Cruel Masters

by Stone, Piper

  “Nonsense. I know you’re busy. I took the liberty of ordering us some wine. I figured we were due for a celebration of your success.”

  I laughed as I peered out the window, the restaurant overlooking the most vibrant section of the city. I remained nervous, uncertain that I’d made the right decision but was determined to follow through. I was a tough girl. I could take what the owners of Extreme had to dish out.

  Or so I hoped.

  When the waiter brought the wine, taking his time before pouring two glasses, my thoughts drifted to the gorgeous albeit ruthless asshole heading the powerful acquisition firm. The attraction between us had been obvious, the hunger in his eyes just as formidable as the man himself. But my visit to my old hometown had nothing to do with romance.

  I was determined to expose the entire company for the criminals they were.

  “So, what are you doing here?” Grace asked as she reached for her wine. “A hot story? Maybe a celebrity this time?”

  “I don’t do celebrities,” I chortled. “But the story could give a significant boost to my career.” If everything went according to my months of planning. Even the articles I’d written on two notorious mafia families hadn’t brought much interest.

  “Well, aren’t you going to tell me? You know I live vicariously through your amazing reports.”

  “I’m not certain how amazing they are.” I’d taken pride in the various articles that I’d written during the last three years, even if they’d been relegated to page three or beyond. This would be the coup de grâce that I’d been searching for.

  If only I didn’t fall prey to any of the gorgeous owners. Every photograph of the three ka-trillionaires reminded me that wealthy, powerful, and influential people ruled the world.

  I certainly wasn’t one of those.

  “Bullshit. You’ve done so well for yourself.” Grace was practically beaming with enthusiasm. “Come on. Spill it. What are you working on?”

  I took a careful glance at the other tables surrounding us. The last thing I wanted to do was spill the beans. I’d taken a significant amount of time to hide my true identity. The men who ran Extreme were as thorough as they were brutal. “You have to promise not to say anything.”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  I made a face. “Have you ever heard of a company named Extreme?”

  Her eyes opened wide and she jerked back. I was surprised by her twisted expression.

  “You mean the bastards who enjoy tearing apart companies, dumping the original employees then putting the corporation under their umbrella, claiming victory as they earn millions of dollars from their non-original thought? That company?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

  Huffing, she took a sip of her wine before leaning forward. “They’re brutal in their tactics. I can tell you that.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “Are you doing some kind of story on the owners?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Oh, girl, you have balls, but I don’t think you should do this. They eat their enemies for breakfast.” Grace’s face was full of concern.

  “Well, they don’t know who they are dealing with, Grace. They’ve pushed people around for years, treating their ideas, hopes, and dreams as if they were worthless. If I can expose them for all the horrible things they’ve done, maybe I’ll save one or two others from going through their hoops.”

  Grace narrowed her eyes. “Amazing. You hate these guys with a vengeance, but I don’t think you understand just how dangerous they are. There have been rumors for years that they eliminate their enemies.”

  I laughed. “You know how rumors are.”

  Sighing, she took a few seconds before continuing. “Okay, how are you going to infiltrate their company? They are also very private and protective, their methods of business as secretive as it gets. I’m sure you’ve read an article in Forbes or Money magazine.”

  Hell, yes, I’d read them. The glow and show articles had given me nausea. However, there had been other reports issuing innuendos of just how far they went in order to succeed. That’s what I was prepared to base my article on.

  “To answer your question, I plan on getting close to them by becoming one of their candidates for their yearly bullshit loan they give out, all in a guise of charity.” I’d investigated the firm for almost six months, going over every piece of information I could find as well as talking to current and former clients. Almost no one had anything nice to say about them, even accusing the three owners of extorting from their companies. After months of preparation, my publisher had finally given me the green light to go undercover to gather information, although I had to be careful in how I handled my investigation.

  They were cagey fuckers.

  “Wait a minute. How in the hell are you going to do that? They’ll see through you in a heartbeat.”

  I swirled my finger around the rim of my glass before answering. “Maybe, but I’m no fool. Do you remember my sister owns Delicious Confections?”

  “Addy? Sure. I haven’t been there in several months. How is she doing?” A sly smile crossed her face. “You own a part of her company. I forgot all about that.”

  “I do and her business has suffered like so many small companies. It’s the perfect cover to gain entrance into the world of Extreme.”

  “What does your sister think about this?”

  “Oh, she went along with me. However, they don’t know she’s my sister. I just told them she was a friend.” After several promises I’d made. I cringed at the thought, worried I wouldn’t be able to follow through. I also didn’t want anyone at Extreme to figure out who I was through Addy.

  Another even more concerned look crossed her face. “Uh-huh. Girlfriend, I know you are tenacious, bold, and refuse to back down when you bite into a story, but those men are dangerous. I wasn’t kidding about that.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No maybe. You might not like rumors, but they’ve been flying for years, including with regard to this loan they provide. You don’t want to cross them. People have disappeared.”

  “Where the hell did you hear that?”

  She shrugged. “I have my sources just like you do.”

  “Okay, tell me more,” I said as I finally took a sip of the wine. I couldn’t seem to get Sebastian’s face out of my mind. He was the kind of drop dead gorgeous that you only saw on prominent fashion magazines. With thick blond hair and striking blue eyes, a muscular body chiseled out of the finest stone, and the kind of presence that stopped every conversation when he walked into a room, he was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Chicago.

  And the way he’d looked at me, lusted after me, had been… chilling.

  She seemed even more uncomfortable, leaning forward and lowering her voice, glancing around the restaurant as if afraid anyone would hear us. “I hate to spread ugly insinuations, but the kind of hoops they make the final candidates go through are savage, even cruel. They’re certainly bordering on pushing the boundaries of the law.”

  I’d heard the owners used a very structured format when making their final selection, but cruel? Maybe unscrupulous I’d buy. “Go on.”

  “This was something I heard maybe two years ago, but they belong to a club, some kind of elusive gentlemen’s club.”

  “You must be talking about the Chicago Gentlemen’s Club. That’s been around for thirty years.”

  “Yeah, the entrance fee is more than I make in a year, but that’s not what’s important,” Grace continued. “From what I was told, several business owners are doing similar loans, almost as if it’s a game to them. They all get together and require the final candidates to give reasons why they should get the loan. Or maybe I should say performances.”

  Performances? That I hadn’t heard before.

  “Who did you hear this from, Grace?”

  When she paled, I was even more curious.

  “Look,” she whispered.
“A couple of years ago, I’d friended a girl who’d applied for their loan, making it to the final stage before being ousted. She wouldn’t tell me much. I could swear she was terrified of them.”

  I laughed softly. “Well, they are formidable.”

  “I don’t know, KK. I think it was more than that. The club members aren’t just high society, they’re the richest of the rich, but not all of them are in a traditional business, if you get my drift. The concept of parading around a bunch of dirty old men disgusts me. I’m surprised you’d consider it.”

  While the concept was unconventional, I wasn’t certain why it bothered her so much. “Okay, so that’s weird, but I have no problem taking on a room full of cronies if it will help get me a story. I’m one tough chick, remember.”

  Grace shook her head vigorously. “You don’t understand. Only the female candidates are asked to participate. And…” She took another sip of her wine. “From what I’ve heard, the women do everything it takes to be selected. Do you really understand what I’m saying?” She leaned even closer, her breath ragged. “Stripping. Sex. Who knows? Given what I’ve heard about the three owners of Extreme, sharing isn’t out of the question.”

  I burst into laughter. Sharing? As in the three of them with one girl? I wasn’t a prude by any means, but for three dominating men to agree to something like that seemed out of the ordinary.

  A flash of filthy images floated back and forth in my mind, a warm flush creeping up from my neck. Even my nipples hardened at the thought. Wow. The idea was insane.

  And totally unprofessional.

  “You are kidding me.” I continued to chuckle.

  “Oh, no, I’m not. Now, the information has never been corroborated, but the girl I mentioned just disappeared. Poof. I’ve never heard from her again. I’ve also heard once they get their claws into you, they own you for life.”

  “Interesting but insane. Are you trying to tell me that this friend of yours might have been…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  “I just don’t know, Kendra. The question is are you willing to do what it takes to get that story?”

  I’d heard enough speculation and read enough about them to know what I was possibly getting myself into. “Maybe. I can certainly stand in front of a room full of men and take them on if that’s what it takes.”

  “Boy, you really want to take these guys down. I could be wrong, but I’d be very careful if I were you. I don’t think you want to tangle with the men who own Extreme. If they find out who you really are, there’s no telling what they’ll do.”

  A part of me wanted nothing more than to take them on. “Thank you for your warning, but I’m a big girl. I’ve even come face to face with the New York mafia. I think I can handle three men. Now, stop worrying. Men are all alike. Right?”

  “Three incredibly sexy men,” she said, laughing, albeit nervously. “Sorry, but they are. Still, I wouldn’t trust them.”

  That much I couldn’t deny. “Warning accepted. See? Not such a bad assignment after all since they are delicious eye candy. However, after my morning meeting, I might not even have a chance at advancing onto the next round.”

  “I’m afraid to ask what you did.”

  “Just be myself,” I grinned, batting my eyelashes.

  “When do you find out if you’re on the short list?”

  “Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. Hell, maybe never. I wasn’t very… friendly with Mr. Randolph.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “The same KK I know and love.”

  “I’m going by Caroline at this point, not Kendra.”

  “Ah. Fully undercover. You are serious about this.”

  “Absolutely. This could mean a push onto the national market.” As well as getting male scum predators like Sebastian Randolph, Chase Cutler, and Dax Monroe tossed into prison. When I heard the sound of my phone, I sighed. My editor had been checking on me constantly, equally as concerned as Grace.

  Seeing the number on the screen sent a chill down my spine. I locked eyes with Grace before answering. “Caroline Sheffield.”

  “Ms. Sheffield, I’m Marjorie Porter, Mr. Randolph’s assistant. We met earlier. I’m calling to give you the good news that you are one of the final candidates for the Extreme small business loan.”

  “That’s fantastic, Marjorie. I’m certain there are additional requirements as we move forward.” The woman seemed surprised that I was being so forward.

  “Well, yes. There are several rules that you need to follow.”

  “Rules? What kind of rules?” I asked, my disdain increasing. I knew by her hesitation that she was anxious about sharing too much with me.

  “I can tell you that Mr. Randolph requires full obedience.”

  “Obedience?” Hearing the word coming from her mouth seemed ridiculous. “You have to be kidding me.”

  “No, Ms. Sheffield. There are consequences if his requirements aren’t followed. I’m going to send you an email later with all the details. That should help answer some questions. In addition, every final candidate receives ten thousand dollars.”

  “For what?” I had to fight not to bite her head off.

  She laughed. “For making it this far. Anyway, there will be a few things for you to sign, a nondisclosure document.”

  This was getting more outrageous by the minute. My best guess was that the ten thousand dollars came with certain obligations, although the nondisclosure was typical in this type of situation. But I knew there was more.

  Including remaining silent about their operation and their practices, no matter how unscrupulous. That’s why the people I’d spoken with had given me almost nothing.

  “Thank you, Marjorie. I’m looking forward to reading that email.” After ending the call, I gave my bestie a shameful look. Jesus Christ. The bastard had to be out of his mind to expect I’d follow whatever bullshit rules he required. A shiver skated down the backs of my legs. Getting this story was going to take every bit of resolve I had.

  “I’m afraid to ask but does this mean you’ve made the final cut?”

  “You bet.” I lifted my glass, hissing under my breath. “Let the games begin.”

  Why did I have a feeling the bastard already thought he owned me?

  Chapter 3

  Sebastian

  Possession.

  The thought of possessing Caroline refused to go away.

  I could envision her body writhing underneath mine, her soft lips pursed, her eyes dancing in anticipation of all the dirty things I was going to do to her.

  Stroke her.

  Feast on her.

  Fuck her.

  But only if she was a good little girl.

  If my suspicions about her were correct, she was going to learn a dark and dangerous lesson that the men of the Extreme empire weren’t to be fucked with under any circumstances. I had to find out and tonight just might be the perfect method of doing so, albeit unconventional as fuck. The invitation had arrived at a convenient moment. The Gentlemen’s Club, the oldest all-male club in Chicago, where the rich and famous went to play.

  The game one of the original members had invented was at best unscrupulous. At worst? Immoral. Illicit. Maybe considered criminal. A way of handling business that was unacceptable under any circumstances in today’s world. But given the power and influence behind the guise of providing funding for businesses, no one dared to fuck with the spirited challenges.

  Just how would the feisty redhead handle the requirement?

  I laughed softly to myself. I was one evil son of a bitch.

  She’d accepted the money I’d provided, depositing the check into Delicious Confections’ bank account within two hours of the courier dropping it off. What she likely didn’t understand was that I already owned a piece of her. I’d purposely forced her to wait for a considerable period of time before sending the instructions regarding her appearance at the club.

  It was certainly her prerogative whether or not to participate.

  As
Chase walked into my office, the odd look on his face made me curious.

  Chase Cutler was cut from the same cloth I was.

  Aggressive.

  Bold.

  Unforgiving.

  “I just received an unusual email from Tredegar Industries. It would seem the deal that simply needed old man Tredegar’s signature might be dead. Do you want to tell what in the fuck is going on?”

  I thought about Martin Devon and laughed. It was obvious I’d taken his limited relationship with Richard Tredegar far too lightly. “I’ll handle it.”

  “Uh-huh,” he huffed. “Let me guess. You turned down the wrong candidate for the loan. I don’t know why we’re doing that shit anyway.”

  Sighing, I walked toward the window, staring out at the world below, all the little people scurrying to and from their daily routine. “The man was a pig as well as a lying sack of shit. Although he does have connections to Richard Tredegar, which is disconcerting. As far as the loan, it’s our way of giving back to the community.”

  “You mean a way to salvage our reputation. It’s never worked before.”

  I snorted as I looked at him. “You underestimate how the press can be manipulated. If you remember, providing a yearly loan was the recommendation from our attorney.”

  “Uh-huh. I was at that same meeting, Sebastian. It’s become a freak show more than anything. Did you see the morning paper?”

  “Let me guess. We’re being chastised for the second year in a row for pretending we give a damn.” I could give an interview, something I loathed but might be necessary in order to secure the contract with Tredegar. I’d worked for months on the deal, and it had nothing to do with the additional money. I didn’t want the property to fall into the wrong hands. The Chicago mafia had made an inroad to legalized activities five years before, following in our footsteps, even usurping two previous deals. I remained pissed off.