ENTRANCED
THE ROGUES SERIES BOOK 1
Tracie Delaney
Contents
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Books by Tracie Delaney
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
FROM ME TO YOU
Books by Tracie Delaney
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Acknowledgments
About Tracie Delaney
Copyright © 2020 Tracie Delaney
Edited by StudioEnp
Edited by Delphine Noble-Fox
Cover art by Tiffany @TEBlack Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in uniform or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Books by Tracie Delaney
The Winning Ace Series
Ace - A Winning Ace Novella
Winning Ace
Losing Game
Grand Slam
Winning Ace Boxset
Mismatch
Break Point - A Winning Ace Novella
Stand-alone
My Gift To You
Draven
The Brook Brothers Series
The Blame Game
Against All Odds
His To Protect
Web of Lies
The Brook Brothers Complete Boxset
Irresistibly Mine Series
Tempting Christa
Avenging Christa
Full Velocity Series
Friction
Gridlock
Inside Track
Full Velocity Boxset (Books 1-3)
ROGUES Series
Entranced
Enraptured
Entrapped
Enchanted
Enthralled
Enticed
ENTRANCED
Athena
Have you ever loved anyone so much that you’d give them up at the expense of your own happiness?
No? Well, I did.
Okay, that’s not the first lie I’ve ever told myself. I fought tooth and nail for the only man I’ll ever love, but in the end, I had to concede defeat.
Even now, seven years later, the cruel words Ryker uttered the morning after he took my virginity still wield the power to shatter the remains of my heart.
Yet fate has a way of shaping our lives.
No matter how hard we fight for a different outcome.
Ryker
Have you ever feared losing someone so much you’d give up the only woman who made your heart race?
No? Well, I have.
She holds the power to bring my entire world crashing down, which is why I’ve spent the last seven years forgetting she exists.
And until today, I’d succeeded.
But time isn’t a healer, she’s a cruel mistress.
One who won’t be ignored.
1
Ryker
I entered the club via a set of stairs covered in threadbare carpeting that stuck to my shoes, evidence of years of spilled drinks and trodden-in food. As the narrow stairwell gave way to a large open-plan space, the first thing to greet me was a thick blanket of smoke, the orange tips of cigarettes lighting the room like a bunch of concertgoers holding up their mobile phones on command. The acrid smell sank into the weave of my bespoke Alexander Amosu suit and burned the back of my throat. Through the haze, I made out an outline of a half-naked woman gyrating around a pole, a bunch of sweaty men watching her with their tongues hanging out. One made a grab for her calf, but she nimbly slipped out of reach.
The United States got many things wrong, but banning smoking wasn’t one of them. Unfortunately, not every country had yet capitulated; Japan—my current location—being one of them. A toothless law had been bound into the constitution a couple of years ago, but it paid lip service to the problem. The tobacco industry exuded far too much power for a blanket ban.
“Change number one. Enforce a smoking ban,” I yelled to my best friend and business partner, Elliot Bancroft, over the heavy beat of dance music. I fanned my hand in front of my face to try to clear my vision. “This is my favorite suit, yet now I might have to dump it in the trash the second I get back to the hotel room. Even a miracle worker won’t get the stench out.”
Elliot sniggered. “Turnover will take a hit. Smoking is entrenched in the very fabric of Japan.”
I shrugged. Made no difference to me. I liked swimming against the tide. Not conforming to societal rules attracted curiosity. Besides, when I converted this club from a sleazy, rat-infested hovel to a classy dance joint worthy of the Poles Apart brand, if it fell on its ass, it wouldn’t even make a dent in the number of zeros in my bank account. Hell, if every business I owned went into liquidation tomorrow, I’d still have more money than ninety-eight percent of the world’s population.
How had I amassed such wealth at the tender age of twenty-eight, you might ask? A stroke of luck as it turned out. Six college buddies, bored with what the education system offered, dabbled in gaming apps. The thrill of creating a fun product from scratch was a far more interesting pastime than sitting in lecture halls listening to dull professors blather on as they tried, in vain, to impart information that was about as useful in the real world as my cock to a lesbian.
The first few apps crashed and burned. Then, for a reason none of us have ever managed to figure out, one of them took off, went viral, and ROGUES. Inc was born. Now, seven years later, me and five of my closest friends were among the richest men in the world, living the ultimate dream.
In case you were wondering about our company name, ROGUES simply spelled the initials of our first names. Me (Ryker), Oliver, Garen, Upton, Elliot—my current companion and best friend since kindergarten—and Sebastian.
The acronym, though, holds more than a modicum of truth. We are rogues. Every one of us.
Except for one.
Oliver.
But that was a very long, complicated story without a happy ending.
The rest of the fabulous five? Testosterone-fueled young men with the world at our feet and, hell, do we take advantage of our privileged positions.
If we’d taken more time to brainstorm, we might have come up with something slicker, but after the money started rolling in, we’d had to create somewhere to funnel it, and quick. Elliot originally floated the idea of playing around with the initials of our first names, and Sebastian figured out the order to form a suitable word.
I hadn’t always had money to burn. Far from it. Growing up, it had just been Mom and me after my father died before I could talk. She’d worked three jobs to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. She might not have been around as much as I’d have liked, but I knew I was loved. And besides, the lack of material possessions had lit a fire within me, a desperate burn to achieve success. I worked my ass off at school, achieved a scholarship to college, and the rest, as they say, is history.
This was my first trip to Japan. I tended to spend most of my time traveling The Triangle, as I’d nicknamed it: New York, London, Paris. I owned luxury homes in each location, my favorite destination changing in line with my mood. Over the years, I’d gained a reputation as a workaholic, the theory being that my poor upbringing drove me to chase an even greater bank balance, despite the fact that the interest I earned in a year would comfortably keep me for the rest of my life.
That belief was wrong.
It was distraction I sought. The work gave me a shot at diverting my attention away from her. The woman who could bring my whole world crashing down.
“Let’s get a drink.” I pointed my chin at the crowded bar.
“You don’t want to find Tanaka?” Elliot asked, referring to the manager of this establishment.
Manager… for now.
Assessing staff performance was one of the primary tasks I carried out when I made a business purchase, and given what I’d seen so far, Hiroto Tanaka wasn’t exactly making a good first impression: dirty, uncleared tables, customers without a drink, a bad bar offering. Barely legal girls offering far more than a sexy dance for sweaty, overweight men puffing away on a cigar, their leering gazes roving slowly over too much exposed skin.
A man snorting coke off a woman’s exposed breasts drew my attention. Yep, this place needed an overhaul of its clientele if it was to truly fulfil its potential—and my vision—as the club in Tokyo for men to hang out, drink quality alcohol, and watch attractive women dance. The location couldn’t be better, but its current setup wouldn’t do. The Poles Apart brand oozed class, hence the name, and by the time my team had finished, this place would, too.
“Not yet,” I said, answering Elliot’s earlier question regarding Tanaka.
We weaved through the crowds and located a space at the end of the bar. I held up my hand to the bartender.
“Two iced waters,” I said.
The bartender slapped down a couple of napkins and snorted a laugh. “Living it up, huh, my man? Come on. Let yourself go. This is the place.”
I stared pointedly at the Aussie surfer dude, my gaze cold, unwavering. He was probably working here to fund the next leg of his trip around the world, a way to stave off adulthood for a little while longer, yet by my reckoning, he was closer to thirty than twenty.
He broke first and turned away muttering, probably something about what an asshole he thought I was.
Buddy, you have no idea.
The bartender slammed two glasses of water on the bar and moved on to the next waiting customer.
“Lots to do,” Elliot said, his gaze drifting around the club.
I sipped my water. “Exactly as I like it.”
I cast my eyes along the bar, assessing the type of customer my new club presently attracted. Middle-aged men, dissatisfied with their lives, dipping into their meager retirement funds for a moment of oblivion.
Not the dynamic I intended to create at all. I was after the new money, nouveau riche like myself, young men who would think nothing of dropping a hundred grand on a single night, who’d pay ten G’s for a bottle of wine without blinking.
“Bartender is skimming,” I said, drawing Elliot’s attention away from the room and back to me.
His brows formed a deep V, his eyes narrowing into barely there slits. “You sure?”
“Positive. Payment for every third customer gets passed to his counterpart at the other end of the bar.”
Elliot sensibly kept his eyes on me, knowing any suspicious behavior might tip-off the bartender before I played my hand. And that would be such a shame.
“You wanted to buy this place,” he deadpanned.
I smirked. “You know me. I like a challenge.”
A scuffle broke out a few feet in front of us, an argument over one of the girls. One of the men punched the other, and he fell backward onto the table. The wood splintered, gave way, and broken glass littered the floor.
I watched with veiled interest as the security team launched into action—too late in my opinion. Good security identified and resolved issues before they got out of hand. This bunch of assholes seemed more interested in creating war than engendering peace.
The offenders were dragged off, their vocal protests fading into the ether. The girl in question dusted herself down, huffed at a tear in her panty hose, then stomped off.
“Is it too late to ask for a refund?” Elliot broke into a shit-eating grin.
“Nothing here I haven’t seen before. Remember Budapest?”
“Do I ever,” Elliot said. “I thought the manager was gonna stick you when you gave him his cards.”
I snorted. “He could have tried. All this place needs is the right leadership. I already have a manager in mind. By the time I’ve finished, this joint will fit nicely alongside my others.”
Elliot pulled his lips to one side. “Why are you even in this field? It’s not like you visit to watch the girls dance, and it only makes spending money compared with, say, our distribution business.”
“One man’s spending money is another man’s riches,” I replied. “And if you bothered to check out the latest balance sheet for this part of the group, you’d see it’s providing an incredible return on the original investment. Sex sells, my friend, even when you’re only allowed to look and not touch. At least at my clubs, the women are protected, well paid, and we take out the trash.” I arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want me to remove the Poles Apart brand from the ROGUES portfolio and take it independent?”
“I didn’t say that,” Elliot hastily said, his interest greater now I’d mentioned it was making money. “I’ve just never understood the why of it, that’s all.”
“Does there have to be a why? The bottom line makes sense. Not a fortune, but enough to make it worthwhile, and the latest growth projections are impressive. There’s nothing more to my interest than that.” I scanned around, my gaze alighting on Tanaka coming out of a room with a young woman in tow. And when I said young, I meant far too fucking young.
He had a firm grip of her wrist and was tugging her behind him as if she were his pet dog. She stumbled, almost losing her footing. He yanked on her arm so hard, it surprised me he didn’t pull it right out of the socket.
“I need a favor,” I said.
Elliot followed my line of sight, his jaw tightening, his lips almost disappearing into a white slash as he spotted what had caught my attention. Elliot despised violence of any kind against women. Don’t get me wrong. None of us stood for that shit, but Elliot’s response was more visceral. Understandable considering that up until the age of eight, he’d lived in a violent home, his nightmare only coming to an end when his father beat his mother so badly, she finally plucked up the courage to get help. After that, Elliot’s life vastly improved. His father had been given a twelve-y
ear stretch, never to be heard of again, and his mom remarried a really good man who Elliot and his sister, Athena, thought of as their real dad.
“Want me to take that fucker out back and teach him some manners?” Elliot bit out.
I shook my head. “Go purchase an hour with the girl. Talk to her. If she can’t speak English, call Jirou and get him to translate.”
Jirou was one of my trusted advisors, and a very useful man to know especially given that he spoke nine languages. I’d have brought him to Japan, but he was taking a well-earned vacation with his family.
“I want the skinny on the type of establishment our friend is running here. It’ll make for useful leverage when things turn nasty.”
Entranced (The ROGUES Billionaire Series Book 1) Page 1
