The Billionaire’s Club Prologue

Levi – Five Years Old

Five year old Levi stared out the dirty window, dread pooling in his belly as the elegant man stepped out of the shiny limousine.  The man looked disdainfully up at the apartment building and Levi quickly leaned back, not wanting to be seen staring out the window covered only by a bed sheet that had been torn in half so that the material could functioned as a curtain.  Even from this distance, Levi could tell that the man looking at the building didn’t belong in this neighborhood.  He was too well-dressed and didn’t slouch when he walked.    

Had this man, this person that seemed so out of place, seen the longing that Levi tried so hard to hide?  Or worse, the hope?  Levi prayed that the man couldn’t see the emotions on his face.  Levi wanted to appear unconcerned.  Like Jimmy had looked when their kindergarten teacher had yelled at him for knocking Mikey down in the playground yesterday. 

Turning away from the window, Levi plopped down onto the floor.  He wished that he was in school, but today was Saturday.  In his kindergarten classroom, there was a big, soft carpet right next to a bookshelf filled with books.  Every day, his teacher would gather the whole class on the carpet for a story.  Every day, Levi rushed over to the carpet circle, ready to experience, if only for a few moments, the softness of the rug so that he could escape from this rough world and think about the happy images that formed in his mind whenever he or his teacher read from a book. 

Of course, he’d given up his seat on the carpet yesterday because Bethany hadn’t gotten to the circle in time.  Darren had taken the spot Bethany had been running to, and she wasn’t fast enough. 

Levi knew that he wasn’t allowed to push Darren out of the way, even though Darren had nearly knocked Bethany down.  So, he did the next best thing.  Levi had offered his spot to Bethany and he’d perched on the edge of the soft carpet. 

It didn’t really matter, Levi thought as he looked around at the hard, cracked tiles that covered the floor in the apartment.  Maybe he should just ignore the carpeting at school.  It might make the linoleum floor here in his tiny bedroom easier to handle.  Maybe if he stayed away from the carpeting in his classroom, he’d forget how nice it felt to sit on.  If one never got used to something, one couldn’t miss it, he rationalized. 

Picking up a library book, Levi started reading, wanting to lose himself in the pictures the words created in his mind.  This was his routine.  Whenever the bad man came around, he’d pretend that he lived in a different world, one filled with pretty fairies and waterfalls made from diamonds instead of water.  He pretended that he was one of the magical creatures that could swim in the magical lake and play underneath the waterfall.  His skin was strong enough that he wouldn’t be sliced by the diamonds falling from the rocks above. 

Unfortunately, the only people in this book who weren’t hurt by the diamond waters were the fairies and fairies were all girls.  He thought about how pretty his kindergarten teacher was.  Did she have fairy wings hidden underneath her clothes, like the fairies in his book?  He thought about that for a moment. 

But then loud pounding reverberated through the small apartment and Levi forced himself to focus on the words. 

The yelling would come next and Levi wanted to pretend like he couldn’t hear it. 

“I want to see him!” the deep, booming voice called out.  “Get him out here now, woman!”

Levi scooted closer to the wall, wanting to hide from that voice.  His father was never very nice during these monthly visits. 

“He doesn’t want to see you, Jerry,” his mother’s softer voice replied.  Levi knew she was trying to stay calm.  His father had threatened to take Levi away if she became “irrational” or “overly emotional”.  Levi wasn’t sure what “irrational” meant, but he knew that his mother always cried after these visits from his father. 

“Ruth, we go through this argument every month.  And I win, every damn time.”  There was a snarling quality to the man’s tone now. 

“I’m not going to force our son to do anything he doesn’t want to do, Jerry,” his mother replied again, her tone calm, but Levi could hear the tension lacing her words. 

“It’s time for Levi to meet his half-brother, Ruth.  Go get him so that I can make the introductions.”

Levi’s ears perked up. He had a brother?  He’d always wanted a brother.  Looking around, Levi immediately tried to reconfigure the tiny room, wondering how he could fit another bed in the space.  They could have sleepovers!  They could play games together.  He could whisper secrets to a brother!  Maybe this brother didn’t like their father either!  A co-conspirator would be a wonderful treat. 

He’d learned that word in his book too.  It was a neat word, but it was one that he’d only read in his head, so he wasn’t exactly sure how to pronounce it. 

His mother’s voice interrupted his mental efforts.  “I thought Beth had blessed you with two sons.”

Jerry sighed heavily, a sound that carried easily through to Levi’s bedroom since the walls were so thin. “Beth took Clay to look at a boarding school this morning.  Both Martin and Clay will start boarding school as soon as they reach third grade.”

“Boarding school?  For children?  Martin is…what?  Only eight years old?  That’s too young for boarding school!”

Levi had no idea what boarding school was, but obviously, it couldn’t be a good place if his mother didn’t want someone going there when they were only eight years old.  Did boarding schools have libraries?  Levi loved libraries.  They had so many books, and his school librarian let Levi take out as many books as he wanted.  He was always extra careful with his treasures, bringing back the books as soon as he’d read them several times.  The librarian explained that only people who returned books could get more. 

If boarding schools had libraries, maybe Levi would like to go as well? 

“Boarding schools make children strong,” his father explained in his “mean” voice.  “Martin and Clay will make lifelong friendships at school.  It’s an excellent place for boys to become men.  The children that attend this particular school all grow to become leaders of industry, strong businessmen who eventually rule the world, Ruth.  Don’t denigrate something you know nothing about,” he replied with a stern, patronizing tone.  “Now get the boy out here.  Immediately!  Or I’ll find a boarding school that will take him as well!”

Levi didn’t hear anything for a long moment, but he could feel his mother’s horror.  So instead of waiting for her to come get him, he tucked his book under his arm and stepped out into the living room.  There was no hallway, just a kitchen that was actually part of the living room, a tiny, closet-like bedroom, and a bathroom. 

Levi froze in the doorway, staring at the boy that was standing beside his father.  There was a long silence as Levi and the other boy, Martin, stared at each other. 

Martin was wearing a soft, blue sweater with jeans that had a crease down the front.  Why had someone ironed his jeans?  They looked…odd.  But it was the sweater that really caught Levi’s attention.  Levi tugged at the torn neckline of his own sweater.  There was a piece of yarn dangling from his shoulder and his mother had urged him not to pull at it or the whole sweater would unravel.  Levi took care not to tug on the piece of yarn, but it didn’t really matter since the whole garment was a bit threadbare. 

In contrast, his brother’s sweater had no dangling threads.  The neckline was tight around his neck and the boy even wore a tie underneath the sweater.  A tie!  Levi thought only adults wore ties!  Even the boy’s shoes were nice and shiny.  They were leather and looked like something that an adult would wear. Martin seemed like a shorter version of their father. 

Meanwhile, Levi’s shoes had a hole in the bottom and the top.  On rainy days, Levi’s socks were wet all day long.  Plus, his jeans had a hole in the knee. 

Levi knew the drill.  Every month, his father arrived to inspect him.  There wasn’t much conversation.  Just a five or ten second perusal, then the man would nod to his mother, say something mean and leave.   

However, today’s agenda veered off course when the boy, Levi’s “brother”, sneered at him.  “You’re not actually reading that book!” Martin snarled.  “You’re only in kindergarten!”

Levi silently hugged the book to his chest.  He simply stared at the brother, not bothering to reply to such a ridiculous comment.  Of course he was reading the book.  Why would he be holding it if he wasn’t reading it? 

Was this what brothers were like?  Martin acted like Darren, the bully at school.  Did Martin also push girls around? 

“He’s a very advanced reader,” his mother explained proudly.  “He reads five or six books a week.  Sometimes more.”

Martin glanced up at her, then sneered and shook his head.  “No one reads that many books in a week.”  He jerked his chin towards Levi’s book.  “Especially not one that big.  And not in kindergarten.”  He stepped back, leaning against his father’s leg.  “What a faker!”

Levi didn’t say anything.  What was there to say?  He didn’t feel the need to prove himself.  If this was what a brother was like, he didn’t want to have anything to do with the jerk!

“It’s fine, son,” their father said, laying a hand on Martin’s head.  The boy had light brown hair, which was a contrast to Levi’s dark, almost black, hair.  His mother’s hair was the same color, but Levi and Martin both had their father’s blue eyes.  In fact, they were spookily similar.  Levi was shorter, but Levi was also abnormally large for his age.  He was one of the tallest kids in his kindergarten class.  Would Levi get to be as tall as Martin when he was older? 

And what did this other brother look like?  Clay?  Yeah, that was the other name he’d heard.  Why hadn’t Levi known that he had two brothers?  How old was Clay?  And wasn’t that an odd name?  Wasn’t play dough the name for clay? 

“We’re done here,” his father stated firmly.  “Ruth, if I find out that you are raising a liar, then I’m taking control of the boy!”  And then he was gone. 

Levi stared at the closed door, then looked up at his mother.  She was struggling not to cry.  Every time he came to visit, he made her cry.  He always issued some sort of threat, usually about taking Levi away.  Levi didn’t understand why, because it was obvious that his father didn’t want to have anything to do with him.  Why was he so mean?

Levi dropped his precious book and rushed over to his mother.  “It’s okay, Momma!” he whispered against her leg, hugging her as hard as he could.  “Someday, I’ll be big and strong and I’ll force him to stop making you cry!”

Ruth bent down and took her adorable son into her arms, holding him close.  “You’re such a wonderful boy!” she told him, pushing his hair out of his eyes.  “You need a haircut,” she murmured with a wobbly laugh.  “Why don’t we do that now?”

Levi shrugged.  “I think we should microwave marshmallows.”

Ruth laughed again, this time stronger as she wiped away a tear.  “You like marshmallows, don’t you?”

He nodded.  “It always makes you smile,” he told her. 

Ruth’s heart ached for her son who was wise beyond his years.  “Okay, let’s trim your hair and then we’ll make marshmallows!”

Levi – Fifteen Years Later

 

Levi walked out of the mechanic’s shop, mentally sifting through the various issues he had to figure out next.  He’d bought the mechanic shop two years ago with the money he’d earned working on an oilrig.  With the new advertising and pricing strategy, he’d been able to hire on four new mechanics.  He’d doubled everyone’s salaries and, because of the financial motivation, his new staff worked harder and faster.  He’d doubled his revenue and profits in only nine months. 

What was he going to do with his money now?  He needed to invest it in another business, but which one?  He was twenty years old and had four businesses already.  He’d need to hire a business manager soon.  The task of managing each of the businesses was taking up too much of his time. 

He stepped into a coffee shop, ordered a plain, black coffee, then sat down by the window to read the latest news and check on his stocks.  Everything was up, except for one of his stocks, and Levi knew that the business was about to explode.  They had a new product coming onto the market so this momentary downturn was actually a good thing.  He’d call his broker and buy more shares in that business. 

He sipped his coffee and considered an idea.  If he sold all of his businesses, he’d have just enough to buy up enough of this company’s stocks to gain a controlling interest.  The company had a great product, but did they have the marketing strategy to get their product into the world? 

Probably not.  If there was one thing Levi was good at, it was that he knew how to market products and services.  Pairing that with great products and a streamlined distribution method and Levi knew that the company could take control of the market. 

The only problem – he didn’t have a distribution system.

Not yet, anyway. 

So he’d learn, he told himself as he finished his coffee.  He’d figure out how to make the best, damn distribution systems the corporate world had ever seen. 

His phone rang and he smiled, tossing his empty cup into the trash as he went back out to the street.  “Hi Mom.  What’s up?”

“Dear, are you coming to dinner tomorrow night?”

Levi smiled as he turned the corner.  “Of course, Mom.  You know I always come for dinner on Sunday.  Should I bring the wine?” She was a great cook, but his mother had lived most of her life in poverty and wouldn’t dare spend more than five dollars on a bottle of wine. 

“No no, honey.  I’ve got it covered.  Just bring yourself. You know that’s always enough for me.”

Levi silently groaned, but shrugged.  “Okay, I’ll see you at five then.  Anything else?”

“Nope!  I’m just eager to see you.  You know how much I miss you.”

Levi chuckled.  “See you tomorrow then.”

He stepped back into the mechanics’ shop and heard raised voices.  He’d planned to pick up his car and be on his way to his night class since he was working on his business degree whenever he had a spare evening.  But the yelling caused him to speed up.

Turning the corner, he sighed. 

His pompous brother was standing beside an expensive vehicle, yelling at the manager. Levi had endured so many “visits” from his father and whichever brother was handy over the years.  Every time Clay had come along with their father for the monthly visits, he had sneered at the poverty in which Levi and his mother lived.  Neither Clay nor Martin ever tried to hide their disdain. 

Now, Levi wondered why his mother never tried to get child support payments from Jerry.  The man owned a chain of sporting goods stores with locations all over the country.  Clay and Martin lived like little princes, while Levi sometimes hadn’t even had lunch money. 

Now that Levi was starting to make some money, things weren’t nearly as desperate for him and his mother. 

But the memories of how badly his father and brothers had treated Levi and his mother were still fresh in his mind.  The bastards loved to rub their wealth in his face, and Levi hated them for it. 

Levi stepped forward, watching his half-brother berate Levi’s employee for a moment.  Disgusted with the tirade, Levi stepped forward, unwilling to let his pompous brother abuse his employees. 

“Clay, what are you doing here?” Levi interrupted, stepping up right behind his half-brother.  The guy was wearing a cashmere sweater, a white tee shirt underneath, khaki slacks and the requisite, hand-made loafers. 

Clay spun around, then reared back, glaring up at Levi.  “What the hell do you want?” his half-brother demanded.

Levi didn’t bother to hide his eye roll.  “This is my–”

Clay covered his mouth with his hand in pretend horror.  “You work here?” he demanded, then gave a bark of laughter.  “Holy crap!  You are a freaking mechanic!”

Levi sighed, trying to find patience for this imbecile.  Since he had grown several inches taller than his half-brother, it was easy to literally look down at the weak-chinned ass. Clay had the soft, brown hair and slender build of his father.  The only aspect of their shared DNA that was recognizable was the blue eyes.  Both of them had the same, startling blue eyes as their father. 

“Why are you abusing my mechanics?” he asked, his voice conversationally soft. 

Clay sighed and jerked his thumb over his shoulder.  “Not that it’s any business of yours, but I need to get a tire fixed.  I hit a nail somewhere in this crappy neighborhood and now I have a flat.”

Levi looked behind Clay at his staff, most of whom were older than he was.  But they respected him because Levi treated everyone well, had raised their salaries, and regularly gave out bonuses. 

The shiny white Mercedes coupe shimmered in the sunshine by one of the open bay doors.  And yes, there was a flat tire on the front, driver’s side, causing the vehicle to look uneven and depressed. 

Levi pulled his eyes back to frown at Clay, then turned his manager.  “That sounds like an easy fix. What’s the problem?”

Clay snarled, “That’s what I said.  So why the hell can’t they fix it?”

Levi also noticed that all of the bays were filled with cars lifted up on hydraulic platforms with repairs in progress already.  Still, Levi knew that most mechanics could have grabbed the nail repair kit and quickly taken care of the problem.  It only took about five minutes. 

Levi lifted a dark eyebrow as he stared calmly down at his arrogant brother.  “Did you ask nicely?”

Clay’s mouth fell open.  “Why the hell would I ask nicely?  They are mechanics! They should just do their job!”

Levi chuckled.  “Well, I guess you have your answer then.”

Clay sputtered with fury.  Pointing at his sports car, he looked ready to explode.  “You fix the hole!  It’s probably a scam anyway!  One of you probably dumped a box of nails on the street just so that you could create more business for your stupid, little auto-shop.  I demand that you fix this immediately!”

Levi shrugged, unconcerned with his sniveling brother’s rage.  “You can demand whatever you want.  It won’t work.”

Clay stomped his foot.  Levi eyes widened with amusement.  The man actually stomped his loafer-clad foot like a belligerent toddler! 

Poking a finger at Levi, Clay could no longer control his fury or his volume.  “Listen, you barbarian!  You always were the embarrassment of this family!  Father never admitted to anyone that he had a third son, but here you are.  You finally have some value!  So fix the damn tire or I’m going to contact your manager.”  He moved closer, lowering his voice.  “Believe me, I have enough clout to get you fired!”

The mechanics had stopped their repairs and were now standing within earshot, watching the scene with amused glee.  It wasn’t often that they got to enjoy such interesting daytime entertainment. 

Clay must have heard their chuckles, because his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Would you like me to get the manager for you?” Levi asked calmly.

Clay pulled himself up to his full height, but the poor sap was still more than a head shorter than Levi.  Levi might have been shorter than his half-brothers while growing up, but around the eighth grade, he’d had a massive growth spurt and he’d grown over a foot in height in one year and hadn’t stopped growing.  So now he was several inches taller than both of his brothers.  Plus, because of his workouts, Levi also had about fifty pounds of muscles on his frame.  His father and brothers were seriously lacking in any sort of muscle tone.  Clay was only twenty-five years old and was already soft around his slowly expanding middle. 

“Yes!”  Clay stomped again. “I want to speak to the manager!”  He lowered his voice and glared up at Levi.  “I will get you so fired!”

Levi suppressed his amusement, as well as several thoughts of evil retribution, and looked over Clay’s head.  “Hey, Tony!  Clay wants to speak with the manager.”

Tony, a big, brawny guy with slicked back hair and a knowledge of cars that was beyond anything Levi could ever hope to achieve, came over to stand next to Clay.  The garage manager was wearing filthy, grey overalls and wiping his hands on an already greasy towel.  Tony wasn’t as tall as Levi, but he was still taller than Clay and he puffed up his chest, intimidating the shorter man even more. 

“What’s the problem?”

Clay huffed a bit, then stepped backwards, his cheeks turning a rather unbecoming shade of red.  “I demand this man be fired!”

Tony lifted a dark eyebrow.  “Why?  What’s he done to you?”

Clay pointed at Levi.  “He was rude and has awful customer service!”

Tony nodded slowly.  “Interesting.”  He jerked his chin towards one of the other guys.  “Hey, Rob, didn’t this guy call you a Neanderthal when he walked in?”

Rob nodded. “Sure did.  And he called Larry a buffoon.”

Levi turned to Clay. “That doesn’t sound like you were being very nice to these knowledgeable gentlemen, Clay.”

Clay’s face was quickly turning scarlet.  “That’s because they aren’t knowledgeable!  It doesn’t take a degree in rocket science to fix a damn tire!”

Levi shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets.  “Last I heard, you were working as a cashier at daddy’s sports shop.  Doesn’t take a degree in rocket science to ring up a customer either.  But I bet you’d never treat your customers the way you’re treating these men.”

Clay sputtered for another moment, quickly realizing that he was losing control.  “Just fix the damn tire and I’ll get out of here!” Clay ordered.  He turned to Tony.  “And you’re going to be fired as well!  I’m going to speak to the owner of this crappy shop and get all of you fired!”

Tony stared at Clay for a long moment, then he turned to one of the mechanics.  “Hey Tom, why don’t you pull up this guy’s car and put it where it belongs.”

Tom tossed the rag he held onto a tool chest and nodded.  “Sure thing boss.” 

“Finally!” Clay snapped, looking relieved.  “Then I can get the hell out of here and never come back into this pathetic part of the city again!”  Clay walked into the shop’s waiting room and poured himself a cup of coffee. 

Levi kept a straight face as he watched Tom back up the tow truck.  It took about thirty seconds for the mechanic to hook up Clay’s sports car.  Then he drove out of the parking lot, hauling the expensive car away.  A few moments later, Tom returned, parked the tow truck and nodded to Tony.  “It’s exactly where it should be, boss.”

Tony chuckled and nodded.  “Good job.  What else do we have going on today?” he asked, completely dismissing the arrogant idiot sitting in the garage’s waiting room. 

 

Clay flipped through the four year old magazine, reading the gossip news and chuckling over some of the more outrageous outfits.  There were a few moments of frustration when he noticed a social event that he’d attended, but his picture hadn’t been printed. 

“Celebrities!” he grumbled, wondering how he could find an A list actress to date.  Maybe that would get him into the gossip rags. 

Glancing at his watch, he realized that over an hour had passed.  Looking around, he noticed that his vehicle wasn’t sitting out front, waiting for him. 

“This is ridiculous!” he snapped.  Standing up, he stormed out of the waiting room.  “Where’s my car?” he demanded of the first employee he came across.  There was no nametag on the man’s filthy overalls, so he couldn’t name him in his complaint to the owner. 

The man wiped the sweat from his forehead and shrugged. “I think Tom towed it a few blocks away.  It might still be there.”

A few blocks…?  “What the hell do you mean?”

The man jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  “Yeah, we weren’t gonna fix the tire, so we had to get it out of the way.  Your car was blocking our work.”

“Blocking…?” Clay sputtered.  “Someone was supposed to fix the hole! I should have been gone over forty-five minutes ago!”

The mechanic shrugged again.  “Do you have a signed contract stating that we agreed to perform the requested maintenance?”

Clay couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “This is a repair garage!  What the hell are you talking about?”

The big guy stepped out of one of the work bays.  “Is there a problem?” Tony asked.

Clay spun around, gaping at the brawny manager.  He was nearly as tall as that miserable sod, Levi.  The fact that their half-brother got the height in the family was a constant thorn in Clay’s side.  If anyone deserved the height, it should have been him as his father’s heir! 

“Where the hell is my car?  Someone was supposed to fix the tire!”

Tony shook his head.  “You have been nothing but insulting to us,” the garage manager stated calmly.  “We don’t work on cars when someone pisses us off.”  He jerked his head in the same direction the no-name guy had indicated.  “And since your vehicle was blocking our work areas, we towed it away to a street location.”

Clay turned on his heel and sprinted in the direction the buffoons had indicated.  Three blocks away, Clay came to a screeching stop, his lungs burning in his chest as he stared at his previously pristine, white Mercedes.  All of the tires were gone now and the hood had “Pimp” spray painted on it in red letters. 

“What the hell?!” he gasped, too stunned to move.  That ended when a couple of teenagers rode by on bicycles and threw glass bottles at his car, one of them shattering the driver’s side window and the others striking the side and littering the street with broken glass. 

The red-haired teen who’d aced his projectile laughed as he sped on down the street with his friends. 

Clay pulled out his cellphone, ignoring the burning in his chest and the humiliation of having his car destroyed.  He’d deal with that later.  Right now, he wanted to get the hell out of this neighborhood.  His insurance company could deal with the vehicle!

Levi – Five Years Later

 

“Why the hell are you here?” Clay spat as he and Martin, his younger brother, but still two years older than Levi, stepped into the lawyer’s office. 

Levi ignored the snide tone and took a seat.  “Hello, Luther,” he greeted their father’s personal lawyer.  “How are Davie and Ginger?”

Luther, one of the preeminent lawyers in Philadelphia, smiled and nodded.  “They’re fine.  Davie just graduated and Ginger was accepted to George Mason University.”

“Excellent!” Levi replied, nodding at the accomplishment.  “Great school.  It’s grown a great deal over the past few years, from what I’ve heard.”

“It has,” Luther replied, pride shining from his features.

“Could we get on with this?” Martin snapped, glaring at both men.

Luther frowned at the obnoxious man, then cleared his throat and leaned forward.  “Of course, Martin,” he replied as he picked up a file folder.  “First, let me say how sorry I am at your father’s passing,” he said to Clay and Martin, not bothering to insult Levi with the offer of sympathy. 

“Thank you,” Clay replied, the grief seemingly manufactured.  Martin remained silent, letting his older brother do the talking.  “Please proceed,” Clay urged the lawyer.  “We have many issues to deal with now that we’re taking over my father’s estate.”

“Yes, of course,” Luther replied, then looked down and shuffled some papers.  Finally, he set the documents in place and looked up.  “As you all know, your father’s sporting goods empire has grown to be quite large.”  He looked at Clay and Martin.  “Your father left both of you equal shares in the business, as well as the house in Philadelphia.   There is some jewelry that comes along with the inheritance, which is listed here.”  He handed them a piece of paper that listed out the pieces of jewelry that Jerry had “gifted” to his current wife.  “Your stepmother inherited six million dollars, as agreed upon by their prenup contract.”

Both Clay and Martin grumbled at losing such a large amount.  “We got the businesses,” Martin muttered to Clay.  “We can kick her out of the house and throw a big party to celebrate.”

The duo seemed content with that plan, then turned to Levi.  “Sorry, chump,” Clay taunted.  “Guess you’re left out in the cold again.”

Luther lifted a hand.  “Mr. Harris received something from your father as well.  But you two don’t need to stick around for this part, since you two have things to do.”

Clay stared at the lawyer, then at Levi.  “What…?” he started to ask, then stopped, his features shifting to laughter.  “Oh no!  Please tell me that Levi is getting that old house out in the country!  Please, please tell me that I don’t have to deal with that miserable piece of trash-property!”

Martin snickered as well. 

Luther didn’t smile.  Instead, he laid his hands on the papers scattered on top of the desk.  “Yes, Mr. Harris was deeded the old horse farm.”

Martin threw back his head, laughing at the idea.  “That place is such a dump!  It’s been used as a place for old farts to hang out when they had nothing better to do than drink all afternoon.  It’s about to be condemned, so that’s absolutely perfect!”

The brothers slapped each other on the shoulder, then turned to Levi.  “It suits you though.”  And then they left the lawyer’s office, making plans on how to celebrate their new wealth. 

Luther waited until the brothers were gone before he turned back to Levi.  In a softer tone, he said, “I apologize, Mr. Harris.”  He pulled out a file folder.  “The property truly is in bad condition.  I visited that place several years ago and, while the old house is massive and has a great deal of character, your father never put money into the maintenance of the place.  There are some serious structural problems.  In addition, I believe there’s an old horse that probably should have been put out of his misery years ago.”  He sighed and extended his hand with a file folder that contained the deed to the property as well as several other documents.  “And even worse, there are some sexual harassment claims from the former waitressing staff against several of the guests.”

Levi took the folder and made sure that his irritation was well hidden. “So my father’s final insult was to give me a property that has legal and maintenance issues.”  He flipped open the file folder and skimmed through the information.  “A fourteen bedroom house surrounded by pastures.”  The pictures showed a house with significant maintenance problems and, off in the distance, a barn that looked as if it were ready to topple.  “Wonderful.” 

He flipped the folder closed and looked over at the lawyer.  “Any other prizes that I should be aware of?”

“No,” Luther replied.  “However, that property is yours completely.  There are no liens on the property and…” His voice trailed off.  “Well, it’s not much, but at least your father remembered you in the will.”

Levi’s mouth quirked up on one side. “The property is a slap in the face,” he said to the lawyer and stood up.  “He hated that I am now more successful than he was at his death.  He wanted to create one last problem for me.” 

Luther stood as well, extending his hand.  “Let me know if you’d like to sell the property.  I’m sure that I could connect you with some land developers that might be interested.  The staff would be out of a job, but I can easily write up severance packages for them.”

“Staff?” Levi asked, confused.

Luther nodded.  “Your brothers were correct.  The building was used as a sort of clubhouse for some of his friends.  It used to be a pretty popular place about thirty years ago, but membership has dwindled over the years.  There’s currently a staff of five waitresses and a line cook.  The club manager left perhaps two years ago, and I don’t know who has taken over that role, but I can get more information, if you’d like.”

Levi considered the offer, then shook his head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll drive out and take a look at the property myself.  I’ll let you know if there’s anything you can do to help.”

Matteo – Five Years Old

 

“Go run and hide, mijo!” Matteo’s mother whispered anxiously. 

Matteo knew that tone and reacted to it immediately.  Standing up, he rushed out of the pub’s kitchen to the back room and hid behind the old refrigerator, pressing his cheek against the cold surface as he waited, listening. 

“Get me a beer!”

There was a bit of scrambling and Matteo knew that the other patrons that had been having a cheery, good time, had quickly left the pub as quickly as possible.  When Lord del Campo was around, people got scared.  No one wanted to be under his lordship’s speculative gaze.

As the bastard son of the village Marquesso, Matteo had endured a great deal of anger directed at him.  But for the most part, the villagers hated the lord, Ricardo del Campo, more than they disdained a child born out of wedlock.  Matteo wondered if some of the villagers’ acceptance was simply to get back at the meanness of the Marquesso, who openly spurned Matteo at every opportunity. 

“Psst!”

The sound came from behind him and Matteo looked at the kitchen doorway.  That’s when he saw his older half-brother, Antonio, waving at him.  “Come with me!” his brother urged.

Matteo glanced warily back at the doorway leading to the main room of the pub, then towards his brother, not sure if Antonio was trustworthy.  In the end, he decided to go with his brother.  They hurried out the door and down one of the back alleys.  “We’ll hide in the school room,” Antonio told Matteo.  “Senora Perez is there with the others for Sunday School.  You can stay with her until our father has gone back to his castle.”

Matteo hurried after his half-brother, eager to play in the church room.  There were lots of toys in there, things that his mother couldn’t afford.  Antonio didn’t stay though.  After delivering Matteo, the other boy rushed out of the church, never looking back.

Two hours later, Matteo looked up from the building blocks to see his mother coming through the door, her pretty features suffused with a smile of relief.  Matteo hurried over to her, throwing his arms around her legs.  “Mama!” he cried out, happy that she didn’t have another bruise on her face.  Without releasing her legs, he leaned his head back.  “Is he gone, Mama?”

“Si, mi corazon,” his mother said, smoothing his dark hair back off his forehead.  “Your Papa has gone back to his home.”

“And are you…?” he asked, unable to finish the question.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. 

Matteo – Twenty Years Later

 

Matteo watched with pride as Bailey crossed the stage to get her degree.  “She’s beautiful!” someone said.  “Is she your wife?”

Matteo ignored the lurch in his chest at that word.  “Wife”.  It sounded perfect.  But Matteo shook his head. “No, she’s my best friend,” he told the stranger. 

The woman nodded knowingly.  “Well, she’s beautiful.”  She glanced at the next person walking across the stage.  “You should grab her up and put a ring on that finger before someone else does!”

Matteo sighed, the woman’s words echoing through his head.  After what seemed like hours, the speaker called out the final graduate’s name.  There were a few more brief remarks, then the dean of the college announced that the students were now graduates.  There was a cheer and a smattering of caps thrown into the air, then the mass exodus began. 

It took over thirty minutes to find Bailey. When he finally caught sight of her blond hair sparkling in the sunshine, Matteo made a beeline for her.  He noticed that Bailey’s mother was there and he felt a pang of longing.  His mother had passed away several years ago.  His bastard of a father hadn’t even let Matteo come home for the funeral.  He’d been informed of his mother’s passing from the headmaster of his boarding school, then told to hurry back to class. 

A moment later, Matteo noticed the other man standing next to Bailey. The tall, geeky fellow instantly ignited a fury inside of Matteo unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  Immediately, an urge to bash the fellow’s nose in washed over him.

That feeling intensified when Bailey, with her lively smile and bright, teasing eyes, glanced up at him.  Slowly, the fury eased out of him.  That eager expression in her eyes was all the reassurance Matteo needed.  Bailey rushed over and threw her arms around him.  Matteo relaxed, hugging her back while forcefully reminding himself that they were “just friends”. 

“Matteo!” she whispered, hugging him tightly.  “Thank you for coming!”

“As if I would miss this celebration,” he replied, hearing the accent in his voice.  Matteo tried to suppress his Spanish accent here in the US.  It came out now merely because he was proud of her and no other reason, he told himself. 

An hour later, Bailey had provided the means for their eventual success. 

“What do you think?” she asked, staring eagerly at him.

Matteo took in her eager expression and the tension in the geeky man’s shoulders.  Timothy.  The lanky man’s hair was lighter than Matteo’s, but there was an intense intelligence in his eyes.  Even as Matteo watched, Tim pushed those nerdy glasses higher onto his nose.  Matteo considered their business proposition.  It was intriguing.  Plus, with a bit of luck and Bailey’s exuberance, as well as her unending optimism, he was fairly certain that the three of them could make a go of it. 

“Si,” he replied.  And that was the beginning of a business relationship that would dwarf his father’s empire! 

Sian – Five Years Old

 

Five year old Sian sat on the stone wall in his small, Irish village, licking a popsicle.  It was a relatively hot day, especially for Ireland.  His mother had scrimped and saved over the past week, hence the unexpected treat. 

They wouldn’t have to scrimp and save so much if the local earl, also Sian’s biological father, didn’t charge so much for beer and ale supplies.  It was hard to make a profit selling pints of beer and ale when the cost of supplies was so high.

Everyone called Sian a bastard and, technically, he had been born out of wedlock.  But only because Sian’s father, the Earl and the highest ranking aristocrat anyone from these parts would ever know, had decided to force himself on Sian’s mother one night. 

He licked the popsicle again, watching the horses off in the distance. Further beyond was the brewery that the earl owned.  Nearly everyone in the village either worked at that brewery or was indirectly impacted by the brewery’s success or failure. 

As he sat there on the ancient stone wall, one of his classmates came out of the house across the street from his perch.  The little girl had a red sweater draped around her shoulders, but before she made it to the end of the short pathway, the mother rushed out of the house and whipped the red sweater away.  Furtively, the mother glanced across the street and froze when she caught sight of Sian watching her.  She stared at Sian for a long moment, then quickly looked away as if she’d just done something wrong. 

His mother came out and sat down next to him.  “Mam, why does everyone in the village avoid wearing red?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he thought about other moments he’d witnessed villagers wearing red. 

There was a long silence until finally, Sian looked up at his mother, the popsicle forgotten for the moment. 

“It’s just…not a good color for some people’s complexion,” was all she said, but her voice was choked, as if there was a whole lot more to that explanation than she was willing to give.

Sian didn’t understand, but pretended he did.  Nodding, he turned and started licking his popsicle again, but the impression he had that the color red was dangerous stuck with him.  And he wasn’t exactly sure why. 

The Billionaire’s Club…The Beginning

 

“It’s a mess,” Matteo replied. 

Levi nodded his head. 

“Ye should tear it down, me friend.  The place is unstable,” Sian continued.

All three men leaned against the old stone wall, a wall that was crumbling since the mortar between the stones had deteriorated. 

“Why did your father leave this mess to you?” Matteo asked. 

The gentle wind lifted Levi’s dark hair as the trio continued to contemplate the building. 

“He left the business, money, and house in downtown Philadelphia to my half-brothers.” 

Sian snorted.  “They’re a bunch of idjiots!”  He looked at Levi.  “And the tabloids are speculating on yer true net worth, which they suspect is far beyond what ye’re father ever achieved.  If yer Da was trying to insult ye, he missed by a mile.”

Levi shrugged.  “Both of you are on the same, speculative list.”  He pulled his eyes away from the crumbling mess of a house that he’d recently inherited. 

Contemplating that comment, Sian asked, “Why do so many people speculate on another person’s wealth?  Why can’t they just go about their lives and be happy?  Comparison is the main ingredient to feeling bad about one’s life.”

The two other men shook their heads.  “No clue,” Matteo replied.  He made a grunting noise, then turned to Levi.  “So, what are your plans for this monstrosity?”

Levi contemplated the structure for a long moment.  “I have a wild idea, but…” he paused and swiveled away from the depressing view of the abused house. 

“But what?” Sian prompted, narrowing his eyes at his friend.  “Ye have an idea on how to get back at yer Da?”

Matteo watched his friend’s speculative expression, a slow grin forming.  “I have a feeling that this is going to be evil.”

Levi chuckled as he nodded.  “Remember that last piece of property the three of us were bidding on?”

Both Sian and Matteo nodded.  “And that bastard Glencairon underbid us by over one million pounds.”

Levi’s grin widened.  “Exactly.  Guess who is a member of this old rotting club?”

Sian and Matteo glanced at the building, then back at Levi.  “Are ye saying that…?”

“Exactly,” Levi confirmed.  “Why not beat them at their own game?”

Sian was definitely interested. “We suspected that there was a bit of conniving going on during that bidding process.  I recall we discussed the probability that there was some behind-the-scenes conversations occurring between Glencairon and the others.”  He paused for a moment as they contemplated that loss.  Sian looked over his shoulder at the house, then back at Levi and Matteo.  “Ye think that the old gossips will spill their guts here at this club?”

Matteo crossed his arms over his chest.  “If the alcohol is good enough.  And the women distracting.”

Levi emphatically shook his head.  “The waitresses that are currently employed here have been long abused by the members.  The turnover rate is sky high because the members think that the women who work here are available for a price. If the women don’t agree, the men force their opinion.”

Matteo stiffened, fury radiating from his expression.  “They don’t…!”

“They do,” Levi corrected with a grim nod.  “I’ve spoken with several of the ladies who work inside already.  They are fed up with the groping and the assaults.”

“Why haven’t they called the police?” Sian demanded. 

Levi shook his head in disgust.  “Because the men who assault them pay off the women.  Apparently, large sums of money are exchanged.”

“That’s…!” Sian started, only to stop and sigh.  “How are ye gonna change that?”

Levi considered the idea, then eyed the house again.  “Well, first, I need a new roof.  And to do that, I need to shut down the building to outsiders.”  He turned to look at his friends, his expression grim.  “I’ll pay the women during the renovations.  They deserve so much more.”

Sian folded his arms over his chest, nodding as he glanced at the house once more.  When he looked back at Levi, there was a glimmer in his eyes.  “Care to take on a partner?  I’m always ready to take down some bullies.”  His smile widened. “And after knowing the two of ye for the past few years, I’m pretty sure that is the direction ye’re heading, eh?”

Levi chuckled.  “That’s exactly my plan.”  He turned to look at Matteo.  “What do you think?  You’ve endured the brutal attentions of a bully father.  Care to turn the tables?  I can’t guarantee that we can provide retribution against the Marquesso, but maybe we can right the future wrongs for others.”

Matteo’s smile turned feral.  “I thought you’d never ask.” 

The three men chuckled, then walked down the long, cracked driveway towards the building.  There were only about twenty members at the house today.  But Levi, Sian, and Matteo walked around, making a list about the needed repairs. 

Later that evening, after the final member headed home, Levi locked the doors and put a sign up in the entryway window stating that the club was closed for renovations. 

Turning to face the wait staff, all of whom were silently clearing up the poker room, gathering glasses and cleaning off the tables. 

“Ladies, can we have a quick staff meeting?”

The women looked at him warily, fatigue evident in their expressions.  There were only four waitresses working at the moment, but their distrust was palpable. 

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” a blond waitress asked, irritation masking her exhaustion.  “We’ve been on our feet for about twelve hours now, and these shoes are about as uncomfortable as anything we’ve ever been required to wear.”

Levi looked at the spike heels and nodded.  “Sure.  It can wait until tomorrow.  However, I wanted all of you to know that we’re shutting down for about two months.”  At the looks of shock, he continued, lifting his hand up to stop their protests.  “I know that you depend on the money you earn here every night.  So I’ll be covering your salaries, and tips, during the shutdown.  Not only during the shut-down, but for the following two months until we can build membership back up.”

The blond looked back at him warily.  She glanced at the others, who looked unconvinced.  “Are you messing with us?”

Levi smiled and shook his head.  “You’re Emily, right?”

She hesitated, then jerked her head in a nod.  Defiantly, she kicked off her spike heels.  “Yeah.  I’m Emily.”  She crossed her arms over her ample chest.  “Are you messing with us?”

“Absolutely not,” Levi replied, then waved them towards the door.  “And you’re right.  You ladies have been working hard for way too long.  Why don’t we meet back here tomorrow to discuss the changes that we have in mind?”

Emily glanced at the other three waitresses, then back at Levi.  “Not a chance.  None of us will be able to sleep tonight if you don’t give us more information.  You’ve just told us that our jobs are in jeopardy.”  She straightened up, her chin jutting out defiantly.  “So, tell us.  What’s your plan?”

The Grand Opening

 

“It looks amazing!” Emily sighed as she stood next to Levi while they admired the newly finished main gambling room with the ornately carved, brightly polished bar that was fully stocked with top shelf spirits.  “Thank you.”

Levi didn’t respond as he looked at the team of waitresses that were moving around the poker room.  “Thanks for your help in making this happen,” he told her.  “You and your team’s advice were invaluable.”

Emily smoothed a hand down over the black vest covering her stomach.  “You and your friends delivered for us.  Being allowed to wear pants and long sleeves instead of the skimpy outfits will definitely help us feel more confident while working.”

He nodded acknowledgement, then turned to face her.  “Good.  And you know the rest of the plan?”

Emily laughed softly, nodding her agreement.  “Absolutely.  And I can’t believe how much you’re charging for new membership.”

Matteo joined them, a cup of coffee in his hand.  “They’ll pay it, once they know who the other members are.”

That sparked Emily’s curiosity.  “I’m guessing that the three of you have a few exciting friends that will be joining us for opening night?”

Sian sauntered up with a cup of coffee cup in hand.  “Oh aye!” he replied, his Irish accent in full force with his excitement.  “All of our friends from school and business are joining us tonight.”

“Who is coming?” Emily asked. 

Sian looked at Matteo.  “Edward said he’d stop by, right?”

Matteo nodded, thinking of the Duke of Finhearst.  “Si.  He and I are opening a factory in Greece.  He’s been there for the past few days overseeing the construction, but he promised he’d be here.”

“And Rami?” Levi asked.  “Anyone heard from him?”  The Sheik of Dita, Ramit al Qadar, was a bit of a wildcard. 

Sian muttered a curse.  “Not Ramit!  Please tell me we’re not letting that bastard into our numbers!”

Levi and Matteo chuckled at Sian’s horrified expression. 

“His plane landed two hours ago,” Matteo announced.  “And yes, I believe he has a new mistress.”

Sian rolled his eyes. “Of course he has a new mistress.  He’s the freaking Sheik of Ditr!  He has a harem of women tha’ follow him around.”  He grumbled a bit.  “Zahir doesn’t act like that though.  He’s a bit more…circumspect.  And he’s ruler of Sidrina.”

“Eh, you only hate Ramit because he beat you at poker in Tokyo last year.”

At the memory, Sian’s anger cleared, his expression shifting to anticipation.  “And tonight, I will win it all back.”

Emily watched the exchange, trying to absorb everything.  “A sheik?  A genuine sheik is coming tonight?”

“Two of them, actually.”  Sian huffed a bit.  “Don’t be too impressed, Em,” Sian interjected.  “He’s a royal bastard.  In the truest sense of the word.  He had to fight for his right to rule because his father wouldn’t marry Ramit’s mother.  Ramit was making his own way in the world when the Ditra council asked him to return and take over after his father passed away.”

Emily shivered.  “I remember reading about that battle.  But things are good now, right?”

Sian shrugged. “As well as possible under the circumstances.” 

Maggie, another waitress, hurried over to their group.  “I just got a final head count for our grand re-opening. There are over one hundred guests coming tonight.”  She looked at Emily.  “Maisey got a new job.  Ann and I have been working with the new staff and I think they are ready for tonight, but I’m worried about the temporary staff that are coming to help out just for the next few nights.  Are they good enough to handle the types of men that will be here tonight?  They are all captains of industry and we have experience with how demanding they are, but the newbies might be a bit more intimidated.”

Ann joined their group, looking a bit frazzled.  “The new chef is an ass,” she announced.

Sian chuckled.  “That he is, love.  But have you tried the appetizers he’s making for tonight’s opening?”

Ann shifted on her feet in her comfortable shoes, offering a dismissive shrug.  “Yeah.  I’ll admit that his food is good.” 

“Good?” Levi laughed.  “He’s great!”  He turned to Matteo.  “How in the world did you convince him to work for us?”

Matteo lifted his cup of coffee in the air as if dismissing the monumental feat.  “I am…persuasive.”

Emily chuckled, then straightened.  “Well, we have a great many last minute details to oversee.”  She looked at Ann and Maggie, both of whom nodded their agreement.  “Gentlemen,” Emily started, taking in all three men, “tonight is going to be a resounding success.  And I look forward to charging each and every bastard for their new annual membership fees.”

The ladies laughed as they turned and hurried away, each heading to their personal areas of responsibility. 

“Those three have definitely risen into their new roles, haven’t they?”

Levi nodded. “Emily was the perfect choice to promote to club manager.  She’s beautiful and smart.”  He grinned to the others.  “And she’s already provided insight to some extremely good intel.”

 

Several hours later, the club was packed with men in tuxedos, all with drinks in hand, patting themselves on the back with pompous pride at being invited to such an exclusive club.  The rural Pennsylvania “farm” was the perfect place for the elite of Philadelphia business men to gather away from the prying eyes of reporters, none of whom had been invited to tonight’s opening. 

The scotch and bourbon flowed like water.  Poker games were in full swing at every table.  There was a line of men waiting to prove their prowess at the pool tables and the outdoor patio was filled to overflowing.  The guest list had been only one hundred men, carefully selected for their financial net worth and influence within their respective industries.  But after word got out that the Duke of Finhearst, Sheik of Ditra, and Timothy what’s-his-name, the guy who revolutionized the fuel industry, would be attending, not to mention the three powerful new club owners, every wealthy man from around the world wanted to attend.  So the invitees showed up with two, sometimes three, additional guests. 

And then the whispers started circulating.  Rumors of who had already applied for membership flowed faster than the whiskey through the rooms.  As soon as word got out that Sheik Zahir of Sidrina had already been approved to be a member, a line started to form at the security office with each man demanding to be considered for membership. 

Matteo’s Father at the Club

 

“I must speak with my son,” Ricardo del Campo announced, attempting to push his way through the doors to the “TBC” clubhouse.  He jerked at his tailored sports jacket, then waited, staring pointedly at the woman standing in a fitted, but unrevealing pair of black pants, black vest and maroon, long sleeved shirt buttoned up to her neck.  The uniform was somehow feminine, but the message was clear; “Don’t Touch!”

Ricardo hated women that weren’t dressed in flowing dresses with heels that ensured that their legs were on proper display.  Furthermore, he disliked women who wore their hair up in tight knots.  Women’s hair should flow down over their shoulders, inviting a man to run his fingers through the silken tresses. 

Or grip a woman’s hair in his fist so that he could pull her down if she wasn’t adequately complying with his commands!

“I’ll see if Matteo is available, sir,” the impertinent woman replied. 

Blond.  That was the only redeeming quality in the bitch’s favor.  Ricardo watched as the blond woman walked away.  Nice ass, he thought.  He’d like to smack that ass with a whip!  She wouldn’t be so pert after a good whipping!  All women lost their impertinence after a good lashing.  He knew that from experience. 

Grimly, he smiled, contemplating how soft and…compliant…women were after such an experience.  He never had problems with his women after he treated them to the lash of his whip. 

That’s when he looked around, realizing where he was.  The bitch had left him standing in the foyer of the damn clubhouse!  He should have been shown into a private room and offered a drink.  Hell, there wasn’t even a chair for him! 

Not that he would have seated himself.  Sitting meant that he would be shorter than anyone approaching him.  That would leave him in the weaker position and Ricardo preferred being in a position of power.  His height allowed him to look down on most people. 

Furious at the insult at being left in the foyer like a common peasant, he strode to the doors, determined to push through and find that bitch.  He’d teach her a lesson for insulting him in such a manner! 

But at the first touch of the door, he felt an electric shock.  Violently pulling his hand away, Ricardo stared at the doorknob.  Was the maldito knob actually electrified? 

Curious, he reached out a finger and, sure enough – a spark jolted his finger. 

Suddenly, the door opened and a large man stepped through, closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Who are you?” Ricardo challenged, irritated and feeling as if he were being treated like a prisoner. 

“I’m the head of security here at the club,” the man replied, his tone grim and menacing. 

Ricardo waited, but the big guy just stood there, his hands folded in front of him. 

“And?” he demanded.

The big guy merely shrugged.  “I saw you on the security cameras trying to get into the main club.”  He paused for a moment, then continued. “I’m stationed here to ensure that only members pass through these doors.”

Ricardo hissed with fury.  “Are you seriously denying me access to my son’s private club?”

The man shrugged again.  The gesture was infuriating. 

Ricardo straightened up to his full height, which wasn’t anything near the guard’s monstrous level.  “Where is my son?  I demand to speak with my son!”

The man’s expression didn’t change in any way.  “Mr. Del Campo is currently in a meeting.”

Ricardo wanted to punch the man!  If he had his whip here, this neanderthal wouldn’t dare disrespect him like this. 

He huffed a bit.  “Did you inform my son that I was here, waiting to speak with him?”  Ricardo waited for a fraction of a second, not giving the man a chance to reply.  “Obviously, you didn’t.  Otherwise, Matteo would be here now.”  He jerked at the tailored lapels of his jacket again.  “I demand that you inform my son that I’m here.”

The man merely tilted his head slightly.  “Mr. Del Campo has been informed of your presence, sir.”

Ricardo could barely contain his fury at this news.  “First of all, you will address me as ‘my lord’, as befits my rank.  Secondly, my son would never leave me here waiting.  Which means that you are lying and I will have you fired!”

The man didn’t seem overly concerned by the threat.  In fact, he looked away, then nodded.  He touched his ear and Ricardo suddenly noticed he was wearing an earpiece.  The guard nodded at whatever was being said, then lowered his hands, again folding them calmly in front of him. 

“Mr. Del Campo has just conveyed that he will be downstairs momentarily.  Sir.”

Ricardo was sure that the last word was added just to rile him.  Refusing to let an ignorant bull of a man know that the idiot had gotten under his skin, he stepped back, nodded as regally as possible under the circumstances, then turned away, pretending to admire the painting hanging over the fireplace.  It was an original, he suspected.  Or an excellent copy. 

A moment later, the double doors opened and Matteo, the bastard, stepped out.  He even shook the behemoth’s hand, thanking him.  “Excellent job!”

“My pleasure, Mr. Del Campo,” the idiot muttered.  “Do you need me to remain here?”

Matteo actually had the gall to glance over at Ricardo, his own father, before shaking his head.  “No.  Gracias.” 

Ricardo waited until the other man disappeared into the club before he ripped into his son.  “How dare you keep me waiting like some…beggar!” he hissed.  “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”

“Good afternoon, Ricardo,” Matteo replied, leaning back against the door trim.  “What brings you to Philadelphia?”

Ricardo ignored the insult of his son using his first name, as if they were equals.  He had bigger issues.  “I came to gain membership to your…club.”  He waved his fingers in the air.  “I’ve heard from several people that you’ve done an adequate job of refurbishing this old monstrosity.  So, I’m here to support you.”

“No.”

Ricardo was just about to launch into a list of other demands, such as the key to Matteo’s penthouse condo in the city, when that one word registered.  “No?  What do you mean, no?”

Matteo sighed and pushed away from the door.  “Ricardo, before coming downstairs, I did a credit check on you.”  He shrugged indifferently.  “You don’t have the funds for the initial year’s annual dues, much less the monthly dues.”

“Infierno!  I will not pay dues! You are my son!  It is my right as your father to be a member of your silly club!”

Matteo shook his head.  “If you can’t pay the dues, then you are ineligible for membership, Ricardo.”

He was so furious at this outrageous treatment that it took Ricardo several moments to come up with a reply.  He moved very close, irritated that his son was taller than his six foot height.  “If you don’t let me into your club, and treat me with the respect that I deserve, then I will malign your ridiculous club all over the world!  Do you understand me?  I will ruin you!”

Matteo straightened, still looking bored.  “Ricardo, you don’t seem to understand.  If you speak ill of me, in any way, then I will mention to every member of this club, which includes rulers, European aristocrats and heads of just about every industry, that you are a pauper.”  His eyes hardened.  “You don’t even have the funds to return to Spain, Ricardo.”  He shook his head in disgust and turned back to the doors. “Don’t ever bother me again.” 

Before Ricardo could speak, the front door to the hotel opened.  A burst of laughter preceded several men into the foyer. 

“Lord del Campo!” one called out.  “I didn’t know that you had joined our little club!”

Ricardo quickly straightened his jacket again, fumbling for words.  But he was nothing if not quick.  “Alas, I am not a member.  I simply flew in today to speak with my son.”

“Well, it’s great to see you!” the man replied, shaking Ricardo’s hand effusively.  Americans!  They didn’t know how to be circumspect!  Nor did they understand how to treat their betters! 

“I look forward to our next meeting,” Ricardo replied, enduring the handshake for only a moment.  Then he rushed out of the building. 

Before he slipped into the back of the limousine he’d rented for the trip, he looked up at the clubhouse.  Now that he was outside, he could see the beauty of the structure.  Whoever had renovated the place had done an excellent job.  But he’d never admit that he thought so. 

Slipping into the backseat, he ordered his driver to take him back to the airport.  He’d fly back on a commercial flight.  But this latest insult had to be dealt with.  Somehow, he needed to prop up his financial situation.  And once he was back in his position of power, he would crush that boy!

The Earl

 

“Put on the red dress!”

Maeve watched in disgust as the man strode through the small cottage.  She didn’t bother to hide the revulsion in her eyes, but, she did put on a fake smile and leaned one hand against the table, bracing herself for what would come next. 

“No.” 

Martin O’Clary, the Earl of Wiston, glared at the too-thin woman.  He knew he didn’t give her enough money for food, but he didn’t really care.  She was merely a convenient body and, when he got bored with her, there were dozens more women roaming the street who could take her place. 

Livid at her defiance, Martin stalked towards her with an outward calm.  He stopped less than two inches away, staring down into her now-nervous gaze.  He didn’t say anything for a long moment.  Then, out of nowhere, he swung his hand in a vicious, upward arc, slapping the woman with the back of his hand. 

She fell to the floor and Martin stared down at her, his anger dissipating now that she was cowering. 

“Put on the red dress.”

The woman…Maud?  Mary?  He couldn’t remember this one’s name…wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her hand.  Before he decided to hit her again, she was scrambling across the floor, heading into the small bedroom to do his bidding. 

Martin sighed with approval and took off his wool sports jacket, setting it neatly on the back of one of the two chairs in the small kitchen-den area.  Then he reached for the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt.  There was a momentary burst of anger when he remembered his bastard son, Sian, wore gold cufflinks.  No buttons for that filthy bastard! 

And how the hell had Sian gotten so high and mighty?  The bastard was wealth…a billionaire many times over according to several reports.  Martin figured that he’d have to take care of the boy at some point.  He’d read an article recently that talked about the new generation of billionaires and Martin had nearly ground his teeth to powder when he’d seen Sian’s name on the top of that list. 

Maeve opened the bedroom door and Martin turned.  Suddenly, all thoughts of his bastard son vanished as she stepped out in a red dress with spaghetti straps.  He knew that she wore nothing underneath because he’d ordered her to do that the first time he’d explained her duties several months ago. 

“Assume the position!” he ordered, then stepped back from the kitchen chair and watched with a burning hunger as the gaunt bitch carefully placed her hands, palms flat, on the kitchen table. 

“Bend over!” he bellowed, then smacked her butt to make her move faster.  “I have an important business meeting in twenty minutes.  Move faster!”

The woman bent lower and Martin stared at the pale globes, grinning with anticipation. 

 

Sian nodded to the brewery owner.  “How many employees on staff?” he asked, following the man as they walked down the center path lined with the operation’s fermentation tanks. 

“We have fifty employees currently on staff, but during the holidays, we have another twenty that we can call upon for special events.”

“Good.”  Sian noted with approval at the cleanliness of the brewing kettles.  “And what’s your distribution system?  How many stores stock your product?”

The current brewery manager smiled with pride.  “In the past ten years, we’ve expanded from just local pubs to over one thousand stores and pubs.  We’re all over the UK, Europe, and US.  If all goes well,  next month, we’re pushing to get into Russia.” 

Sian nodded his approval and kept walking.  He didn’t really care about the craft beers or the distribution.  His main goal was to thwart his father.  The earl had an odd interest in the brewery business.  The idiot had run the other businesses that he’d inherited into the ground and now, the maintenance of his estate in Ireland was financed entirely by the small brewery and pub situated in the nearby village. 

The same pub where his mother used to work.  The pub where his evil excuse for a father had raped her. 

“I have another buyer,” the manager announced, bringing Sian’s focus back to the present. 

Sian looked around, reminding himself that he was no longer the scared, vulnerable kid that had to run and hide whenever his father deigned to visit the pub.  The man  had enjoyed smacking Sian around and everyone in the village knew it.  None had bothered to call the Irish government to have the pathetic aristocrat arrested for child abuse though. 

“How much is your other buyer offering?” Sian asked, fully aware that the “other buyer” was his father. 

The manager quoted a price and Sian’s smile was slow and triumphant.  He then named a price that was twenty-five percent higher than the amount his father had offered. 

The manager’s jaw dropped for a stunned moment, then he nodded eagerly.  “It’s a deal!”

Sian shook the man’s hand, feeling a sense of satisfaction flow through him.  “I’ll have my lawyers draw up the papers.  I’ll transfer earnest money to a holding account immediately,” he said, then pulled out his phone to send a message to his accountant. 

 

Martin ended the call and carefully, slowly, slid his cell phone back into the inside pocket of his jacket.  Sitting in his office, he considered his options.  The bastard had stolen his new acquisition!  The bastard boy had too much money to toss around! 

Surely, there was a way to stop this!  Martin needed a wider distribution network!  He loved beer, but his real need was a way to ship “products” to a wide range of customers.  And his damn bastard son was thwarting every damn opportunity! 

As he sat at his desk, Martin considered various options for stopping the bastard.  But every idea was bad.  Martin knew that he wasn’t the savviest when it came to business.  Hell, he was miserable at business.  That was why he’d reached out to some less than savory companions.  And those unsavory business partners needed a stealthy way into the American market. 

Beer was the perfect guise because everything was bottled and shipped in large, metal containers.  It was the perfect way to get his product through customs and the border inspections. 

He’d just have to be smarter and faster the next time a brewery came on the market, Martin decided. 

The antique, crystal paperweight flew across the room, shattering a glass cabinet and strewing its contents everywhere.  The noise was very satisfying as everything hit the floor.