The Love of Money II
Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch
Chapter 25: Collateral
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 25: Collateral - Marcus and the others are no longer just surviving the world—they’re shaping it. Erin has always known what she wants. Now she’s orchestrating it. Helen is learning that submission isn’t surrender. Bobbi, stripped of her old identity, stands at a crossroads. New women cross his path. Old ones return. Some hand him their heart. Some, a leash. Some, a knife in the back. And then there are the ones waiting for him to stumble. It's hard to rest when you have a target painted on your back.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Coercion Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Rags To Riches BDSM DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Light Bond Rough Sadistic Spanking Group Sex Harem Orgy Interracial Black Female White Female Oriental Female Indian Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Exhibitionism Facial Massage Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Sex Toys Squirting Voyeurism Big Breasts Small Breasts Slow Violence
I entered the study and shut the door, hoping I didn’t reek of sex.
It was bad enough that my hand was coated in Natalie’s arousal from fingering her after the dungeon, but as soon as Natalie had taken off, Erin appeared and decided I needed to be taken care of.
Fifteen minutes later, after some sanitizer and a spritz of cologne, I’d done my best to erase all signs that I’d wandered through a sexual playground on my way to see Phoebe. Even if I was her only hope, a twinge of guilt fired off as I spotted her standing by the fireplace, rubbing her arms together and looking anxious as she waited for news about her kid.
She turned as soon as she heard the door shut, a mixture of hope and trepidation written across her face.
“Marcus!”
“Hey, Phoebe,” I said, slipping my hands in my pockets as I took a few steps into the room.
She approached me, still hugging herself. “Erin said you had news?”
I nodded, halting a few feet away from her, self-conscious that she might notice a stain or smell. “Yeah,” I said. “I have a private investigator on retainer. After I left last night, I had him track down Jim. The good news is that he sucks at hiding his tracks. My guy found him in hours. He’s in a town not far from your hometown in South Dakota.”
Phoebe put a hand to her mouth and gasped. “He always hated it there! Why would...”
She trailed off as she looked past me, lost in thought.
“Not sure what he’s doing there,” I said when it looked like Phoebe wasn’t going to finish her question, “but both of them are fine. My guy has a man watching them, and if Jim leaves, he’ll follow them. For now, they’re in a cheap motel.”
“God.” Phoebe put a hand to her forehead, clearly upset. “They’re already so far away ... and Jim’s probably just feeding Nate junk out of vending machines.”
My first thought was that eating junk out of vending machines and staying in motels might seem like a cool adventure for a little kid, but Nate was severely attached to Phoebe, and Jim didn’t have the temperament to deal with toddlers. I doubted that eating candy for dinner would placate the kid all that much.
“What happens next?” Phoebe asked.
“Well,” I said, “We could get the cops involved ... have them show up and do a wellness check. The problem is, Jim is Nate’s legal guardian, so I don’t know that there’s much the police could do unless Nate has...”
I didn’t want to upset her by finishing that sentence.
“ ... signs of abuse,” Phoebe finished my thought.
“We could try it,” I said, giving her a tense smile.
“Is that my only option?”
“Well,” I said, hesitating as I considered the best way to describe the next option. “I could get my guy to bring Nate back for you. We could probably have him back in less than twenty-four hours.”
“That,” Phoebe snapped at the idea. “That one.”
“Well, it comes with some problems—”
“Please, Marcus,” Phoebe said, stepping closer as she stared up at me through dark lashes. “I want my son back.”
“I know,” I said. She was close enough for me to lay a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it gently. “It’s just that ... it could be perceived as kidnapping, and we could end up facing serious legal troubles.”
“Like ... they could take my baby away?” Phoebe’s voice sounded on the verge of cracking. “How is that fair? Jim took him!”
“No,” I said. “I wouldn’t let that happen. I’ve got an army of lawyers who could bury him in court fees. We would win. You just need to know that there could be complications if we do it that way.”
“But I’ll get him back?” Phoebe asked.
If Psalter could extract me from the middle of Norwegian forests, kidnapping a small child from his father would be a cakewalk.
“My guys are good at this sort of thing.”
Phoebe stared back at the fire and contemplated her options, and I took the opportunity to admire her half Native American features. Firelight danced in her golden eyes, and pearlescent white flashed as her teeth worried at her bottom lip. She was in shape for a stay-at-home mom and had a natural beauty that was characteristic of a woman in her early thirties, who was showing signs of maturity. On closer inspection, I could see remnants of her youthful twenties still lingering in her face. ‘Wholesomely beautiful’ was a perfect term to describe her.
“If the police show up,” she finally said, “Jim will leave as soon as they’re gone.”
She finally looked back at me. “Just get him back to me, Marcus. I don’t want anyone hurt. I just want Nate. I’ll worry about the rest later. Can you do that?”
I nodded. “Of course. I’ll have them move on it as soon as possible and notify me once he’s safe. How does that sound?”
Phoebe fell the remaining few steps between us and crashed into my chest, wrapping her slender arms around me and squeezing tight. “Thank you, Marcus!”
I hesitated a moment before settling my arms around her waist. I clasped my hands at the small of her back and nestled my nose into her hair. Our embrace was more intimate than it had any right to be. Before I was wealthy, we’d always resorted to small talk in the hallway and an occasional hug, but we’d never been close enough to hold each other like this.
Well, except when she kissed me the last time I was in my old apartment. At the time, Jim had been in the picture, and they’d clearly had a falling out. Now that her husband had run away, I was acutely aware that their relationship was over, leaving me holding an eligible and exceedingly attractive single mother in the middle of my office ... alone.
There wasn’t anything overtly sensual about the way we held onto each other—just a grateful woman hugging the man who was helping get her child back. I kept reminding myself of that as I felt her press herself into me and sigh. Thank God I’d fucked Erin before coming in here. It meant there wasn’t a risk of Phoebe feeling what would have been a guaranteed boner after remembering that kiss we’d shared.
I pressed my lips into the top of her head and murmured, “Don’t worry, Phoebe. My guys will get Nate back safely, and by this time tomorrow, he’ll be back with you.”
She looked up, forcing me to lift my face from her hair just in time to keep my lips from brushing her forehead.
“Thank you,” she said with a watery smile. She blinked back tears. “You’ve been so good to me ... I don’t know what I would’ve done...”
“It’s no problem,” I said.
“Once I have him back, I’ll start looking for places to stay ... and a job.”
“Do you not like your apartment?” I asked.
“It’s so nice,” Phoebe said, “but I can’t stay there. It’s way too expensive to—”
“Like I said ... don’t worry about it. It’s yours, if you want.”
“I can’t—”
“And you don’t have to look for a job, either.”
After all the time spent watching Phoebe put up with Jim’s crap, wishing there was something I could do, I felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction at heaping blessings on her ... making up for my inability to help in the past.
She looked like she was about to cry. “You know I can’t do that.”
“You can if I’m asking you to. It’s the least I can do after watching how he treated you over the last year or two.”
“That’s not on you.”
“Just let me do this,” I said.
“Marcus ... it’s too much!”
That was fair. I probably would have felt the same way. “What if I offered you a job and made your apartment part of your pay?”
She searched my face as if looking for any sign that I was playing some kind of cruel joke on her. Finally, she said, “Are you serious?”
“Of course,” I said.
“What kind of job?”
I hadn’t gotten that far. Based on what I knew of Phoebe, she didn’t have much in the way of business skills—she’d always been a stay-at-home wife and mom. I knew she was good with plants, and kept a clean and tidy house ... and I did have a massive house, as well as a really nice rooftop garden.
“My housekeeper is a little short-staffed and could probably use some extra help. I’ve also got a garden that needs to be maintained. Interested?”
She didn’t immediately respond, and as I met her gaze, I could feel as if she were searching for something.
Eventually, she buried her face in my chest and began openly weeping.
I hesitated, my hands hovering over her back, unsure whether to wrap them around her or not. “Is ... that a yes?”
She nodded emphatically, keeping her face buried in my shirt as she cried.
I eased my arms around her shoulders again and simply let her unload all of her emotions. After all, she’d just found out she was getting her kid back after having him stolen from her, had acquired a job, and a place to live ... all in one fell swoop. I couldn’t blame her for being overwhelmed.
As for me ... it felt fucking fantastic to do something completely selfless for someone in need without expecting anything in return.
It felt gloriously human.
A few minutes later, I opened the door to my study to escort Phoebe back to her room when I saw Helen, Erin, and Henry Psalter waiting. Psalter and Helen looked deep in discussion, but Erin was simply leaning against the wall, waiting for us, wearing a red and white striped bikini which had been on Bobbi until recently.
Phoebe was a little taken aback by the presence of all the people near the door, but Erin kept her attention as she bounced off the wall and approached us. “I hope those are happy tears!”
My ex-neighbor gave her a weepy smile. “They are.” Then she hesitated, looking Erin up and down. “Is that a different suit?”
“Wardrobe malfunction,” Erin said dismissively. “So ... you guys have a solution?”
“We do,” I said.
“Mrs. Lucas,” Helen said, stepping next to Erin. “I’m Helen VanCamp—Mr. Upton’s lawyer.” She offered Phoebe a hand.
Phoebe hesitated and then shook her hand.
“Forgive the attire. I was invited to Mr. Upton’s homecoming celebration.”
“The party,” Phoebe said. “Erin told me.”
“Yes. I’ll be advising him on the best course of action from a legal standpoint so that we can minimize any impact his actions might incur.”
“Thank you,” Phoebe said.
“Erin,” I said. “Why don’t you escort Phoebe back to her room while I talk to Mrs. VanCamp?”
“Will-do, boss,” Erin said.
Phoebe and Erin left, with the former giving me one more grateful hug and a whispered thank you before departing. Once they were out of sight, Helen, Psalter, and I retreated into the study.
“Erin and Henry filled me in on the details,” Helen said as she slunk her way into the center of the room, still dressed in her red bikini, collar, and nothing else. She turned and fixed me with an inquisitive stare. “What are you considering?”
“I told her we had two options: call it in and let the authorities do what they can or let Psalter’s people bring the kid back to his mom.”
“And which one did she prefer?”
“Psalter.”
“And of course, you’re calling the authorities,” Helen said. It wasn’t a question.
I started to protest, but Henry spoke ahead of me.
“The child is with his father, and the mother hasn’t reported him missing. Unless young Nate looks like he’s taken a tumble down the stairs or run into a door, there’s nothing law enforcement can do.”
“He can’t kidnap the boy,” Helen argued.
Psalter leveled a deadpan stare at Helen and tipped his beer bottle in my direction. “He’s the wealthiest man in the world by a considerable margin. He can do whatever he wants.”
Helen planted her hands on her hips. “So, stealing him from his father is the best option?”
“No,” Psalter said. He took a sip of his beer. “His best option is not getting involved.”
“That’s not happening,” I interjected.
“And since that’s not happening,” Psalter continued, “his best course of action is to let my man do his job. Nate will be whisked away like a ghost with Jim none the wiser until he wakes up with no desire to call the authorities or file a report.”
“How are you going to get a father not to file a missing persons report?” I asked.
Henry looked at me gravely and said, “You’re better off not knowing.”
“You’re claiming that what you’re going to do can’t be traced back to Marcus?” Helen said, looking skeptical.
“I never said that,” Psalter said. He sounded as if he were explaining his job to a twelve-year-old. “Nothing is completely untraceable in this day and age of geolocation, CCTV, and cashless commerce. I’m simply saying that if I handle it, it will be as close to removed from Marcus as possible. The weakest link will be his association with Mrs. Lucas after the fact.”
Psalter turned his attention back to me. “What will you do with them after the boy’s returned?”
“I offered her a job here.”
Henry’s face fell much more than I thought it could. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“No,” Psalter said. His answer sounded more like a judge pronouncing a sentence than an employee talking to his employer.
“No?” I asked.
“You’re opening yourself to too much risk. If someone sees Nate Lucas in this building after he disappeared and puts the pieces together, you could be looking at—”
“Being charged with kidnapping?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure Helen’s people could handle something like that, right?”
“No,” Psalter said, unfazed by my cutting him off. “Living under a microscope. Forget being charged with simple kidnapping. You’d have phones wiretapped, information subpoenaed, people tailing you all the time. Your life will be dissected, observed, and analyzed for weaknesses by one of your enemies—people with resources to actually fight back in any arena you want to engage in, legal or otherwise. They’re out for blood, and they have enough of it already.”
“So, what do you suggest? I have to do something.”
“Send the authorities,” Helen said, starting to sound like a broken record.
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m not kidding, Marcus! You’re risking exposure and vulnerability for something so low-stakes.”
“Low-stakes? The kid—”
“Is with his father,” Helen said. “It’s not like he’s being trafficked.”
Helen had a lot of strengths, but motherly instincts weren’t one of them, and it showed.
“So you both think it’s best to do nothing?” I asked.
They exchanged glances, and Psalter said, “More often than not, the wisest course of action is not getting involved when you don’t have to.”
“That’s not an option,” I huffed. “I told her I would help.”
“Change your mind,” Helen said.
I leveled my gaze at her, and my tone took on a hard edge. “No.”
Helen’s look of stubborn professionalism cracked as she seemed to remember that while her guidance was valuable, her word wasn’t final.
“Jesus,” I said, placing my hands on the backs of one of the chairs and leaning against it as if I were physically weary. “I have all the money in the world ... you’d think it would buy me a solution.”
“You have a solution,” Psalter said. “You can get the boy on a plane tonight, but he can’t come here.”
“Your vacation home,” Helen said, sounding defeated.
I eyed her. “What?”
“No one is there. My understanding is that they finished cleaning it up after the break-in last month. The locks have been changed, and the security systems have been updated so that only you have access. Send them there. She can take care of the place for you.”
That ... wasn’t a completely terrible idea.
“Kind of isolated up there,” I pointed out.
“If you retrieve Nate the way she wants, they should be in hiding,” Psalter said. “She should understand that. You might even be able to arrange trips for her back to New York. Given time, you can probably transition her back full-time. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than them staying at your main residence.”
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll do that.”
“She’ll be amenable?” Henry asked.
“She wants her kid back. If she has to go into hiding in a vacation home in the mountains for a while, I’m sure I’ll find a way to convince her. It’s not exactly a gulag.”
We took a few more minutes to work through some of the logistics before Psalter finally left to execute the plan, leaving Helen and me alone. Even after the door shut, she stayed where she was, leaning against the side of my desk, staring at me in obvious discontent.
“What?” I asked.
“Someone tried to kill you,” Helen said. “I wish you wouldn’t give someone else a reason to come after you.”
“Jim’s hardly a threat,” I said.
“Jim Lucas isn’t the one I’m worried about. Hiro Tanaka is out there.”
“I have Tanaka’s son.”
“That’s only going to piss him off more. Besides, he’s not the only one. There’s whoever is behind Bell and Brantwood ... the entire Gerrard clan doesn’t seem to like you ... not to mention my husband.”
“Ex-husband,” I corrected. That wasn’t technically true, but to everyone that mattered, it might as well have been. She was mine, now.
The word ‘Ex’ seemed to convey that very meaning. Helen’s expression softened a little.
“I l...” She stuttered on a word and then changed tack. “I’m just concerned that if the wrong people find out about this, it could only lead to more problems, and you have enough already.
“Phoebe needs my help, and I’m going to help her. I’ve changed, Helen—a lot. It’s been necessary change, and a lot of it’s been good for me, but there’s still a core part of who I am that I don’t want to change—helping people like Phoebe who have real problems. I’m not perfect, but I need situations like this to remind me of who I am, deep down.”
“I understand,” Helen sighed. “I just...”
“If there’s legal issues, you and Karl will fix it. It’s what I pay you for.”
Helen grimaced. “We’re not magicians, Marcus.”
“You can deal with this, though, right? I’m sure you’ve done way worse than this.”
“Oh, we have,” Helen admitted. She hesitated, then said, “To be honest, this is all very pedestrian by comparison.” She stepped toward me and rested a perfectly manicured hand against my chest. Her eyes flashed as she met my gaze, and I had the sudden urge to kiss her. “I suppose I’m more emotionally engaged with this client compared to our others.”
“I understand,” I said. “This client is particularly fond of their primary lawyer.” I reached up to stroke the back of my fingers along Helen’s jaw. “Maybe we should just let Karl get someone to handle it.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Helen said softly, turning her head to brush her lips against my fingers.
“Good,” I said, capturing her mouth for a brief kiss. “I need to get back to the party, but first, what did you do with Bobbi?”
Helen’s look of soft concern melted into a wicked smile. “I finished her punishment, made her eat me out, and then tied her back onto her saddle. Leaving it on low vibration for a while might remind her that when she’s given a command, she should obey it.”
The thought of Bobbi being forced to go through hours of low-level vibrations on her cunt sounded delicious. The image of her strapped to her knees reminded me of something else I’d meant to discuss with her mistress.
“Oh ... one more thing.”
“Sir?” She asked, her interest piqued.
“I’m thinking of taking Bobbi off birth control.”
Whatever irritation remained in Helen’s features dissipated completely.
“Go on,” she said. I had her undivided attention.
A few minutes later, Helen and I left the study and made our way back toward the main foyer/living room. My lawyer had a thoughtful little smile as she stared at the floor, likely imagining how Bobbi would take the news. I still wasn’t quite sure how to tell her. Part of me suspected that she would balk at the idea of carrying my child, but another part of me wondered if she might come to accept it ... or even like the idea. After all, being the mother to my child meant that her place was more cemented here—that there would be less of a chance of me kicking her out of my home if I had the whim ... something that still seemed to occasionally haunt her.
I hadn’t exactly done anything to suggest that I would banish her. In fact, I thought that we were moving past some of our earlier issues, but while Bobbi still balked at commands and snapped at me sometimes, some of that seemed to stem from insecurity ... like she was afraid of losing the privilege she’d acquired. Perhaps having a kid would help continue to smooth out more of her rough edges.
It would certainly give her something else to do.
“Need anything else from me?” Helen asked as we entered the living room.
“I don’t think so,” I said, scanning the room. Erin had been right ... some of the people from the rooftop had migrated inside. Most of my couch space was taken up with guests, and I heard laughter drift from somewhere out of sight.
The people sitting on the couches included Shea, Camille, William (her fiance), Ian, Charity...
“Hey! There you are.”