Page 25 of Hunt Me
“It’s Candy. We enjoyed a very lovely evening together.”
Of course her name was Candy. The women were all the same, vacuums of air using their sex appeal in hopes of attracting their future extremely wealthy husbands. I did hope plastic surgeons were paid well.
The mystery woman had been entirely different, unassuming while holding her own not only with the asshole who’d dared touch her, but with a man considered a predator. I admired her greatly for that. Perhaps that’s why my cock was twitching just thinking about requiring her surrender. I envisioned the perfect angel on her knees with her luscious lips wrapped around my cock.
“I think it’s time for you to return to your friends.”
“But… But wouldn’t you enjoy another night together?” Blondie tipped her head, allowing her fake eyelashes to skim across her cheeks.
“No.” I stepped away from her, ignoring her cry of indignation. I’d learned a long time ago forgetting their names and eventuallytheir faces was in my best interest. How ironic the woman who’d refused to provide her name was the single one I craved discovering.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” the blonde snarled.
“Yes, I am. The sooner you realize that, the better.”
She was still cursing my name as I walked away. Fortunately, she knew not to push the issue. While outwardly I was seen as a gentleman, those who crossed me in any manner knew better.
Perhaps tonight would be quiet, a welcome change. When liquor, the promise of sex, and money were involved, there were usually squabbles. Some were easily handled, a warning given, a guest ushered to the doors after calling them a taxi.
Only a few escalated to the point where I was required to become involved. Rarely were police needed. Maybe I should be thankful tonight was quiet.
I’d walked through every entertainment venue including the restaurants to satisfy the gnawing in my gut. Or perhaps to see if by chance the stunning mystery woman had made a return visit.
No such thing.
I’d checked the suite only after being notified she’d left, even standing over the bed where I’d fucked her. When I’d pulled her pillow to my face, I’d laughed as my behavior had certainly been unusual since meeting her. She’d had a fascinating effect on me, which was one reason I had no interest in another woman.
Sighing, I returned to the corridor, heading to my office. She would have no issue finding exactly what she was looking for.
Tonight, I’d soothe the beast by wallowing in money. The thought made me chuckle. I had all the fascinating toys money could buy yet remained unhappy.
My brothers had teased me relentlessly, Kazimir even going as far as to suggest I needed to see a shrink. They were perfectly content living the playboy life, basking in the thrill of being eligible bachelors.
There wasn’t a woman under fifty who wouldn’t agree to marriage with either one. Money and sex were often fused together, especially in town where there was such an extreme divide between the rich and poor.
After walking into my office, I grabbed a bottle of water from the bar refrigerator before sitting behind my desk. I flipped open the lid of my laptop, immediately typing in my secure code. While I wasn’t the CFO, I’d been taught a long time ago never to take my eye off the ball for even one second. That’s when disaster or betrayal struck.
Everyone knew I was a hands-on CEO. Even my father, a man who rarely offered a single compliment, had clapped me hard on the back, stating he was proud of me.
I pulled open the latest set of financials, initially gazing at the bottom line before digging into assets. Profits were up significantly.
Owning a billion-dollar business certainly had its perks, hard work and due diligence often taking years to achieve. Some said business ventures were the measure of a man. Maybe so, but I also appreciated the underlying reason for our wealth and success.
The very reason for being top dogs in the city.
And it had little to do with hard work.
I navigated to our stock portfolio, the snapshot provided by our team of financial advisors. I sat back, drumming my fingers on the desk. As an eighteen-year-old enforcer, if anyone had told me I’d be fighting wars with hackers, security experts, attorneys, accountants, financial advisors, and marketing experts, I would have laughed in their face.
And potentially beaten them to a pulp afterwards.
But here I was, a man who’d graced the covers ofFortunemagazine as well asPeople, losing out to Liam Hemsworth as the sexiest man alive. I’d found it comical. Women found it irresistible.
The knock on the door drew me out of what suddenly felt like drudgery. I closed the lid as one of my lead security personnel walked in.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Dmitriyev, but Sergio asked if I’d come find you.”
“What’s going on?” If Sergio asked for my help, there was a situation that likely had little to do with the casino.
