100 Days: A Billionaire Romance

by Alexis Angel

  I feel the first smile I’ve had in a long time spread over my lips, despite the terror that sends a shiver through me. I watch the way Giancarlo’s hands grip his glass and I'm transfixed by it. I realize now, fear washing over me, that when Tommy is okay and doesn’t owe Giancarlo Sandoval … I have to find a way to make it look like I did anything else but fuck a casino owning gangster to erase one of Tommy’s debts.

  I should have a better plan, but this is my only one. He owes Giancarlo Sandoval more than he owes anyone else, so I figured I should knock down this opponent before he does something to my brother. I'll worry about the rest and make more money, pull more shifts at the diner, and get him into a rehab facility so he can get help. One step at a time, I'm going to save us both.

  This is the thing about having to play dirty. I don’t want to do it, but I can and I will do it in this fucked up world to make sure something good like my brother and my only family gets to exist, and not fade away because Tommy very well may disappear if I don’t do something. I can’t handle him dying. And I can't be bothered to care about what others might think of what I’m doing because I need to take care of my brother.

  That includes that little voice in me that seems to get silenced when I stalk toward Giancarlo Sandoval. My mouth runs dry and I can’t believe I’m thinking about the size of those hands compared to various parts of my body. I’m thinking about what it might feel like if he touches me, and that’s so strange to me. I’ve never even fantasized about being with a man before. Now, the one man I've decided to sleep with, but who is also the last person I think I’d want to sleep with … I’m picturing what it would feel like to try and catch my breath because he's on top of me. I can’t breathe now.

  I want to clear this picture out of my mind.

  But maybe I should focus on how attractive this pig is. The man who would hurt my brother somehow turns me on, wrong as that is. But I need this feeling.

  I can use this feeling. Use this burning under my skin that makes my pulse speed up and play the role of the woman offering herself up to him even better than I could've imagined.

  I need to make him want me and I'd be lying if I told myself I didn't want him. I do. How could I not? He's damned attractive! It's certainly a part of how he gets away with everything he does; Giancarlo Sandoval is an unholy amount of charming. His charm takes the sensible part of a person, and melts it down to their core. Seriously, it feels like someone dropped an ice cube in my panties. If they did, the heat looking at this man could melt it. My stomach still turns, and twists even further, but I find that I kind of like the way that I can’t feel myself in control. It's like my brain is just a little too hazy at the notion of him touching me. Talking to him.

  I'm already wondering what his voice might sound like. I want to hear him say my name.

  Use this desire to get what you want. Be just like him. That’s what I tell myself. I have to think this way, and be ruthless.

  This is the only way to save Tommy from an impossible situation with an improbable plan.

  Now that I'm actually doing the deal, standing right beside Giancarlo, I’m motivated to feel confident. I let myself get caught up in the moment, and now my thoughts are taking me down a winding road where I can barely see past the headlights of what's coming next on this messy road. I’m already hazy-minded with growing lust. But this sense of being less in control now, urges me to play this game with every drop of resolve that I have.

  I have power, and I'm going to use it. I'm not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

  I can do this.

  It doesn’t feel so bad to be not as in control. There’s a thrill in me now. Somehow I’m taking the biggest gamble I've ever made in my life, and instead of being sick to my stomach, I’m exhilarated.

  But when I'm close enough to smell the fresh, masculine scent of him, I’m downright terrified.

  Oh, God, can I actually do this?

  Gian

  The lights and sounds of the Wicked Paradise Casino are the sort of dull roar that doesn’t even penetrate my senses. I shove my fingertips against the green velvet of the game board. Finger the ridges of a chip. Clench my fists so hard. Hold my cold glass, my skin drinking in the condensation. The voices of the people around the table fade away, everything does.

  Then one voice cuts through everything and it's like I’m feeling things for the first time.

  "I'm Lucy, and I want to make a deal." A feminine voice cuts through the crowd inside my casino and directly into my ears.

  I hear the sound of another person wanting something from me.

  Another person propositioning me. I get women all the time who think they can get money from me, get something shiny from me, all because I have this reputation. One that I don’t do anything to discredit, but that doesn’t serve me shit because I haven’t been with a woman in a very long time. I choose not to be. I have absolutely zero fucking interest in anything that flits in my direction.

  So why does something tug at me in this Lucy’s voice? Why does her request make me interested, when it should do the exact opposite?

  The air is thicker with the tension rolling off her, the shake in her voice so minor that a lesser man wouldn’t notice.

  But I’m no lesser man. I’m as skilled as they come in the arts of reading people, manipulating people, and getting what I want. My skills help me hear the conflict permeating her voice. The air seems thick with it.

  Lucy’s hate toward me emanates like dark curls of smoke…and I'm not interested in that. I don’t need more people around me who want something from me and openly despise me.

  “If you have just a moment for me,” Lucy says in a voice that is firm, but has the faintest tremble. Why does that bring life to my dead senses?

  I also hear the desperation in her voice and wonder what more there is to her story. That’s the part that interests me, and I don’t know why.

  The only needs I serve are my own. I learned a long time ago that the only way to keep myself strong and safe is to ruthlessly look out for only me. That’s served me pretty damn well — I own this casino, the Wicked Paradise, and near countless other holdings in my empire that I let my accountant worry about. I spend most of my days in this casino because it's the perfect coffin for me while I drink through every rotten day and everything seems to pass me by.

  It's been a long time since I cared about anything more than my empire, which I only treat as my distraction. It satisfies my urge to own things, control them, and build more power.

  So why the hell do I care about some honey-voiced girl who walks up to me and tells me she wants something?

  Desperation is everywhere, and normally I pay no attention to it unless I’m actively seeking to take advantage of it. But now? Now I find myself wanting to know why she’s desperate, and I have this creeping suspicion that I actually care beyond my own purposes.

  Why?

  How?

  I thought those parts of me died when I decided to care about nothing but my businesses. The last thing I cared about tried to destroy me. A wife, a woman, something so far in the past for me that I can’t be bothered to even think about them now. But I can’t help but see how I built everything I have by losing something I never had … and now this girl makes me start to want things that the last woman made me give up on.

  I turn to look at her. I have to see what face, what body the enchantress’s voice belongs to. Thoughts I may have had about ignoring her are deleted from my mind. She's fucking gorgeous. The most beautiful legs, luxurious dark hair, and the saddest eyes I've ever seen. Her hazel eyes want to be happy, but her body is tired. The soul behind her skin is aching. I go from not giving a fuck about her plight to feeling an intense ache to touch her. I haven't had a woman in years. I told myself that after my wife, that was a gamble I'd rather not make again. Women throw their pussies at me all the time, but I have no interest in some random fuck.

  Now I wonder what the hell long-legged Lucy wants. I can't breathe for
a second when she steps closer to me, and then I catch the scent of her like winter and cherries. Fuck, I want to taste her.

  "My brother owes your casino a lot of money. I'm offering you me in exchange for you erasing his debts. One night, and you cross out everything he owes, and I'll be keeping him from coming back." Her voice—she's trying so hard to be strong. But there's a pain that brings a waver. She's not asking for enough, and she's afraid I'll say no.

  But this woman is offering me the very thing I have to have from her the instant I laid eyes on her. Lucy doesn’t have to know that she turned my normally rational thoughts to cinders, and all I want is to fuck her. I mean, after all, she came here to offer me the one thing she thinks I care about more than anything. She’s telling me what matters to her more than anything.

  Of course I’m going to give it to her. She doesn’t have to know what an easy mark I was though … I want to play with her. Knowing I'm going to help her, I want to see her struggle just a little bit more. It'll make it taste even sweeter when I erase everything that troubles her.

  "What makes you think I'll just want to fuck you? I can fuck any woman I want, and I want my money." I don't know who her brother is, but if he owes me enough that Lucy is offering me her pussy, I doubt it's a small amount.

  "I'm a virgin," Lucy says with passion in her voice. Clearly a cover for the insecurity she faces at being a virgin — and because of that, I know she isn’t lying. That and the fear coming off her in waves. Fear that she's going to get turned down for what I know has to be her last resort offer.

  She's wearing what she probably thinks is the outfit to catch the kind of man whore she thinks I am. But there's far too much class in her simple outfit to just be slutty. A pencil skirt that hugs her so tightly it makes me want to tear it off. But if she's going for slut, it should be so much shorter. I find it delicious that she doesn’t know any better. Same with that little peek of flesh at the top of her silky blouse. This is how an attractive woman dresses, but the kind of trashy outfit you wear to get a man to forgive a huge debt is supposed to be much more sinful. It sells me even further on her purity. Either she’s the world’s best actress, or she’s desperate and unsure of what to do. My money’s on what I read, because I haven’t read someone wrong since the last woman I cared about.

  So Lucy put on this outfit and drug herself to me, to beg. She's trying to get my interest, and she's managed to succeed because if I don't get Lucy out of those clothes and into my bed, I'm going to fucking lose my mind.

  I take a deep breath and feign consideration, lifting my glass to my mouth and drinking down the rum. It should burn going down. It's one of many I've had tonight. But maybe it can be my last when I close this deal. I can't come off like the eager hound I am right now. I'll maintain my own affected smoothness and accept this deal without letting her know just how much I’m on her hook already.

  Fuck, what in the hell did I do to deserve such a goddamn angel on long porcelain legs?

  Of course. Her brother. He clearly has a problem. So it's Lucy’s pain for her brother that 'earned' me her offer.

  I make plenty of money on pain. It's the driver, the currency, and the blood in the veins of my empire.

  Lucy steps closer and I see the tops of her thigh-high stockings peeking from under her skirt. It's a tight pencil skirt—sexy as hell on her and the thigh highs are a very nice choice, but it already shows she has far more taste than any of the countless women who throw themselves at me all the time.

  The sight of her sexy, wrapped legs is when I know she's walked into my lion’s den and I'm going to devour her. Lucy knows she came to be my prey, but I know she has no idea what's in store for her.

  Her hand closes over mine as I let go of my glass. Her eyes capture mine; her head following me down and then up. She's got me, sure, but she has no idea how trapped she is. Her skin on mine makes electricity surge through every part of me that died when I gave up on love. Gave up on sex. But fuck if Lucy doesn't revive me and revive every urge that I’ve had dead for so long. My cock is steel in my suit trousers, but erections were never the problem.

  She's the first woman to make me give a single goddamn fuck about anything other than money. The sadness and pain in her calls me to her; her sorrow mirrors my own. I know that I’m only going to bring her more sorrow. She doesn’t want this. I’ve accepted the monster that I am, and I accept it again now. If the price for having Lucy is destroying her, I’ll accept myself for the monster I am again. I get what I want at any cost.

  "Sure, I'll erase his debt,” I tell Lucy, letting my eyes cascade over her face again.

  Her hands squeeze mine, and there's a grateful look in her eyes. And fear. So much fear. Her eyelashes flutter for a second. She inhales sharply.

  "But that's a lot of money,” I say in a low voice, even though no one is listening to us right now. It wouldn’t matter if they were. I get everything I want, and right now I want Lucy more than anything I’ve ever wanted. “I’m not keeping you for the night. I'm keeping you permanently."

  Gian

  That fear in her eyes fights with the hope that courses through her. How can she have so much fucking hope? I'm taking her whole life away and she's still thinking about how I'm going to help her save her brother.

  Squeezing my hand again urgently, she's trying not to sound like she's begging. Her voice is smooth. But I can smell that fear, see it with the hope in her hazel eyes. She’s fighting herself, but she’s going to win what she needs. I’m winning what I need. I try to look anywhere but at her lips when she continues. “If you're taking me that long, you're clearing all his debts, and you're getting him in rehab."

  Ballsy as fuck. I fucking love Lucy's strength now; I wonder if I say no just how hard she's going to push. But I hold back making her suffer, at least in that way, right now. I take her hand and slide it into my trouser pocket.

  No, baby girl, that cock so close you can feel the heat coming off it, is not what you're reaching for. Yet. I close her hand over my penthouse key. "This will get you in the room with the code," I tell her. I crook my finger indicating for her to lean down. When she does, that's when I stand so that she falls against me, and I pull her close. I can't help it; I need to feel her body now. Especially because I'm going to find out the deal with her brother before I take Lucy’s virginity. She’s mine now and I want her so goddamn bad, but I have to know what kind of a deal I’m making.

  Fuck, Lucy should be confirming this. She's got this big fucking plan and she's not even certain that I'm not just going to fuck her, and then not give two shits about her brother, or his debt.

  I'm not going to do that, but she doesn't know that.

  I don't think Lucy trusts me. I knew when she called me out that there was hate in her voice for me. But she has to trust me enough to believe I’m keeping my word. Well, that innocent way she hopes for the best is going to be her fucking undoing.

  For a second, that hope in her rubs off on me. I want her to enjoy me fucking her, but grandiose ideas form in my brain because a spitfire like her could be my queen.

  But that's far too much hope for a man like me to have. I can buy anything, have any woman, but when would I ever find a true partner who would trust me and matter so much more?

  I know that’s never going to happen because that's something you can't buy. And I'm buying Lucy.

  "The code is 9567," I whisper. That's the code that activates my cameras specifically for someone entering my penthouse with a given code. I'm a paranoid fuck, but this is certainly a much better use for the code than I ever thought I would need. "Wait for me, naked. I'll cancel your brother's debt to me now, and then I'll take what belongs to me."

  I bring a hand down the small of her back. I could be so lewd, but I let it fall without touching her more. I don't want her too scared.

  I’m about to leave her, even though I don’t want to, when someone breaks through the air around us. In a room full of people, I wouldn’t notice anyone else but thi
s person is shouting at Lucy.

  "What the hell are you doing here? With him?” an angry voice slurs, obviously drunk. I can tell by the hair, the eyes, that this is Lucy’s brother.

  “Tommy, look, you need help and I'm going to do the only thing I can do to help you get that--" Lucy says, and I know that’s the truth.

  Tommy cuts her off. "You want to put me in fucking rehab, I get it, but what's the point, Luce? I'm going to backslide right back into being a fuckin' disaster. If they think I ain't good for the money, then I'm taken care of, too. So, just let me be out of your hands, Lucy. You're wasting your whole fucking life on me--"

  "That's enough,” I interrupt this time. I won’t listen to anyone talk to Lucy this way. And I can’t take the way I see her tremble in pain at his words. “If you had any sense, Tommy, you'd listen to your sister instead of fucking, gambling, and drinking away what's good in your life. As of right now, you're a free goddamn man. Your sister can't say the same thing. She's willing to give up everything for you—and you're going to the best damn rehab there is." I put my hand on his shoulders and make him stand tall. This is fucking pathetic, how his sister will give up fucking everything and he'll just sooner wallow in nothing.

  Lucy's pain is palpable. I can't help myself, and I turn to stroke her cheek. She doesn't recoil, which after how she reacted toward me earlier, is really shocking. I can see a look of appreciation in her eyes. Fuck if I don't deserve that shit. Lucy's a goddamn angel and I'm an asshole willing to drag her down to hell.

  I look up at her from the drink I'm grabbing without thinking about it. I put it down without drinking it. I wanna be fucking better. I do. But I rarely even think about how much I drink and now suddenly I have the willpower to set down the drink and call it a night. "I'm going to make sure Tommy is well taken care of. He'll go to the best facility. Now."