“You don’t believe my family has the money?”
“I don’t give a shit if your family has the money or not. Just do as your asked.”
“I will,” the lights faltered off his ember kimono. The gold playing tricks on Beckett’s eyes every so often. Beckett took a long draw of the cigar, lazily reaching for his scotch. The papers in front of him were untouched for a good reason. The Bocchino family were officially legal. Specifically Beckett Bocchino.
Fourteen corporations across five different countries now, all theirs. The shareholders buckled. The Bocchino family made an offer no one would refuse. Resulting in 1 billion upfront, completely erasing the mishap that took place five months earlier.
What did it cost? For him, a loveless marriage and a pressing urge to retaliate against his family. The Bocchino family let money rule them now. And he blamed himself.
He pressed the blunt to his mouth again. Eyes watching a women move across the dance floor.
One in particular caught his eye. She always caught his eye and everytime she brought him back to her room. He never undressed. Beckett knew better. He had a many one night stands that turned out horribly just because he’d forgotten something as small as a watch. It sold days later online. Family heirlooms usually were a hit.
“You’re tense,” she whispered next to him. “At least take your jacket off.”
“No.” he rolled is sleeves, “Please just..” she nodded, already removing her skin tight shirt.
Each time after, Beckett slipped an envelope beneath her pillow., always consisting of more money than required. He didn’t need to pay her. He owned the club.She got status out of it he was sure. Not that it was the good kind of status, nor the kind that made you respected.
He felt their eyes on him as he exited. Why her? He assumed they wondered. Beckett couldn’t answer that question if he wanted to.