The Love of Money II
Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch
Chapter 40: My Way
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 40: My Way - 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
Friday, September 27th, 8:20 pm
It’s amazing how fast the weather can turn. One moment you’re enjoying a mild fall afternoon; the next, the sky’s threatening to dump a small ocean on your head.
It felt like a metaphor.
The air had chilled since the last time I was up here, lying in a hammock with Charity. I pulled my sweatshirt hood over my head and sank deeper into the outdoor couch. The retractable awning was already out—my only shield against the storm rolling in.
I rolled the beer bottle between my palms, my mind drifting over everything that had just happened. Reynolds. Bobbi. Desai’s murder. Ryo Tanaka. And the possibility that someone inside my own house was working against me.
Someone had planted something in Erin’s office for Reynolds to find. Or ... Reynolds simply had it and claimed he found it in the search.
It was one of the only explanations that made sense, wasn’t it? Nothing else made sense.
I couldn’t suspect Erin—not realistically. She’d been the one to tell me Reynolds found it. Why would she report something she planted?
Besides, if I started doubting Erin, who else did I have left? I trusted her more than almost anyone—maybe more than anyone except Emily.
No. Suspecting my own inner circle was the last thing I wanted to do. At least ... without good fucking reason.
On the other hand, that was exactly the sort of mistake that got powerful people killed.
Who else had access to Erin’s office?
Me. Helen.
That was it.
Jessica crossed my mind, but Erin would’ve skinned her alive for touching anything in that space. My assistant was territorial about her office—nobody touched it except me or Helen. Even then, she cringed if we moved things around too much.
“Hey.”
I peered out from under my hood. Chloe approached, carrying a six-pack of assorted beers.
“Hey,” I said.
She nodded at the beer bottle in my hand. “Heard you came up with only one. Thought you could use more.”
“Bless you.”
Chloe.
That was another person with access to Erin’s study. But suspecting her felt about as ridiculous as suspecting Erin.
My bodyguard plucked out a bottle, did some sleight-of-hand trick I didn’t quite catch, and the metal cap pinged across the rooftop. She handed me the fresh beer; I took it gratefully.
She opened one for herself, repeating the move, and sat beside me with that effortless, predatory grace of hers.
“How’s the footage?” I asked.
Chloe took a long drink. “It’s a slog.”
I stared at the rooftop as the first small droplets began to darken the surface.
“That one camera in the hallway is the only legitimate way we have to see who’s been in Erin’s office,” she said. “Sure would’ve been nice to have one inside.”
My lips pressed into a thin line. The implication wasn’t wrong.
Early in my transition from plebeian to one of the richest men alive, I’d pushed back hard on some of Chloe’s security recommendations, like installing cameras in certain private rooms. Bedrooms. Bathrooms. My study. Erin’s office. She tried to insist, but I was the boss. Now, trying to figure out who the fuck tampered with Erin’s office, I regretted choosing privacy over security.
“How far have you gotten?”
Thunder rolled through the sky like some massive animal’s low growl.
“We started with today’s camera recordings,” Chloe said. “When I left, they were already back to September fifth.”
“Huh,” I murmured. “Back in a simpler time.”
“You’re not wrong,” she said.
We were still in Scotland then—just before Astrid reached out about Tanaka. It felt like years ago, not weeks.
“I think I’d rather be back in that forest than dealing with all this,” I said.
Chloe snorted.
“You don’t agree?” I asked.
“Fuck no.” She took another sip, then gave me that hard, unreadable look of hers ... except around the eyes, where something faint—possibly amusement—flickered.
I was beginning to think I might finally be cracking the code of Chloe Tanner.
Lightning flashed through the clouds. The rain came down harder. I hugged my knees to my chest and watched the storm bloom.
“Come on,” I said, resting my chin on my knees. “It wasn’t all bad. Even you have to admit that.”
“I don’t have to admit shit.”
I grinned. God, I missed talking to her like this.
“Then why did you do it?”
Chloe side-eyed me. “Do what?”
“The other night. The closet.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Upton.”
She stared into the rain for a long beat. Then she glanced the other way—checking for anyone else nearby.
When she looked back at me, her voice was low. “I forgot how good it was.”
I wanted to gloat, but I knew Chloe wouldn’t respond well to that, so I just nodded and took a sip of beer.
“I didn’t know you were into girls,” I said.
“Jesus Christ.” The glare she threw me could’ve knocked over a grown man.
I held up my hands defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying ... I wasn’t the only one in there.”
If my memory served, I was pretty sure Chloe, the mystery woman in the closet, had gone down on Charity. I knew for certain that they made out...
“I’m not.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“There’s a few women,” Chloe said, “that I wouldn’t mind hooking up with.”
“Charity is one of them?”
She met my gaze. “I would wreck that girl if I had the chance.”
“Damn,” I said, my imagination going wild—Chloe and I spending a sleepless night with my submissive little PR girl between us.
Instant Boner.
“Just Charity?”
Chloe shrugged.
“I would’ve thought that if you were into anyone, it would’ve been Tara, as fit as she is.”
“She’s hot,” Chloe said. “I wouldn’t kick her out of bed. Almost too perfect, though.”
“Hm.” I let my head fall back against the couch cushion, wondering how the hell a woman could be too perfect to spend the night with.
And then a memory resurfaced.
“Remember when we toured the plane?”
Her face contorted into a frown. “All too well. Someone pulled a gun on you in that cafe.”
That was a sore point for her, so I moved past it. “You left me alone with Helen and Erin in one of those back rooms.”
“Yeah. You were getting handsy. Figured you needed some space.”
“They were talking about you joining the three of us.”
“They can keep talking.”
“Not interested?”
“Erin’s an oversexed brat—worse than you, sometimes. I respect the hell out of what she does for you, but half the time I want to put her over my knee and beat that ass until I’ve wiped that smug look off her face.”
That caused another image to drift through my mind—one I didn’t mind at all.
“What about Helen?”
“Helen’s a bitch.”
I nearly spit out my beer, pressing my mouth to my arm to keep it in. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.
“I know,” Chloe said, practically reading my mind. “I sound like a hypocrite.”
“A self-aware one, at least,” I said.
And then, for the next ten minutes, we did what we did best—sat next to each other in complete silence.
Well ... second best, if you count those cozy nights in Norway.
The rain thickened, turning into a steady, heavy curtain.
Finally, I spoke. “Chloe, what if I’m too soft for all this?”
“Get tougher.”
“Easier said than done.”
“You managed in Norway.”
I stared into my bottle. “You were there to protect me the entire time.”
“Marcus, you were shot at more in five minutes than most people are in their entire lives, and came out in one piece. With Tanaka.”
She gave me a hard, unwavering stare. “You saved my life right after the crash, too. Only three people can say that. You’ve got it in you. Give yourself some credit. I do.”
I stared at her, unsure what to say.
She stood, tossed back the last of her beer, then set the empty bottle on the couch. “I’m getting some shut-eye.”
As she turned, I called out, “Chloe?”
She paused and looked back.
“What would you do ... if you were me?”
“I’d murder Ryo and Hiro. Then I’d make Sachiko one hell of an offer so she’d back off and stay away, and if she didn’t...” Chloe made her finger into a gun, pointed it at me, and mimed shooting it.
My stomach twisted. I had the resources to do exactly that. I just wasn’t sure I had the stomach for it.
“Just like that?” I asked.
“Yep.” There was no hesitation ... no remorse.
She read the discomfort on my face. “I’m not a good person, Marcus. I’m a pragmatist.”
“How can I trust you if you’re not a good person? The money?”
“In part,” Chloe said. “But I’m not Henry Psalter. He’ll honor the contract until it’s up, then kill you the second it’s over if that’s the next job. It’s not just money for me.”
“What is it, then?”
“Loyalty. You take care of your own—really take care of them. You care what happens to people. That inspires people.”
I let a slow smile pull at my mouth. “Gosh, Chloe. Keep sweet-talking me like this and you’re gonna make me blush.”
“‘Kay. Time for me to leave,” she muttered, and walked off into the rain.
I watched her disappear into the garden.
Well ... that was an interesting conversation.
I stayed under the awning, letting the rain drown out the noise in my head. I thought about what Chloe had said—about doing whatever it took to take my life back. I’d come a long way since inheriting the money ... but had I come far enough?
Was I really willing to do anything to keep it all?
Lightning flashed across the sky.
Maybe.
But if I were the kind of man who would do anything—at any cost—did I even deserve to hold onto it?
Did I want to be that man?
Ten minutes blurred into thirty as I sat there, lost in the storm and my own thoughts.
Killing Tanaka wouldn’t work anyway, would it? Some other monster would just fill the void he left. Eventually, someone else would pick up on my reluctance to get my hands dirty. And then what? Kill all over again?
Fuck that.
There had to be a better way than blood, the ruin of countless normal people, or me rolling over and taking it.
There had to be other options.
And then a hint of an idea began to take shape and form. A singularity spun up into an entire nexus of possibilities. Moment by moment, I started sifting through the raw ore of this... concept.
Surely it wouldn’t work. Would it?
There was only one person I knew
Chandler answered on the second ring. “Marcus? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning forward and getting comfortable. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Going into the office.”
That earned half a smile from me. “Cancel that. I need to talk to you first thing in the morning. I have a thought, and I need that business brain of yours...”
Friday, September 27th, 9:30 pm
The door shut behind me, and I leaned against it, staring at the two women in the room watching me.
Helen sat on Bobbi’s bed, lounging back against pillows propped on the headboard. She wore a pair of soft cotton shorts that showcased her elegant legs and a baggy t-shirt that concealed much of her shape. Her hair was piled behind her head, held in place with a clamshell clip, allowing easy view of the choker encircling her neck.
One of her legs hung off the side of the bed, giving the impression of complete relaxation. Her pale blue eyes were locked on me ... watching, waiting.
Bobbi was sitting in the chair next to her vanity, where an assortment of makeup and accessories were scattered across the tabletop. Soft light spilled across her features from lights mounted along the edges of the vanity mirror. She wore a silk pink gown with spaghetti straps. Across the chest, it plunged, showing plenty of loose cleavage.
The gown stopped mid-thigh, leaving her smooth, slender legs bare. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a pale pink that matched the color of her gown. Startling slate-gray eyes stared up at me, looking particularly big thanks to the subtle application of dark eyeliner and mascara ... and the fact that she was nervous as hell to confront me.
“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
“No, Sir,” Helen said. “Why are you wet?”
I’d come directly from the rooftop, having to walk through the open rain before getting to the garden and then making it to the door. I’d texted Helen roughly ten minutes before leaving, telling her to meet me here.
“It’s raining. I was on the roof.”
“Would you like to change?” Helen asked.
“No,” I said, keeping my eyes on Bobbi. “I’d like to hear what Bobbi has to say.”
It was almost imperceptible, but I caught a slight flinch from Bobbi as I used her name.
I hadn’t mistakenly used it. She made it clear that she was terrified of losing her new home, but in order to be here, she couldn’t be ‘Bobbi’—she was ‘kitten,’ ‘pet,’ ‘slut,’ or any other thing we felt like calling her on a whim. ‘Bobbi’ was the name of the girl with a drug problem who had nothing going for her.
And she could be ‘Bobbi again if this conversation went the wrong way. No games. No fucking around. I had enough problems outside the house to be concerned about the people inside.
Helen looked back at Bobbi. “Well?”
Bobbi glanced at Helen.
“Don’t look at her,” I snapped. “Look at me.”
She complied.
“I...”
The poor girl looked so unsure of what to say, which seemed so unlike the Bobbi Nanford I’d known for so long.
And then she raised her chin and set her jaw, a spark of her old spirit coming to life.
“I want what she has,” Bobbi said, glancing at Helen on the word ‘she.’
“What?” I asked, confused.
“I want ... I want someone.”
“Christ, Bobbi,” I said, exasperated. “Be more fucking specific.”
“I want a submissive!”
Helen and I blinked at her.
“Like what Helen has ... with me,” Bobbi went on.
“You want a submissive?” I asked.
Bobbi nodded. “Yes.” Then added, “Sir.”
I hadn’t expected that. I thought it might be along the lines of wanting a role in the house that was less submissive ... but she wasn’t even asking for a change in her situation in the house. She was asking for someone who could be beneath her.
Was she just that short-sighted, or did she really find her new lot in life fitting?
“It doesn’t have to be all the time,” Bobbi clarified, sensing my hesitation. “Just ... sometimes.”
“No,” I said. “I’m not sharing you with some other guy. Even if you never touch his dick and spend the entire time pegging him. You’re mine.”
I glanced at the older blonde. “And Helen’s.”
“It’s not a guy,” Bobbi said.
“You want to fuck another woman?” I asked. “Without me ordering you to?”
“It’s not ... it’s not like that,” Bobbi said. “It’s not just any woman.”
“I don’t have time for this,” I sighed.
“I want it to be Erin,” Bobbi blurted.
I leveled my gaze at her. “Erin...”
She simply stared back at me.
“No,” I said.
“Natalie, then!”
Ignoring that, I looked at Helen. “Did you know about this?”
She shook her head.
“Why?” I asked, turning my attention back to Bobbi.
“Because I hate them,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, we get that. Why?”
She looked reluctant to answer, but just as I was about to repeat myself, she said, “Because Erin’s a smug little bitch, and I fucking hate her.”
“And Natalie?”
“She saw me ... this way, and she knew me.” Bobbi cast her gaze around the room. “It’s fucking humiliating. Both of them...”
“Ah.” That at least made a little more sense. Natalie was the only one who knew Bobbi before her fall from grace, and I’d escorted her into the middle of one of my submissive’s sessions in the dungeon.
Erin was a little more perplexing, but aside from Helen, she was the one who was the most involved when I brought others into bed, along with Bobbi. Pair that with my assistant’s self-assuredness, and I could see how it would grate against Bobbi.
“No,” I repeated.
Bobbi’s jaw tightened. “No?”
“Hell no.”
Bobbi looked like she was teetering between defeat and fury.
“I didn’t tell them anything today,” she said quietly.
And now she was going to try extortion again. “Thanks for that.”
Her face twisted in outrage. “I could have told them you’re holding me against my will!”
“And you would have been lying,” I said. “There’s the door. You’re free to walk through it at any point in time.”
“You think they’ll believe you over me?”
In all honesty, I didn’t think they would. Reynolds already had it out for me, and that’s before I took into account the possibility that he could be working for Tanaka. If that were the case, convincing him to believe me over Bobbi would have been nearly impossible.
“Of course they’ll believe me over you, Bobbi.” I reached for the hem of my wet hoodie and pulled it over my head. My shirt came with it, and both hit the ground with a wet splat. “I still have the embezzlement evidence from Marduke. I can find Candace, and she can testify that you used to buy drugs from her.”
“You can’t—”
“And of course, there’s your family. I wonder what they would say if I got them involved.”
That shut her up. Hurt bled into the mixture of nervousness and anger.
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t look into them, did you?”
No response.
Of course, I hadn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. I would have to get Psalter to remedy as soon as possible. Once again, I needed to stop reacting.
“You said—”
“Fuck whatever I said. If you’re staying in this house, this is your role. Leave if you want, but that’s your choice. I told you I wouldn’t keep dangling what you did over your head, or threaten to kick you out every week.”
I stepped toward her, and she leaned slightly away from me. Reaching her, I took her chin in my hand and kept her gaze on me. “But I’m not letting you blackmail extort me, either.”
“I didn’t—”
“It was implied,” I said, interrupting her again. I ran my thumb over her lips ... they were so soft. “And I know everything that you told your mistress earlier. That was a threat.”
Without warning, I picked her up out of her chair, spun her around, and pressed her roughly against the mirror. The crap on the vanity’s surface fell off the edge and clattered to the floor.
She started to fight, struggling against me. One small fist swung back at my face, but I caught her dainty wrist in my hand. I grabbed her hair and shoved forward so that her cheek was pressed against the glass.
Tossing her hand aside, I reached for her gown and pulled at it as hard as I could; the straps popped, and the sound of fabric tearing filled the room. The next thing I knew, I had a scrap of pink silk in one hand while I had Bobbi’s head in the other, shoving her face into the cool glass.
The illumination did wonders at showing off her body in the mirror—her modest, B-cup breasts hung freely in front of her, dusky pink nipples already hard. The subtle ripple of abs played in the light as Bobbi squirmed under my grasp.
Helen took the initiative by slipping off Bobbi’s bed and dropping to her knees beside me as I explored the little submissive’s tight ass with one hand. She undid my pants and skinned them down my legs and discarded them. Socks and shoes came off in the same effort, leaving me completely nude.
The warmth of Helen’s mouth engulfed my mostly hard cock, preparing me for Bobbi. Meanwhile, I slid my fingers between her ass cheeks and ran the middle digit over her tight little ass briefly before continuing on to bury it inside her moist vagina.
Christ, was she ever anything but wet?
She gasped and pushed back against my hand as I fingered her.
“You’re insane if you think I’m going to just let you loose on anybody. Especially someone like Natalie or Erin.”
Helen’s expert mouth was already taking almost my entire dick, sliding up and down my pole with just the right amount of pressure. Her tongue worked across the underside just as I loved.
“You’re fucking lucky I let you stay in this house,” I growled.
“Unngh,” was Bobbi’s only reply.
I swatted her ass. “You’re lucky Helen and I even bother fucking you.”
The thought of Erin being subjected to the full, unrestrained burning fury of Bobbi Nanford...
Well, I had to admit that part of me deep down found it incredibly arousing—shamefully so.
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