The Love of Money II
Copyright© 2025 by MindSketch
Chapter 48
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 48 - 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, October 10th, 12:22 pm
By the time we emerged from the kitchen, two of the three girls were there, standing as far away from the kitchen door as possible without it looking too weird. One server wiped down a table that hadn’t been used, while the hostess flipped through a stack of menus until she ran out. I caught her glancing at us out of the corner of her eye, then she started counting them again.
Suspiciously missing was the server Erin had briefly flirted with before I hauled her off to mate with her like a caveman. What wasn’t missing was a scrap of paper with ten digits scrawled across it with a single name underneath—Abby.
Erin, who would have been on a walk of shame if she had been anyone else, grinned triumphantly around the room as she slapped her hand on the counter and slid the credit card and note off of it. She turned and handed me my card, waving the phone number like a prize.
“Congratulations,” I said.
“I should be congratulating you,” she replied. “She seemed way more interested in you than me.”
I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist and pulled her close. Her eyeliner was smudged from earlier tears and our adventures in the kitchen. Same with her lipstick, making her look like one of those messy, goth-themed pin-up girls.
“Erin, there’s no way in hell she would have given her phone number if she wasn’t interested in you. You would have scared her off.”
The silver-haired temptress grinned up at me, her chin resting on my chest. “I caught her eye-fucking you like ... five times.”
I spun her around in my arms and pulled her against me, her back pressed against my chest.
“Hey!” I called out to the two remaining girls. “Is Abby interested in her at all?”
They blinked at me, then looked at each other, completely out of their depth.
“You don’t have to answer him, girls!” Erin giggled and playfully elbowed me in the ribs. “I’ll ask her myself!”
The hostess seemed relieved.
Then she looked up at me. “If she says no, I’ll just have to convince her otherwise...”
I chuckled, spun Erin around, and gave her one last kiss before I let my arm slip from her waist.
Giving the girls a nod of thanks, we left, grinning at each other like two highschool kids who’d just lost their virginity as we strode out of the cafe hand-in-hand. The shoppers milling about had no idea that the two of us had violated at least a dozen health codes in that kitchen.
“Think their feelings were hurt that we didn’t ask for their numbers?” I asked.
Erin shrugged. “I hope not. They’re cute enough, but they didn’t stand a chance with Abby there. Hopefully they’re mature enough to know that we just have a type, and they’re not it.”
“The hostess was pretty cute,” I said, reminiscing over her girl-next-door look framed by short, dark hair.
Erin grinned as she looked up at me. “Noted. At least I know where to find her.”
“When are you gonna call Abby?”
“As soon as I head back to my room and get cleaned up. We’re meeting in the study in forty minutes?”
“Yep,” I said as we reached the elevators.
We stepped in, and I swiped my access card. While we ascended, Erin leaned into me—her back against my chest, my arms looped around her waist as we stared at Abby’s number.
“I can’t believe she was watching us,” I said, brushing my lips against the crown of her head.
She looked up at me, all smiles, “She was watching you.”
“Why do you look so happy about that?”
“Because nothing turns me on more than getting a reluctant straight to dabble in the waters of bisexuality.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I murmured against her forehead.
“You’ll be singing a different tune after Tara,” she said, her voice laced with amusement.
And then she closed her eyes and let me kiss her forehead, again and again, until the elevator hummed to a stop.
With final, lingering looks as interlaced fingers slipped from each other, Erin and I went our separate ways. She claimed she needed a shower, while I, who had already taken one, decided to check on my bedroom to see if anyone was still there.
It was much emptier than I’d left it—no tied-up redhead, no stunning milf lawyer-dominatrix ... no submissive kitten curled up next to the empty spot I’d vacated.
Just a made bed.
In fact, nothing of last night’s festivities had survived. The room smelled clean, and there were no clothes or sex toys scattered across the floor. Even the sheets on the bed looked fresh.
The only evidence that anything had happened was locked away in my mind: Bobbi, strap-on tight to her hips, driving into Jess. The maid’s red hair twisted into a single rope, clenched in Bobbi’s small but capable hand.
I’d just come inside my assistant in a restaurant, and still, I twitched at the thought of my broken little submissive railing my ex like she owned her.
“Goddamn,” I muttered to myself. “Don’t you ever get enough?”
My phone started buzzing in my pocket, and I pulled it out. I didn’t recognize the number, but something told me I should answer it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Upton?”
“Speaking.”
“It’s Detective Reynolds.”
“Oh.” I turned away from my bed and slowly walked toward the door. Hearing that name left a pit in my stomach. “Hey, Detective.”
“I’m in your neighborhood,” he said. “Wondered if you had a few minutes to talk.”
I hesitated before saying, “Yeah. I’ve got a few.”
“Not on the phone,” he said, his tone annoyingly cool. “In person.”
“I have a meeting soon,” I said.
“Cancel it.”
“Can’t. I can meet with you after, if it’s that important.”
“It’s important.”
“Then after the meeting?”
“What time would that be? I’m busy later.”
“Then make an appointment,” I said. “I already gave you an afternoon. I’m not giving you another.”
He sighed. “What time?”
“Two thirty work for you?” I asked.
“I’ll make it work. Talk soon.”
I snorted and punched the ‘end call’ button like it personally offended me.
I’d really hoped Reynolds would just go away.
Friday, October 10th, 1:00 pm
“Hey, gang!” I said, stepping into my study. “We may have a bit of a problem.”
My inner circle was already assembled, looking like a collection of sexy specialists ready to rob a casino.
Helen stood by the window, turning away from it as I made my entrance. She wore a white sleeveless vest with mother-of-pearl buttons and black slacks. Her hair hung in soft waves, looking as if she’d done just enough to it to keep from looking completely unkempt. Her makeup was minimal, subtly enhancing her stunning good looks. Arms loosely crossed, she looked like I’d caught her in the middle of a deep thought.
Emiko stood next to my desk, dressed exactly the same way she’d been when I saw her earlier in her cheongsam-style dress ... severe hair style and all. Her smile slowly faded at the mention of a problem.
Charity sat on the corner of my desk opposite Emiko, legs crossed at the ankles and gently swinging back and forth as she scrolled through her phone. Her eyeliner was heavy today, but her lips were touched up with a bit of gloss, giving them a subtle bubblegum pink hue. Her leggings were artfully torn to flash thigh, and her oversized shirt draped off one shoulder as if she’d just rolled out of bed and into a nice brunch. She’d mastered casual fashion.
Erin sat in my chair, mid-conversation with Emiko before I entered. She looked pristine and untouched compared to how I’d left her ... as if we hadn’t just fucked in the back of a cafe less than an hour ago. She’d traded the fashionable dress for a simple blouse and a skirt that ended just past the knees—casual but professional.
The way she looked at me, though?
That was anything but professional.
There was heat behind those eyes ... the kind that made my blood boil and freeze at the same time.
God, I had it bad for that girl.
“Problem?” Psalter asked, turning to look at me.
He sat in one of the two guest chairs, across the desk from Erin, twirling his hat idly in one hand. Vikram sat in the other chair, eyes locked on me warily.
“Yeah,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “Problem.”
As I crossed the room, Erin started to get out of my chair, but I raised a hand, motioning for her to stay seated.
“Reynolds called. He wants to talk.”
“Ugh,” came a familiar grunt.
I didn’t bother looking behind me. I could see the image in my head—Chloe leaning against the wall near the entrance, arms crossed as she watched the entire room like any one of the people in here would attack me.
“What does he want?” Helen asked, retreating from the window, concern etched in every line of her face.
“I don’t know. He wants to meet in person. He said he’d be here in an hour and a half.”
“Why didn’t he call me?” Helen asked. “How did he get your number?”
“I don’t know why ... or how.”
“It happens,” Charity said. “Leaks ... hacks ... bought information. A lot of famous people frequently change their numbers.”
It was my turn to groan.
“I’ll deal with it,” Erin said, already making a note on her mental to-do list.
“And I’ll deal with Reynolds,” Helen added, pulling out her phone.
“Don’t run him off,” I said.
That gave her pause, and she looked up at me, an unasked question in her eyes.
“I want to know what he’s thinking,” I said. “See if I’m about to get arrested, or if someone else is on his radar.”
Helen’s eyes narrowed. “Is there something I don’t know?”
I hesitated before saying, “I talked to Roger yesterday.”
Helen’s expression turned to stone. “Ah. What did he say?”
It was my turn to study her. I’d told her about Roger yesterday, and she seemed to shut down a little. While I could understand her need to take time to process the fact that her husband was in the same building, I couldn’t help but wonder if she needed to talk about it. Still, I didn’t want to press the issue—especially in a room full of other people.
“He said a lot,” I confessed. “Some of it we can talk about later, but Helen ... Ashlee might have planted the vial Reynolds found when she showed up here.”
“During the party?” Helen asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “The one in August.”
The air around her shifted a little, becoming less tense as she exhaled.
“Roger told me that she went to Tyler after she left Vegas,” I continued.
“I remember us taking her home,” Helen said softly. “She looked awful that day.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
Helen shook her head. “Nothing that made sense. She mostly screamed at her father ... said he’d ruined everything. There was more, but not much that made sense.”
“And you didn’t know that she was involved with Tyler?”
“I knew she was spending time with someone bad for her, but we wrote each other off years ago. Roger never told me much after that night, and I never saw Ashlee again after she left. I asked after her once, but he just told me he was handling it.”
“Okay,” I said, still eyeing her.
I had to will myself not to fall into suspicion. She’d proven herself several times. She’d saved my life, for fuck’s sake.
“Well,” I said, moving on, “as far as I can tell, she might have come here to plant something in my house, and the only time we left her alone was in Erin’s office, so she might have used that as her opportunity.”
“Chloe,” I said, turning to look at my bodyguard. “I want someone making absolutely sure we have a list of every possible person going in and out of Erin’s office. I want to be as sure as possible that it’s Ashlee. It almost feels like I’m grasping at straws, but unless anyone here has a better idea...”
“Chloe nodded.
“You’re right,” Helen said. “It’s not much to go on, but I recommend we tell Reynolds ... show him some good faith.”
“If you think that’ll help, but I’m not sure how seriously he’ll take it without any proof. I get the impression that he really has it out for me.”
I scanned the room, weighing trust as I considered my other Reynolds question. The darker one.
Almost everyone here had a stake in the VistaVision fraud and would share my fate if it came crashing down. If that didn’t earn them my trust, nothing would.
Even Emiko. She hadn’t touched the deal, but she knew I was holding two men hostage. If I went down, so would she, and even if that only meant deportation, that would take her back to Japan ... where the Tanakas held the most influence.
Still, I held back.
There was no point dragging anyone deeper than they already were—especially into something that had the potential to cross some serious lines.
I moved on for the moment.
I looked at Erin and Helen. “Where are we on VistaVision?”
“Good to go, boss,” Erin said, giving me a thumbs-up. “We have a deal.”
I was floored. “What?”
“A contingency deal,” Helen clarified. Hiro Tanaka’s lawyers have drafted an agreement—as long as all the criteria listed are met, they commit to buying the shares you’re selling at the agreed-upon price.”
“What are the criteria?”
“The ones we’ve already discussed,” she said. “If they don’t spot any red flags, they’ll move forward. Don’t celebrate yet, though. We’re not ready to sell, and we’ve already had two close calls. There’s still a decent chance they catch on.”
“It’s a good sign, though, right?”
Helen allowed herself a faint smile. “Probably.”
I punched the air. I’d take whatever win I could get.
“What about Astrid? Has she shown any sign of interfering?”
“She hasn’t met with Hiro or the daughter in person,” Psalter said.
“And I haven’t seen anything to indicate that Miss Håkansson’s involvement,” Vikram added.
A tiny spark of cautious optimism in Astrid bloomed deep within. “You really think she’s stayed out of it?”
“I think that’s why she’s inviting you to this party,” Helen said. “She’s probably going to try to convince you not to sell to the Tanakas.”
“I think Astrid’s coming to New York might be doing her more harm than good,” Erin chimed in. “Even if she hasn’t approached the Tanakas, they know she’s here. Hiro knows that Ryo tried to kill her, and I think they’re afraid that Astrid might convince you to change your mind about selling to them.”
“Really?”
Really,” Erin said. Helen nodded in agreement.
Regardless of how I felt about Astrid, if she helped me close this deal, even accidentally, I’d take it. I would almost consider her a welcome presence.
“What about Amber?”
“She approached Tanaka a few days ago, but we don’t know what was said,” Erin reported.
“Could it mean they’re working together? Some kind of deal?”
“It could mean anything,” Helen said.
I mulled over the possibilities. Part of me hoped they were working together so the proverbial bomb would go off in both their faces. However, that would dilute the effect, and I wanted Hiro to take the full impact. As much as I wanted to ruin Amber’s life, I hated him more.
“Okay ... just keep an eye on her and let me know if anything changes.”
I turned my attention to Charity. “How’s the image rehab going?”
She looked up from her phone. “Well, we couldn’t have timed it better with the Homeless Vets Initiative. We’ve already delivered the initial twenty percent, and the proof of concept’s looking strong.”
“What city did they choose for the test?” I asked.
“Pittsburgh—smaller concentration of displaced vets with a decent infrastructure in place. It’ll cost less, so they can be more aggressive. They’re hoping that they can build a good case study to bring to other investors ... plus use it to help sell others on the idea that you aren’t a bad guy.”
I suddenly found it hard to swallow. “That’s ... nice of them.”
“They’re really grateful,” Charity said, offering me a soft smile.
I nodded and took a moment to get myself under control.