Page 233 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Declan

"Why the fuck can’t you tell her that you’re here? She’d have wanted to know. She’d have felt reassured that you were here to support her."

"And that’s exactly why I can’t afford it.

" I peer through the floor-to-ceiling window of the VIP room. It’s positioned above the cheering crowds that react to her every move, that sing along to the chorus of her song that went viral online.

She prances about on stage in that silvery dress that hugs her every curve.

And when she kicks up her leg, the strip of skin between the hem of the dress and the thigh-high boots she’s wearing has the crowd going crazy.

I curl my fingers into a fist and press my knuckles against glass.

With the lights focused on her as she moves, she’s exquisite.

And shimmering. A spark, a star, a flare of light that’s a beacon in the dark night.

She's entrancing, enticing, and after tonight, she's no longer mine. She belongs to the world, to her fans. She’s going to go straight to the top, and I’ve always known it.

She’ll be the story that critics talk about whenever they want to refer to an overnight success.

She’s the kind of woman dreams are made of.

The kind who was never meant to be hidden away.

All that talent, that stage presence, that ability to keep gazes fixed on her as she throws back her hair and belts out the song.

With her hands clasped together in front of her, she’s both demure and a seductress.

A virgin and a whore. My whore. My cunt. My woman. No longer.

She belongs to them—the fans. And I did my bit in bringing her here. I allow my gaze to dwell on her features. Even at this distance, I think I can make out the curve of her lips, the sweep of her eyebrows, those luxurious eyelashes that she raises… And fixes her gaze on me.

I freeze. With the lights in her face, I know she can’t see me. I’m sure of that. And yet, she tilts her head as if sensing my presence. She moves forward in my direction, arm outstretched. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Impossible; she can’t see me.

"She can’t see you," Rick confirms.

But her instinct must tell her I'm here. I can almost see the moment she changes her mind and turns away from me. She struts over to the guitar player. She places her hand on his chest, leans in, and he joins her in the chorus.

"Fucking hell!" Anger burns a trail down my gullet. My stomach ties itself in knots. Of course she’s found someone else. That was the plan all along. But moving onto someone else so quickly… is not something I thought would happen.

I grab a bottle of water and throw it against the wall.

The bottle bounces off and hits the floor, then rolls away.

Goddamn, even my anger doesn’t have an edge to it anymore.

How pathetic have I become? Hiding here and watching her, then unable to give vent to my rage.

I pivot and stomp toward the exit, Rick in tow.

He, mercifully, stays quiet as I head up the stairs and toward the heliport on the roof of the performance center.

It’s the only way I could make it here without losing time in transit.

The helicopter will take me back to the private landing strip and then, from there, I’ll take the plane back to New Zealand, with one more stopover.

I reach the door that opens onto the helipad, when Rick touches my arm. "You okay, Dec?"

I shake off his hold. "Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?"

"It meant nothing what she did; probably just caught up in the performance."

"What-fucking-ever," I snap.

"Keep telling yourself that. You could prevent all this. Just let her know you’re here, meet her once—"

"I need to get back."

"You made it all the way here. You just need to stay another half an hour, and the performance will be over," he says in a low voice.

"That’s half an hour I don’t have. I need to leave now if I want to make my next meeting."

He hesitates. "As your friend and head of your security, I have to caution you that the person you’re going to see—"

"Yes, I know, he’s part of an organized crime syndicate, blah, blah, I understand."

"Do you?" He folds his arms across his chest. "Dealing with men like him—"

"—will get me the rest of the funding I need for my film."

"I don’t understand why you need that." He shifts his weight between his feet. "Wasn’t the shooting well underway?"

"Half the investors pulled out. I’ve underwritten the expenses to the extent I could, but there’s still a gap that needs filling."

"Isn’t it risky—"

"To put my own money in the film? Hell, yeah. Spending it in a casino would be a better gamble. But this is the vehicle that launches me as a leading man, and if I don’t have faith in myself, then what kind of an actor I am, eh?"

He searches my features, then nods. "You’re determined to make this happen."

"Fuck, yeah."

He pulls out his phone; his fingers fly over the screen. My phone dings, and I pull it out to take a look at the details he sent me.

"Thanks, man."

"Don't thank me." He looks away and mumbles, "I hope to fuck I don’t regret it."

"You’re going to fucking regret this," Cade growls at me.

An hour from my destination, he and Knight called me on the plane.

I almost didn't answer the call, then realized I couldn’t evade them forever.

I already missed our last two weekly catchups.

If I missed this one, too, they’d probably call Rick and insist he have me call them back.

I saved us all some time by taking the call.

When I told them my plan, Cade was the first to explode.

"Not sure why you’re against it, considering it’s the kind of crowd you ran with not too long ago."

Cade’s gaze narrows. "It’s because I ran with a gang and got involved with organized crime that I know what you’re doing is going to end with you paying a price."

"If it helps me get my movie made—" I raise a shoulder.

"You’re not thinking straight, douchebag. So what if this production shuts down? There’ll be others," Cade argues.

I shake my head. "No, there won’t be. It might be decades before this director, and this script, and this kind of cast are able to get together again. I can’t wait until then. I need this movie out. It’s exactly what I need to take me to the top."

"Is that what you want? Making it to the top?" Knight asks slowly.

"You know I do."

"And you want it more than her?"

I hesitate.

"Do you?" Knight presses.

I blow out a breath. "Yes. Yes, I do."

There’s silence, then Knight’s lips curve. "You’re doing a great job of fooling yourself, but I don’t believe you."

"You can believe what you want; it doesn’t matter. I’m going through with this. And if this is the only way I’m going to get a loan to keep the production running, then so be it."

"You’re a motherfucking obstinate arse,"—Cade shakes his head—"but if you’ve set your mind on it—"

"I have."

"Let me come along with you to the meeting."

"No fucking way. You’re the bloody captain of the English cricket team. The last thing you need is to be seen associating with the likes of this man."

"And you can afford it?" Cade narrows his gaze.

I raise a shoulder. "I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes you do,” Knight draws himself up to his full height. “I’ll finance the film.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to turn our friendship into a relationship based on money—” Knight begins to speak, but I hold up my hand. “You guys are my friends. And bringing money into the equation is the fastest route to losing our connection.”

Cade turns to Knight, “Tell him how wrong he is, will ya?”

“Much as I hate to admit it, I understand what he means.” Knight firms his lips, “Hell, I even respect it.”

Cade gapes. “You’re encouraging this harebrained scheme of his?”

Knight jerks his chin in my direction. “If you can’t take money from us, how about the Seven? Or JJ, or even the Sovranos?”

“All of whom I count among my friends, and I will not be indebted to them,” I point out.

“It’s not a debt. They’d be investing money in your project,” Cade growls.

I set my jaw “And there’s less than a one percent chance of any of them seeing their money come back.”

“It’s the nature of being an investor.” Knight narrows his gaze.

“Precisely, and given the high probability they’d never see their money again, I’m not going to ask people I’ve come to regard as friends to invest. No, it needs to be someone who not only has the money to take the risk, but if he were to lose the money, it wouldn’t impact my personal relationship with them.

It needs to be a purely business transaction.

Also—” I prop my palms on my hips. “The person I have in mind for the investment has the contacts needed to fast-track the production on the ground.”

“I changed my mind. Not only are you a motherfucking, obstinate arse, you’re also a nincompoop,” Cade snaps.

“Careful, or I’ll think you care for me.” I half smile.

He glowers. “You’re determined to turn your life upside down, eh?”

I shrug. “Comes with the territory. Making movies is a high-stakes business. If I pull this one off, it’ll change the course of my life.” Again. And in more ways than one.

"You should take Rick with you." Knight leans forward on the balls of his feet.

I rake my fingers through my hair. That would have been my preference, too, but I’d rather he stay back and take care of Solene’s security. There’s no one I trust more than Rick with her safety. Other than myself, that is. And I can’t be there with her, so this is the next best thing.

"It’s best I do this on my own. If there’s a price to pay, I’d prefer it be me rather than involving any of you."

"You’re taking a big risk." Knight’s forehead creases. "I’d rather you not do this, but if there’s no other way—"

"There isn’t."

Knight and Cade grow quiet. "If I can’t stop you, then I’ll back you, man," Knight says.

I glance at Cade, who regards me with an angry gaze. For a few seconds, I’m sure he’s going to continue to voice his objections. Then, he jerks his chin. "Fuck that, if this is what you want to do, then I’m in your corner."

"But remember—" Knight lowers his chin to his chest. "If you don’t call us within an hour of meeting him, we’re on the next flight there."

"One-hundred million dollars. That’s a lot of money." Nikolai Solonik, the New York-based head of the Bratva in the US, taps his fingers together.

Rick’s a managing partner in the security agency run by Karina Solonik Beauchamp, who’s Niko’s brother, as well as my brother Arpad’s wife. She wasn't happy when I told her of my plan, but finally agreed to help.

"It’s a fraction of the kind of money you and I are used to dealing with," I drawl.

His lips curve a fraction.

"If it were that easy to drum up this kind of financing, you wouldn’t be here."

"And if you didn’t want to be a part of Tinseltown, you wouldn’t have agreed to see me." I raise a shoulder.

He tilts his head, a considering look in his eyes. "You think that’s why I’m entertaining financing your film?"

"To have your name up there as one of the producers of a possible Oscar-winning, box-office thumping movie? Fuck, yeah."

His smile widens. "You’re not wrong. But there are easier ways of making money. In fact, as you and I know, there is a ninety-nine percent chance I'll never see this money again."

"And you know I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t ninety-nine point nine-nine percent sure about the bankability of this film." I cross my ankle over my other knee.

"You’re here because, while you have financiers lined up and you’re pouring your own money into it, you still have a gap you need to fill."

So, he’s aware of the financing structure of my film. Just as I’m aware of how keen he is to find a legal route to investing his money. I tap my foot on the floor. "A gap right up your alley."

He narrows his gaze. "It still leaves a margin of doubt on the return of my investment."

"A risk well worth it for the kind of fame and entrée to Hollywood this movie could give you."

He drums his fingers on the table between us. "It’s true, I’ve wanted to get a foothold in Hollywood for a while—"

"And to do it with the leading star in the industry? You’ll never get this chance again, and you know it."

He stills his fingers. "I’ll invest the money."

I lean forward in my chair. "But?"

He blinks. A look of respect comes into his eyes. "Smart of you to realize just the admission into Hollywood isn’t enough for me to invest the money."

I hold his gaze. "What’s your condition?"