. That’s how Channing ended up at CC Capitals in the first place. The rest is history. Who knew Vick had a fucking heart? I sure didn’t and I don’t buy any of that shit. Something larger than the obvious is playing out here. Whatever that is, my fucks are not given. Channing now occupies a front-row seat to my financial wrath of fuckery. Welcome to the party asshole.

  Does the guy hold repressed anger and jealousy for our father’s absence in his life? Maybe. Who the hell really knows? From what I’ve gathered my dad got with my mom a year before they had me. That exonerates my father from being a piece of shit cheater and clears him from any wrongdoings in my eyes. Even if he and my mother had issues, the man was still a damn good father to me, period.

  Contrary to Channing’s protests the sealed tight deal for CC Capitals will close. The investors I have on my side are willing to sell me their ownership equity which totals fifty percent of CC Capitals. The other half to my whole for shareholding fantasies is owned by the one and only Channing Creed.

  Vick was slick with the contract literature on the company he knew I wanted the most. I’ll admit that literal dusty dirtbag was skilled in word poetry when it came to business arrangements. He’s probably smiling up from his heated spot in hell right now.

  In the event of a buyout, Channing’s vested stock interest will still leave the bastard with half ownership investment. Because let’s face it, he’ll never sell his shares to me. I knew that Vick’s protégé in hiding held the golden ticket to my Creed Capitals dream. Hell, I figured that I’d buy the asshole out and be done with it. I just never knew the adversary would turn out to be my begrudging brother that I clearly never even knew existed.

  This means that he and I will share a leading interest. Together we’ll be the ultimate decision-makers for the future of the company. This entire thing has me beyond pissed but not swayed in the slightest. I’m a determined man. Shit is going to get interesting for sure and nonetheless downright fucking dirty.

  Pacing the length of my living room, I can’t help but wonder if Brea is safe. I wanted to bring her home with me last night. Shocking enough, I wanted her here in my domain. To get comfortable with the place. To know where I live so she could come to me on her own terms. I wanted to coerce her into having dinner with me then possibly roll that over into the Christmas holidays. The thought of having her here in my space settled the army of demons inside me a little. Fucking her was definitely on the menu with a main course event appeal.

  It’s obvious that the woman is under my skin in a bad way. Hell, luring her back here with inspirational thoughts that weren’t solely infused for a fuck said it all. I wanted to show her my home then feed her while enjoying her companionship. And if that’s not enough, I’m flipping the fuck out on my partners, business associates, and one less desirable brother that seems to have picked up on my fixation for my personal Southern Comfort fix.

  The events that transpired in the boardroom wouldn’t have escalated to the level that they did if Channing had kept his mouth shut about Brea. That was his ultimate goal though. Only I was too eager to crush his bones and I set out to do just that. The scary part of all that is I wanted to witness him taking his last breath. Be the deadly cause behind it too. Channing’s well aware of my weakness, her. No others exist.

  When the notification sounds out that I have a visitor, I saunter over to the system and pull up video chat with the lobby attendant. Normally those with access can simply key in and come up. Geneva, Carson and Lincoln are the only ones with credentials to my penthouse.

  “Good evening, Franklin,” I say.

  “Hello, Mr. Creed. Sir, there’s a…”

  “Franklin, send him up.” I snap then cut the video call.

  When I hear my elevator open, I’m standing in front of my skyline view, back to my estranged brother, and drink in my hand. This asshole is walking a fine line.

  “Damn little, bro. This is definitely better than my place and the fucking view is spectacular.” His voice is full of curious humor.

  Maybe he’d like a real-life drop out of this fucking skyscraper, a personalized site-seeing tour so to speak. I can make that happen for him. Throwing him out of my penthouse is tempting but I’m sure he lacks the ability to fly. My lips twitch at that thought.

  “You’re in luck. There’s a space for purchase. Of course, it’s underneath my feet, Channing. A position that you should really be familiar with by now, yeah? I could put in a good word for you, if interested.” I swivel around while circling the liquid in my glass then turn it up. “Could I interest you in a drink?”

  “Quite hospitable this evening, huh?” He says. “I thought you owned this building, bro.” He winks at me.

  Pointing my finger in the direction of the bar, I give him a chin lift. I know this fucker doesn’t expect me to be his bartender, delusional asshole. He smirks at me and moves to prepare his own poison of choice.

  When he picks up my coveted high dollar cognac, I visualize throwing my tumbler at his forehead, hand cannon style. Then he places it back down and to my surprise, the bastard selects my special ordered Southern Comfort. Complements of a late-night purchase when sleep failed me and thoughts of Brealyn were suffocating. I’ve found myself partial to the Southern Comfort here lately, who knew?

  “I do own the building.” I deadpan. He smiles wide and steps out from around the bar. “I don’t facilitate the daily operations or functions though.”

  “How much does a place like this cost?” He asks.

  “The high rise itself or the penthouse?” I smirk. Yeah, I’m rubbing it in.

  “Oh, little brother… You still have a lot of lessons in life that are going to hit you hard when they come to pass. They’ll truly be a humbling experience for you.” He chuckles. “Letting go of the things you want, and not because you necessarily want or have to, but because you’ll love them far more than you’ll love yourself for once. It’ll be a milestone for you that’s for sure.”

  “Channing, my father didn’t pass down a fortune even though he worked hard for it. We’ll give that thievery credit to good old Vick. He’s rightfully responsible for it. I’m the only one credited for my success, no other. I earned every fucking thing I have, no freebies here.” I turn up my drink. “So, save that shit.” He nods. “Why are you here?” I ask.

  “Brothers in business should at least share a drink, no?” He shrugs his shoulders.

  “I prefer to drink alone. Less bloodshed that way.” I smirk.

  “Oh, you’ll be doing a lot of things alone Brogan if you refuse to see reason here. I’m simply trying to save you from a lot of grief.” He walks over to my view alongside me and stares out into the distance at the pitch-dark sky above the bright lights and lively city below us. That window exit for him is looking better by the minute though.

  “Are we back to this again? Future telling, that is. Extraordinary trait but I gotta tell you, that’d be depressing as fuck for me. I’d hate to know what tomorrow holds. I like surprises. Keeps shit interesting.” I quirk my brow at him and shrug my shoulders. “Tell me, Channing, do you possess any other special characteristics that don’t involve a crystal ball for a prop? Because we both know business is not your strong suit. Anything else? You know, something that makes you special?” I laugh low.

  “Nothing like you. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was envious of your David Banner bullshit like tendencies.” He chuckles. “I have my talents, sure.” He shrugs then says, “But just like you, I’m going to hold onto my playing cards for now.” He turns his drink up. I don’t really blame him because I’d be working on the loopholes. He knows it.

  “Other than CC Capitals, what is it you want?” I ask. I damn well know this guy has other motives here.

  “What’s the curb appeal you have for her? Is it the golden blonde hair? The country accent, maybe? Or is it the everchanging eye color because they do change with her mood,
ya know? Wait… I know… It’s those long beautiful legs, right? You envision those wrapped around your waist, huh?” Channing turns his eyes my way ignoring my question altogether.

  If Brealyn were simply another coat in my closet I’d tell this asshole that those legs he speaks of were already lock around my waist last night, in my office, against my door. But she’s more than that to me. He’s trying to bait me.

  “You sure seem to know an awful lot about her eyes and other admirable attributes considering you’ve only seen her once.” I turn my head and stare at him. “Are those all the reason’s you want her?” I ask between gritted teeth. Stay calm Brogan and play his game.

  “Those are just a few of my favorite traits where she’s concerned. I have some fantastic and vivid country fantasies, but I’ll keep those to myself too. There are so many beautiful creatures here in this fine city. It’s easy to get distracted with sex appeal but it’s more. You know that though. She’s intriguing, to say the least.” He says.

  The crushing grip I have on my glass goes unnoticed until the crackling sound alerts me. I move for the bar and place it in the sink before it crumbles into loose shards and powder.

  “You better heed my warning where she’s concerned, big brother. Shit can get a little…” I step out from around the bar clasping my hands firmly at the base of my back and saunter his way. “How should I say this?” I rub my chin. “Unorthodox. Uncontrolled. Unfortunate.” I nod my head at him. “For you that is.”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way, Brogan. Let CC Capitals go and live happy with that girl. If you don’t things are going to spiral out of your control. Either way, I’ll get what I want but if you push this, I’ll end up with her too. It’s a bonus for me you see. As your big brother, I’m trying to look out for you.”

  “Tell me, Channing, if you can’t read my mind or sync abilities with me, how can you guarantee that the future you see for me is even genuine? Maybe it’s an optical illusion you’ve conjured up all on your own.” I let out a light chuckle.

  “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” He smiles wide. I slowly shake my head no. Fuck that and him.

  “Trust is the last thing that comes to mind when I look at you. But since you seem so familiar with that concept, TRUST me when I say you won’t like the way things turn out should you get near Brealyn.” I smirk and quirk my brow.

  “Did dear old dad, not tell you anything about your mom’s death?” He stares at me motionless. It weirdly reminds me of, well, me. I’m done with this conversation and him for the night.

  “Fuck your riddles, Channing. Now, I TRUST you can show yourself out, yes?” I turn and stride down my hallway. “By the way, thirty-nine billion. That’s what this skyscraper cost over five years ago when I purchased it.” I call out over my shoulder.

  “Good talk, little brother. We should do this again and soon.” I don’t bother to respond. “I’ll be in touch about the penthouse underneath your feet. I think I like it here. It’ll give us a chance to do that brotherly bonding thing we missed out on growing up.” He whistles out loud and I peer in the mirror on my wall to see him looking up at the painted mural on the ceiling as his shoes tap out a rhythm on the tile floor for his exit.

  chapter 19

  brealyn

  Swaying my body from side to side along with Tamera on the dance floor, it’s safe to say the alcohol has taken over. Max grabs my arm and turns me in a complete circle. My head falls back, and I can’t help the laugher that bubbles out of me. My best friends were right. It’s been too long since we all got together, had a few drinks, and enjoyed some live music. Admittedly, this band is pretty darn good too.

  Max pulls me and Tamera by the arm back to our seats and we each slide into our cherry leather booth. The 80’s vibe is alive as the strobe lights circle throughout the place giving each body a hint of sporadic color. The band opts for a slow song and I watch as the couples start molding together on the dance floor.

  Alcohol mixed with seductive music will equal sexy seduction and in nine months probably produce some tiny humans too. The cycle of life in a nutshell. My inebriated state coupled with my train of sexual thoughts cause me to breakout into a fit of giggles.

  “What are you cackling at you, gorgeous winter Brea-blizzard? By the way, I love the hip-hugging blue jeans and blood-red boobie luscious shirt. It looks good on you.” Max says.

  “Tam dressed me tonight. It was all her.” I blow Tam a kiss. “Anyway, I was just wondering how many of these ladies will be knocked up after tonight.” I wiggle my eyebrows. Tamera and Max both look back out at the dance floor full of sexy swaying bodies contemplatively.

  “Well, one thing we can all conclude with upmost certainty is that it won’t be me,” Max says. Tam and I both crack up.

  “Damn sure won’t be me either.” Tam shakes her head adamantly. “My pill ritual is on a regular basis. My career is banging and not only that, I for one, don’t want kids.” She shakes her head no.

  “Well, I want kids one day with the right person.” I shrug my shoulders.

  “Girl, I might consider it too if it was Brogan Creed’s dick I was riding,” Tam says.

  “No shit, right? All facts that can’t be denied.” Max nods. He leans into me and says, “Hell, I’d let him knock me up too.”

  “You do know that’s impossible, right?” I snicker at Max.

  “Technology is moving up every day. You never can tell Brea-bee,” Max wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  “You guys, I just saw a hot older Brogan Creed sighting walk through the front door. I’m calling dibs right now on that scrumptious suit.” Tamara says.

  My head swivels around to find Channing Creed in his long black London fog coat with a red scarf hanging loosely around the collar. I watch as he scans the place while tugging at his black leather gloves freeing his hands then tucking the material into the pockets of his coat. I slowly slide further down into my booth.

  As he unbuttons his coat and slings it over the back of his chair, I see his black slacks and crisp blood-red shirt are nicely fitted to his large body. His onyx hair is slicked back perfectly. The man is beautiful in design just like Brogan but different in a sense, I just can’t nail it down. When he turns his blackened-silver slits my way, he smiles. Two rows of perfected straight teeth gleam brightly my way.

  “Uhmmm, that actually is Brogan’s older brother,” I mumble. Tam’s head whiplashes her head back to me with shock in her expression.

  “What the actual fuck, Brea?” She semi-shouts while slapping her hand down on the table which causes my head to snap to attention. “I didn’t know he had a brother. And as my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me shit like that or at least hook me up with it. You’ve failed to honor your duties. It’s just proper bitch-code, Jesus Christ.”

  “She’s right Brea-bee. And that same bitch-code goes for your Bro-bitch BFF too.” Max says as he turns his beer up. “Is he straight?” Max asks. I roll my eyes at him.

  “I haven’t gotten around to asking him his preference in sexual pleasure, Max,” I say. “But by all means, feel free to ask him yourself.” I toss my hand out in Channing’s general direction.

  “I can tell you right now, he’s all about the pleasure of the P and I don’t mean penis. Sorry, Maxie-pooh.” Tam pokes her bottom lip out pretending a sad face but she’s not even close to being sorry. “You know I have a sixth sense for the opposite sex and he’s a pussy-player all the way, every day.”

  “Whateve’s. I got an interested penis-player at my six anyway. I’ll be right back.” Max takes off. I giggle at his enthusiasm and ability to bounce back.

  “Girl, he’s like more refined sexy, and I thought that was impossible after seeing Brogan. That Creed bloodline is something else.” Tam fans herself. I quirk my eyebrow at her.

  “I’ve never known you to sweat over a man, Tam. Honestly, though, he sorta creeps me out a little.” I confess.

  “Why?” She turns her head back his way and studies
him for any imperfections.

  “I’m not real sure. The way he looks at me is like he knows truths about me that I don’t even have a clue about. It’s unnerving and he’s scary.” I admit.

  “Wow. Tell you what, I’ll fuck him and let you know if he’s harboring any unknown beasts behind the expensive clothing and zipper that you need to be aware of.” She snort laughs and slaps the table.

  “You are so bad.” I crack up.

  “Hey ladies. These drinks were sent over compliments of Mr. Creed.” The waitress says as she places the freshly made cocktails in front of us. I stare at mine like it’s a poisonous concoction sent straight up from the depths of hell.

  “Well, that was nice of him,” Tam says while tossing hers back without a second thought.

  “Yeah,” I mumble while turning my head to sneak a peek at Channing only to find his seat empty. Maybe he went home.

  “Hey, I’m gonna dance with the guy over there that’s been eye-fucking me since we got here. You want to tag up with his buddy? He’s kinda cute.” She points in their direction, but I shake my head no.

  “Nope. You go ahead. I’m good to sit this one out. As a matter of fact, I think I’m going to head home. I’m tired. I was wrapping presents all day. By the way, do you know your Christmas plans yet? I know Max is going to his parents but what about you?” I ask.

  “I think I have an out of town Christmas shoot, but I’ll let you know for sure when my agent confirms. Are you sure you want to head home? It’s still early.” Tam tilts her head and makes a true sad face.

  “Yeah. I’ll text you just as soon as I step through my front door. You guys stay and have fun, okay?” I reach out and hug my bestie.

  “Sure, okay babe.” She says.

  “Tell Max I said to wrap it up if his Mr. Six works out tonight.” She chuckles at me. “Now, go dance.” I wave my hands at her in a dismissive motion. She takes off and snags her new dance partner up. I look back down at the drink from Channing and push it back. Not today Satan.