Wicked while he watches -the billionaire's secret (claire and the billionaire)

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WickedWhile He Watches: The Billionaire’s Secret

by

MercedesEva Nordstrom

 

Chapter1

Claire Silk was terrified. She felt like her handswere tied. Daniel’s probably were, she realized. Tears welled in her eyes. The ransomnote came five days after they had lost contact with her husband Daniel in thejungles of Columbia. He had gone there to survey for valuable deposits of goldand oil, and now he was a captive. She was relieved to know that he was alive,but so afraid for him. She gripped the steering wheel tight and kept her eyeson the road.

She knew it was common for people to be kidnapped inColumbia. The good thing was that if they got the ransom money, hostages wereusually released. But they were demanding $800,000. More than the companythought he was worth, or at least more that they were willing to pay, and muchmore than she could possiblyraise. Even if she triedto borrow against, or sell the house, it wouldn’t be enough. Daniel was a greatat what he did and he made a lot of money for the company, too much it seemednow, since the kidnappers chose him as their hostage.

Claire drove into the parking lot of Fawcett Global.Expensive was the only adjective to describe everything about the building. Thefountain in front of it probably cost more than $800,000. Full of indignationand desperation, she tried to bottle her fury and her tears.  A curl fellloose from the tight bun she had secured her dark brown hair in. She wanted tolook together, not like the mess she felt inside. All she could think of wasDaniel. He was everything. She thought of his warm body holding her close. Whenhis arms were around her he made her feel so safe, like nothing elsemattered.  And without him, nothing did.

She tucked the stray lock behind her ear, andstraightened her clothes when she got out of the car. It was too warm out forher tailored gray pantsuit, but she wore it any way. It was her power suit, andif she ever needed a confidence boost it was now.  Her figure was curviersince she wore it last. The pants were tighter and the jacket fuller with herrounder cleavage.  Her heels clacked over the pavement as she walked tothe entrance. Once she got to the front door, security stopped her in hertracks.

“Can I see your badge?” one of the goons dressed ina blue uniform asked.

“I don’t have one. My husband works here. Let me goin,” she said through gritted teeth with an attempt at a friendly smile.“Please,” she added. She nearly burst into tears out of sheer frustration. She’dpsyched herself up to talk to this billionaire. Now she couldn’t even get inthe building.

“Sorry, Ma’am.That’s not how it works. What’s your name? We’ll see if you’re on the list,”the bulk of a man shot back.

She nodded.“Fine.I amClaire Silk,” she stated calmly. Lifting her gaze to his eyes, she bit backsaying what she really wanted to.  One man stood at the door while theother went inside. Soon he returned.

“She’s cleared. Go in, Ma’am and check in at thefront desk.” Claire gave them an insincere flash of a smile and strode throughthe door. At the desk they took her picture and made her a badge to wear.Questions followed. Who do you want to see? Why? We’ll check to see if you can.She waited and waited. Then suddenly a well-dressed young man came to escorther to Nick Fawcett, the billionaire owner and CEO of Fawcett Global. They sashayed through the sleek corridors then took the elevator to the topfloor. After more security hassles at more levels, she was finally admittedinto his office.

He wasn’t there.

It looked like a billionaire’s office. The desk wasprobably worth $800,000, never mind the art collection. And what was $800,000to a billionaire anyway?Next to nothing.  Shewas standing there growing even angrier, when he came in. About fifty fiveyears old, he was trim, not bad looking, with dark brown cold eyes. His hairwas probably fifty shades of gray. He looked her in the eyes only, commandingall her attention with his solid stare and his powerful presence. Claire feltlike a little girl. Her power suit wasn’t effective at all. How was she goingto do what she came here to do? Ask him to have the decency to pay the ransomfor her husband. And if he didn’t, tell him what she thought about it in somany scathing hateful words.

“How are you Mrs. Silk? I am so sorry for Daniel’strouble,” his voice had no regret or compassion in it. His manner was as if shewere inconsequential, replaceable, disposable, like he obviously felt herhusband was.

“I am devastated, Mr. Fawcett. I’ve come here to askyou to reconsider paying the ransom.” Her voice was unsteady and her bodytrembled with all she felt: helplessness, overwhelming sorrow, fear, and hate,more loathing than she had ever felt for anyone.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Mrs. Silk,” he said outof the blue as if he hadn’t heard what she said, as if her begging was notworth acknowledging.

“If I am, so what?” she hissed. Fuck him. He eyedher body making her feel like she was on display, like she was standing therenaked. She felt like running from the room, but she held her own.  Shewould not walk out of this room, until he answered her question.  Danielwas all that mattered.

“How much do you want the ransom?” he shot back soforcefully that she gasped and took a few steps back unsteady now in her highstiletto heels.

“I’d sell my soul for it,” she confessed quietly.Daniel was the only man she ever loved. She couldn’t live with herself if shedidn’t do all she could to save his life.

“How about your body?” he growled back andlasciviously eyed her up and down, then locked his gaze on her frightened blueeyes. “You wouldn’t actually have to sell it; just give it to me whenever Ihave use for it.”

“You want me to sleep with you for $800,000?” Claireasked, confused, dumbstruck.  Is this really what he wanted? She’d do it,she instantly thought.  If that would get her husband back, she could bearit. She’d just think of Daniel. He would never have to know.

“It’s not quite that simple,” he stated steppingnearer to her. She could smell a hint of his expensive aftershave. “How muchwould you do to free your husband?”

“I don’t understand,” she confessed, but she wasdriven now by a hope that her husband could be returned to her, that there wassome way to convince him to pay the ransom.

“You’d have to do whatever I want you to. Some ofit, you probably wouldn’t want to do, but you’d have to act like you liked it.Maybe you will like it, or will after a while. ” A low growl of a laugh slippedthrough his lips and he walked over to his chair behind the gloriously carvedmahogany desk. Sitting, his gaze never left hers. “So you do have a choice.You’re in control of your husband’s destiny.”

Claire started to breath heavy. Panic was grippingher. She loved Daniel. She couldn’t let him be executed in the jungle. “I’ll doit, whatever it is.” She stepped over to his desk and sat in the blackcrocodile leather upholstered armchair chair in front of it facing him, leaning forward eager to get the $800,000 to free her husband. She could feelthe cool leather seat through her pantsuit.

He sat back in his chair. A merciless smile playedon his lips and his cold eyes were full of excitement.

“This will be a contractual obligation. Do you consentto that?” Another question she wasn’t expecting. There was no going backnow.  There was nothing he could do to her that she couldn’t withstand forDaniel.

“Where do I sign?” she replied matching his stareand squaring her jaw. Prepared to risk her fate for her husband’s sake, shealtered her mindset and accepted the billionaire’s proposition.

The contents of the document were shockingly vague.The language was convoluted and it was unclear as to exactly what she wasagreeing to.

She was starting to get alarmed so she stoppedreading and just signed it. There was no option in her mind to do anythingelse.  She set the piece of paper on his desk in front of him and stoodthere like a servant waiting to be dismissed. She shifted nervously in her tallheels and flushed as she realized that she was his to command.

He tilted his head back, eyes revealing thesatisfaction that his total conquest of her gave him. A diabolical smile spreadover his face, making Claire realize that in fact she practically had sold hersoul to the devil.

“We’ll start tonight at 2 o’clock in the morning.I’ll have everything ready.” His tone was commanding and cold.

“Tonight,” she gasped. Oh, God! What had she agreedto? Was this really happening?“Two in the morning.Are you kidding?”

“Two, that’s what I said, Claire,” he remarked. Shenoted that now she was Claire to him, not Mrs. Silk.

“What are you going to do to me, Nick?” she asked,even though she knew he wouldn’t tell her and she was afraid to know.  Sheregretted ever coming there.But, no.Daniel. Sheloved him. She couldn’t let him die.

“That’s Mr. Fawcett,’” he corrected her. “And you’llfind out soon enough. Sit down again, Claire,” he directed ignoring thequestion. She obeyed and perched on the edge of the seat.  Her head wasswimming.

“When will my husband be returned? Will you pay theransom tomorrow?” she asked.

“No, not tomorrow,” he said matter-of-factly. A hardstare that didn’t match his smile faced her. “I said you’d get your 800,000grand and your husband back. But there are conditions. All you have to do issatisfy my needs. If you can’t do that then the deal is broken. Do youunderstand?”

“I’ll be here tonight at 2,” she returned hardeningher resolve and steadying her voice.

“Not here. Here’s the address.  And take this.You can’t get in unless you show it.” He handed her a piece of paper and a coinwith a black boar on it.  “See you later,” he said with a gleam in hiseye.

“Yes,” she replied not realizing that there was moreto his last comment than she could ever have dreamed.

 

Claire had no trouble staying up that night. She hadhardly slept since Daniel was kidnapped. And now the dread of what was going tohappen to her, kept her eyes open and staring at Daniel’s jacket hanging on a pegby the door where he left it. The digital clock read 12:59, and then blinked to1:00.  Claire was sitting at her kitchen table waiting. She had a dresson, the quintessential little black dress, with red stiletto heels. It was timeto go.

She drove in quiet for forty five minutes. It seemedlike four hours. And she had too much time to reconsider, to tellherselfthat she could just swing the car around and headhome. But then the reality of it revealed itself to her again. It wasn’t a homewithout Daniel. She pressed on, clutching the steering wheel and drove over thedarkened roadway. Every possible scenario played in her head, except the onethat actually awaited her. It was more than she could have imagined NickFawcett would have in store for her.

She found herself at a fortress of a house set allby itself far on the outskirts of some little town. It was surrounded by tallpines and enclosed by a twelve foot high iron fence. She drove up to the gateand rolled down her window as the gatekeeper approached.  She held herhand up and opened her palm revealing the coin. He nodded and pushed a buttonfor the heavy tall gates to open and let her pass. Claire drove on over arounded cobblestone drive until she was at the house.

The stunning house was huge. Did she expect anythingless? There were no cars in sight. She parked in front of the house. A man shotout of nowhere. “I’ll park it for you, Ma’am. Go right in.”Valetparking.Claire’s stomach tightened, so fearful of what was to come. Theman took her keys and was off. Her car disappeared behind a bend. Dreading eachstep she approached the door. Her hand began to reach for a jeweled button sheassumed was the doorbell, but before she could press it, the door flew openedand an arm pulled her in.  A scowling bald fat man had her by the arm. Apanicky whimper slipped through her lips and was met with an angry whispertelling her to shut up.  Through corridors that seemed to be hidden in thewalls of the house, she was practically dragged by the man. Then he stopped infront of a door, turned the knob and pushed it open.

“Go in there. Put that on and wait,” he ordered. Whothe hell was he? Claire was truly afraid. Surprisingly there were a lot ofclothes hanging from hooks on the wall. She took off her dress and slipped intoa sheer corset with red silk stockings and garters. Her red stilettos matchedthe stockings perfectly. The rest of the outfit was very conservative, a pinkskirt that came to her knees, a rayon blouse, and a linen jacket.  She hadmore clothes on after she donned this ensemble than when she arrived. Maybethis wasn’t going to be so bad.

There was one thing left on the hook that gave herpause.A mask, bright red and feathery, hung there before herquestioning face.She just put it on and gave up trying to figure itout. She looked silly considering the situation, practically dressed for a jobinterview but wearing a red mask and sexy underwear.

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