House of Cards (Tech Billionaires)

by Ainsley St Claire

  I can’t help but smile. “I’m so grateful Jim suggested this. Thank you.”

  “Anytime. Nate texted me about an hour ago, and they’re going strong at the tournament. The girls and I are going to meet for dinner. We can order in tonight, and you could join us?” Cecelia offers.

  “Not necessary. Jonathan is planning on a dinner break with me, so I’m good. You guys have a great time. Where are you going?”

  “We have reservations at the Asian fusion place. Have you been?”

  I nod, smiling wide. “It’s fantastic. Be sure to try the pad thai tacos. They’re outstanding.”

  “I will, and I’ll let you know what I think. They sound delicious.”

  I wave my farewell and walk back to Jonnie’s apartment through the back stairwell. It’s really well hidden. Nobody has much chance to see me coming or going.

  As soon as I enter the apartment, I grab the burner phone and see multiple texts.

  Jonnie: I love you. Don’t worry. Call Jim if you have any questions.

  Christopher: We’re fine hiding in beautiful Mendocino. Don’t do anything. Running home will only land you in jail. Love you. C & B

  I sit back and reread Christopher’s text. He knows me so well. I’d love to run back home and tell the media I’m fine, not to mention alert them that this is a smear campaign, but Christopher is right. That’s not a great plan in light of all that seems to be going on. Instead, I decide to take Jonnie’s advice and call Jim.

  “Hey, Maggie. How was your afternoon?” he asks in greeting.

  “It was good. I relaxed and caught up on all the latest gossip.”

  “I assume you’re calling because you saw Patrick Moreau’s news conference?”

  “I did, but I only caught the last few minutes. What did I miss?”

  “It started with the announcement that you were the future chairman of the board at Reinhardt Corporation. Then they said you got on a plane yesterday in San Francisco and somehow disappeared. Neither Christopher nor Steven can be located either, so they’ve told the public there’s a national manhunt.”

  I groan. Such a waste of manpower. “The FBI is involved?”

  “They are. Don’t stress about it, though. It’s all designed to flush you out.”

  “Christopher told me not to rush home to Minneapolis.”

  “He’s right. Stay where you are. We’ve seen an uptick in the Kryetar’s presence at the hotel and throughout Las Vegas. Since the last person they saw you with is Jonathan, they’re snooping around. It’s important you keep a low profile.”

  My stomach drops to the floor. I can hardly breathe. It takes a few minutes to process that Jonnie is not safe with me here.

  “Your team is well equipped to deal with this,” Jim assures me. “And Marci’s working on the legal situation. Please try to avoid the news. The press conference is going to replay often, and it will only further upset you.”

  “Thanks for that advice. I’ll touch base with Marci and get some direction from her.”

  He offers a few additional updates about my security detail and his plans to increase the coverage. He alludes to possibly having someone inside with me, rather than down the hall.

  I hang up the phone and pace in front of the big windows. I pick at my newly polished nails and peel off the light pink polish, cursing myself even as I do it. Jonnie is in trouble, and Christopher and Stevie are in hiding—all because of me. What will I do if I’m the reason Bella loses her child?

  What if there’s something more I could do about this—rather than just sitting around? I need to take some kind of action… I start by calling Marci’s personal cell. She answers before it even rings.

  “I’m so glad you called,” she says warmly.

  “I couldn’t help myself after my mother plastered a poster of me and my brothers all over the news as if we’ve been kidnapped. They only ‘lost’ me maybe…” I glance at the wall clock. “…twenty hours ago. It seems a little overboard, don’t you think?”

  “It would seem the actions of a desperate woman,” Marci replies.

  “Jim tells me the Kryetar have stepped up their presence here at the hotel.”

  “That’s alarming,” Marci says. “But you’re hidden away, and you have the finest group of protectors.”

  “Maybe if I make my case to the public, I can show them my mother and her lawyer are lying,” I offer.

  Marci’s quiet a few moments. “Right now I don’t have anything to prove your signature isn’t a forgery, and it would be your statement against theirs. And if Mr. Moreau, who is an officer of the court, lies and says he advised you not to do it but witnessed you taking the money, the court of public opinion will be against you.”

  My stomach ties itself in knots.” So you’re telling me they hold all the cards here.”

  “I like your Vegas analogy.” She chuckles.

  I smile. “I didn’t know that was a Vegas analogy, but the cliché fits.”

  “I want to assure you that I’m working on this through back channels and remind you that all of our discussions are privileged. So call me if you learn anything or something happens,” she says.

  I hesitate. I know if I tell her I’m going to commit a crime that may harm someone, she has to share that. That isn’t my plan, but it could go sideways, and she might recognize that and alert the police. I debate all the things that could go wrong, and it’s a few moments before I decide to tell her what I’m thinking. But I take a different tack.

  “Marci, I’m worried Jonnie is in danger. The Kryetar has increased its presence at the hotel. What if they make a move?”

  “What do you know about Jim Adelson and Clear Security?” Marci asks.

  “Not enough, apparently.”

  “These guys are all top-notch former military, FBI, and police. They’re willing to put their lives at risk for you. Don’t let a little bit of fake news get to you. Keep doing what you’re doing. You can’t allow them to scare you.”

  “But they are,” I whisper, fighting back tears.

  “It’s probably going to get worse,” she warns. “But once they announce a warrant for your arrest, I’ve got a plan. Don’t you worry. An old friend from law school lives in Chicago. She’s going to reach out to whoever has issued the warrant and act as our intermediary. That will move the search for you away from Las Vegas and the West Coast, and it will also give me room to work behind the scenes with local federal prosecutors. I’ve worked with them before, so that’s helpful.”

  “All right. I’ll be patient,” I tell her.

  I sigh. The calls to Jim and Marci were supposed to calm me, but instead, they’ve ratcheted up my concern.

  “Thank you for all your help, Marci. I really appreciate it. I’ll remain in touch.”

  The sun has set, and I stare out over the dark desert. I have the truth on my side. People will believe me. They have to. I begin to formulate my plan.

  I’m still pacing when the front door of the apartment opens, spilling light into the living room.

  Jonnie steps in. “Why are you in the dark?” He approaches and puts his arms around me. I immediately feel better.

  “I didn’t want someone who may know this is your apartment to see lights turn off and on while you were downstairs,” I explain.

  He studies me. “You can’t sit in the dark just because I’m not here. I want you to know, we’re going to weather this. Do not let today’s press conference upset you.”

  “Have you seen it?” I challenge.

  He nods.

  “You don’t think seeing a poster-size image of your face behind a man who is lying about you might be upsetting? What about the fact that the Kryetar have descended on the hotel? It’s making me question my decisions, which could bring harm to people I care about.

  “I’m here for you. Emerson, Caroline, and Cecelia are not going to let anyone know where you are.”

  “I believe that.” I kiss him, and it quickly becomes deeper. The air in the room grows th
ick with the passion between us.

  My heart explodes, racing faster, not knowing how far he’ll let me go. I want him. I need him. I step out of my yoga pants, pull my T-shirt over my head, and stand before him in a lacy black bra and matching thong.

  He hasn’t had a chance to move before I take over, removing his shirt and jacket and tossing them over the sofa. Our eyes lock before he leans down and his lips touch mine. He rubs his thumbs over my erect nipples, my breasts straining against the tiny black lace bra. I reach back and quickly unhook it.

  He catches his breath and mutters, “Magnificent.”

  I smile.

  He fumbles with his buckle and pants, and I slip my thong over my hips and stand naked before him, ready and waiting. When he kicks them free, his eyes are hooded and his glorious cock bobs at full mast, aching to be touched.

  He steps back and licks his lips. “You’re positively beautiful.” He kneels to stroke my legs and caress my hips as he whispers, “You have the most perfect heart-shaped ass.”

  His hand grazes my core, and I move my hips to beg for more. He reaches for my breast and his thumb rubs over my nipple, which is just begging to be sucked.

  I begin to kneel, but he stops me and tells me in no uncertain terms that he needs to taste me. We move to the couch and he drops to his knees, putting my leg over his shoulder. I can see him take in the sight and smell of my pussy through the reflection of windows. He licks around my clit, lapping up moisture and sucking as his fingers explore me from the inside. My breathing increases, and a deep moan escapes as I push my pussy deeper into his mouth. Flicking my clit with his tongue, he increases the pressure. My breathing becomes labored and my legs stiffen as I reach my peak, groaning as I fill his mouth.

  “You taste amazing,” he breathes.

  I sit up to kiss him on the mouth, tasting myself. It turns me on even more.

  “You do that so well,” I tell him.

  I will now thoroughly enjoy giving him his much-desired attention. Leading him by the hand, I move past the living room to the bedroom, where I lay him on his back. Kissing him deeply, I kneel between his legs, taking his cock into my mouth. I work magic with my tongue as I swirl around the head, holding firm at the base of his cock and stroking to match each head bob. I suck and stroke a steady rhythm while rolling his balls in my palm. His breathing becomes labored, and when I look up at him, his eyes are glazed over in ecstasy.

  “I don’t want to come in your mouth. Can I come inside you?”

  I look up at him, his cock still deep in my mouth, and think about it. I enjoy drinking from him so much. He gave me pleasure with his mouth, and I want to do the same. However, the idea of having him inside me is even better. He pulls his cock from my mouth with a pop.

  With a wicked smile, I climb on top of him. He’s so big that it takes a few strokes for me to fully accommodate him. I can’t decide if I like sucking him or fucking him better, but regardless, an electrical current spreads through my veins as I feel his hardened cock penetrate me repeatedly. God help me, it feels good.

  My tits bounce in front of him, and I begin to fondle them and pinch at the nipples. His hands quickly cover mine and then replace them entirely as he works my nipples while I continue to move up and down on his length. After a moment his hands move to my hips, guiding my pace as I ride his cock so we can both enjoy every minute.

  He looks me in the eye, and I lick my fingers as if they’re his cock. With those same wet fingers, I strum my clit, fast and hard. My insides respond, and I clamp down on him.

  He’s loud when he comes, calling my name as my pussy clenches his cock, milking every last drop of his cum.

  I collapse on top of him, breathing heavily, and ask, “Was that okay?”

  “Ab-absolutely!” he stammers with a silly grin. “That was so much better than okay.”

  I giggle, and we curl into each other. I feel a sense of peace for the first time since the news conference this afternoon. “Thank you for everything,” I tell him, nearly asleep.

  He holds me tightly. I can hear his heart flutter.

  “You should probably head back,” I murmur.

  “I won’t if you need me.” He kisses the top of my head.

  I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to raise any suspicion. Go.”

  He kisses me goodbye, and I hope he can forgive me for what I need to do.

  Chapter 28

  Jonathan

  “Are you ready?” Travis asks.

  He’s materialized next to me like a ninja. I knew he was coming and still missed him entering the room. I take a deep breath and look at my watch. Queen Diva is in her last set before the encore. It’s ten fifty p.m. We meet the police in ten minutes.

  I nod to Gillian across the table. She knows I’ll be back after this is finished. All indicators point to this game going strong, as there are still five tech billionaires at each table. They’re playing conservatively tonight.

  Caden and Kian escort Travis and me as we go to meet Detective Kincaid. When we reach the lobby, I spot him standing beneath the vibrant Dale Chihuly chandelier, looking like a lost tourist. He’s taking in everything going on around him as he waits.

  “Did you come alone?” I ask, though I’m relieved that there isn’t a group of uniformed officers with him.

  He shakes his head. “We’ve got three squad cars around the back. They’ll come in on my signal.”

  We walk and talk in hushed tones. “My team has eyes on backstage and the surrounding area,” Travis says. “Queen Diva’s assistant, Renee, is hovering in her dressing room. During the last set, she blew Frankie on the couch.”

  This is going to be awful. “Is she going to say she was coerced by Frankie?” I ask.

  “That’s for the courts to figure out,” Detective Kincaid says. “But while the sex may be coerced, I don’t think the theft is.”

  “My gut says yes, but I still can’t figure out for sure if Frankie is involved. He was visibly upset that the dresses were missing, and he received most of the blame,” Travis notes.

  “He’s also in debt to a few bookies here in town,” Detective Kincaid adds.

  “Are you going to be able to arrest him?” I ask.

  “Well, this is our trick. We’ll read them their rights, and sometimes while we’re going to go through the motions, they shower us with the incriminating evidence. It’s always interesting the way things play out. We may find that he didn’t know about the dresses, but we’re confident he knew something. Let’s see what we learn.”

  When we reach the auditorium, backstage is a flurry of activity. Queen Diva has completed her final change and started the encores. The crowd is on their feet and singing along.

  “She’s amazing. So much talent.” Detective Kincaid claps loudly, enjoying his VIP view of the show.

  “I’m sure she’ll give you an autograph,” I offer.

  He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t dare ask.” He stops dancing and looks at me. “Maybe I can get a discount on some of the cheap seats for my wife and two daughters for a future show.”

  “You can go to my box seats. You name the date,” I tell him.

  “Can’t accept that. It could be construed as bribery,” he says.

  I’m stunned. Free tickets, comped meals, and essentially anything that can be given in this town are usually expected, not considered bribes.

  “We’ll make it happen,” I assure him. “Separate from any of this. You name the day.”

  “My wife’s birthday is coming up...” he says, thinking out loud.

  “Consider it done.” I’ll upgrade their tickets, and I’m sure Queen Diva will want to gush all over him and meet the family after the show. She’s always happy to do those types of things. Always looking out for others. How she ended up with the likes of Frankie I’ll never understand.

  Queen Diva finishes with her third encore and marches right up to us. Her stage smile disappears as soon as she’s out of sight from the crowd.
<
br />   “Let’s get this done. I’ve never been so angry,” she hisses.

  She rushes back to the dressing room, and we follow along. Frankie’s sitting on the couch, very close to Renee, and he scrambles to stand.

  “I know all about you two. No need to hide it,” Queen Diva announces.

  “What?” Frankie looks from Renee to Queen, and then to the three of us. “No-nothin’s going on here.” He wipes his pants as if there are crumbs, but I suspect he’s wishing his erection away.

  “I’d kick your fat ass out of my dressing room, but the police here are gonna take care of that for me,” Queen Diva declares.

  Detective Kincaid steps up with two uniformed officers standing behind him. “Francis Michael Lowell, I’m with the Las Vegas Police Department, and I have a warrant for your arrest.”

  “Arrest? Wh-what?” Frankie stammers.

  Detective Kincaid turns to Renee, holding a piece of paper. “Renee Samantha Hawthorne, I have an arrest warrant for you as well.”

  An officer begins to read their Miranda warning.

  Renee jumps up and attempts to run out of the dressing room. “You can’t arrest me for having an affair.”

  Frankie continues to protest as the officer speaks. Queen Diva sneers in disgust and walks out of the room.

  “He forced me to have sex,” Renee whines. “If I didn’t, he told me I’d lose my job.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Frankie roars. “I love my wife; I did no seducing. You were the one seducing me. Who got down on their knees only an hour ago? I don’t think so.”

  “He... He... He made me.” Renee dissolves into crocodile tears. “I love Queen Diva. I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

  “That’s why you stole her dresses,” Frankie says with contempt.

  We got what we were hoping for. I’m impressed.

  Renee whips her head toward him with a look of shock. “I did no such thing.”

  “She has them listed on eBay,” he tells us. “I saw them there today. I was going to call you tomorrow to let you know.”