The Love Of Money - Episode 299
31-08-25 (06:34)
A younger man with shaggy brown hair sat in the chair
across the coffee table, talking to him animatedly. He
wore a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt, but I didn’t
pay much more attention to him as I was immediately
drawn to the several lines of white powder spread
across the glass surface of the coffee table. A few
straws were strewn around a few empty plates of
bones, remnants of chicken wings, ribs, and a half-
eaten burger.
I noticed another bikini top draped over the back of the
couch and found a couple near a hallway. The man had
a girl pressed against the wall with his tongue in her
mouth; her bare tits were rubbing against his chest as
she had her fingers tucked into the back of his pants,
clearly kneading his ass. Five guys on the other side of
the room were sitting around a table; two appeared to
be in a deep discussion over something as they held
cards in their hands. Two of Chloe’s men were standing
in the room, taking in everything with mild interest.
“What is all this?” I asked, staring around the room.
“A party,” Chloe said.
“Eyyyyyy!” the bald man with the woman in his lap
shouted, drawing my attention. He pointed and called
out to me again, “You’re the guy!”
He seemed a little off, so I glanced around the room to
make sure there was no one else he could have
possibly been talking about and then said, “You talking
to me?”
“Yeah! You! You’re the new… guy! Man… you’ve been all
over the TV!” He looked back at the man he’d been
talking to from across the table and said, “Yo! This guy’s
the new guy! Fuck. What’s his name!?”
The shaggy-haired man glanced at me and gave me a
brief once-over before leaning away from us and
whistling. “Shit… I could’ve told you if you hadn’t asked
me. That’s… uh… shit! I can’t remember. That’s T’s
brother, right?”
“Yeah! That’s right! Yo! New guy!” Baldy said, leaning
forward as he placed a hand on one of the breasts of
the girl passed out on his couch. She immediately
began to stir and moan. “You want some?” He waved
his hand over the table where' the drugs were laid out.
“Bring some of those fine honnies, too!”
I was reminded of the last time I’d seen white powder
like that and looked at Bobbi. She held her bottom lip
between her teeth as she stared longingly at the lines
of coke running across the table’s glass surface. Her
fingers were interlocked with each other in front of her,
and she was fidgeting with them. Despite having not
had access to the stuff for the last few weeks, it only
took one look at the drugs to stir the monstrous
cravings within her.
“Helen,” I said. “Why don’t you take Bobbi somewhere'
else?”
“Come on, pet. We both could use a bathroom,” Helen
murmured, not hesitating to slip her arm around Bobbi
and guide her little submissive down the nearby
hallway, trailed by one of my security guards. Bobbi
didn’t fight against Helen, but she did stare over her
shoulder at the drugs openly displayed for the world to
see. That look of desire in her eyes was palpable, and I
knew that if given half the chance, she would indulge
in some of her old habits, and I didn’t want that for her.
“Aw… why’d you make ’em leave?” Baldy asked as he
and Shaggy both leaned over the coffee table. The
movement disturbed the tall girl, and she pulled her
head off the lap she’d been resting in, slowly sitting up
and stretching as she looked around the room at the
newcomers. Her dark blue eyes focused on me as
much as they could.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
As she dropped her arms from her stretch, one of the
straps of her bikini slid down her shoulder, and the
small strip of fabric slipped, exposing tiny pale pink
nipples surrounded by small areola. My eyes
immediately tracked to the exposed flesh, and I
unconsciously licked my lips. Bobbi had her drug, and I
had mine. Fortunately, I had a little more self-control
than my submissive—barely.
“He’s the one all over the news,” Shaggy said. “It’s—”
“Oh! That’s his brother!” she said, suddenly going from
mildly interested to very interested. Unaware that she
was partially exposed, she stood up to her full height.
She had to be over six feet, which made her taller than
even Emily… possibly equal in height to me. Her pale
legs were long and coltish as she sidled up to me, so
close that I could smell the old chlorine and something
slightly medicinal on her. She gave me a smile meant
to be seductive but was a little off, thanks to whatever
she was on. I had to admit, though… she was cute as
hell.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Wendy.”
“Hi, Wendy,” I said, cataloging that away. I might have
been very interested in getting to know her in another
setting, but I couldn’t afford the distraction right now.
Besides, she didn’t look like she was all there right now.
“I’m Marcus,” I said, my tone a little flirty despite my
decision.
“Seriously?” Emily said, looking at me.
“Yeah… she looks like she needs a doctor more than
some dick,” Erin muttered.
“Don’t shame Marcus,” Natashya said. “She’s lovely…
even when she is that color.”
Her eyes seemed to take on a bit more life, and she
started to open her mouth to say something… Then, her
complexion took on a light shade of green. She clamped
her mouth shut, and the attempt at seduction vanished,
replaced by a look of extreme discomfort.
“‘Scuse me,” she muttered and bolted down the hall
where' the two were making out.
“Poor thing,” Natashya said, watching the tall, slender
girl make her escape.
The two on the couch cracked up laughing, and Baldy
hunched over the coffee table to do another line. “Don’t
worry about her. She just doesn’t know how to hold
her drugs yet.” He leaned into the back of his couch and
inhaled deeply, his eyes closed. “Want a bump?”
“Thanks,” I said as I approached the coffee table,
eyeing the white powder. “I appreciate the invite, but
I’ll pass this time.”
“Cool,” Baldy said. “More for us,” he said with a wide
smile.
“Knock yourselves out,” I said as I noticed a man
rounding the corner of the door leading to the outdoor
patio. He had a plate piled high with various
***********ions of meat, stood about 5’9” tall, with lean
muscle and angular features, and was good-looking
enough to be an actor. His nose was sharp and
hawkish; he had a bold chin, high cheekbones, and
damp hair slicked back with strands falling just above
his eyes. He spotted me and immediately broke out
into a grin.
“You’ve got to be him. Marcus, right?” He asked,
approaching us.
“Yeah,” I said cautiously. “Quentin?”
His eyes never leaving me, he set the plate down on
the coffee table, then rounded it and approached me,
extending his hand in greeting. “I hear we’re brothers.”
I stared down at his hand, a little thrown off by this
whole scenario—the drugs, music, and the presence of
people I didn’t know ingesting God knew how many
different inebriants. Thanks to movies and my
experience with Bobbi’s dealer, Candice, I expected
people who were emaciated, with bad teeth and other
health problems to attack us or get aggressive about
taking drugs.
What I hadn’t expected was for the people to be
relatively good-looking and the place to be so clean.
Yeah, there was some trash on the floor, the table was
covered in drugs, and the smell of marijuana hung in
the air, but other than that, the place appeared to be
intact. All the people here were clean-cut, looked like
they went to the gym several times a week, and
would have fit perfectly in any high-end office job in
the city. I guess drugs didn’t take as much of a toll on a
person when they could afford to stave off the
consequences.
I shook it, realizing I’d gone too long without taking
Quentin’s hand, and it probably seemed rude. His grip
was firm but not to the point where' it hurt; he seemed
to know just how much strength to apply without
coming off as a total jerk, and I matched his firmness.
“Marcus,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “I know who you are. You’ve been all
over the news. Just this morning, someone caught you
outside Helena’s having brunch.”
I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized that
meant someone caught me and Danni out and about. I
hadn’t thought much about it. The rabid photographers
had started to die down a bit, and my security team
was pretty good at keeping my location from becoming
common knowledge. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean
some random with a cell phone still couldn’t get a
decent picture of me and sell it for a quick buck.
Hopefully, Danni hadn’t seen it yet.
I glanced at Erin. “Don’t worry,” she said. “She’s seen it,
and we’re handling it.”
Fuck.
“Yeah. Keeping a low profile’s been a bitch,” I said,
turning my attention back to my brother. Was he my
older brother? And Chandler had mentioned twins.
“How old—”
“Fucktard!” one of the guys at the small table shouted
and kicked it so hard that pieces flew through the air
and rained on the hardwood floors. Chloe whipped
around, her hand disappearing under the light jacket
she wore as she eyed the man who had kicked the
table. “You told me you didn’t have sheep when I
asked!”
“Why the fuck did you do that!?” one of the other men
shouted, standing up to look his friend in the eye. “You
fucked up the board!”
“I don’t give a fuck!” the angry man shouted back. “You
always do this! You—”
“Hey!” Quentin called out, glaring at the two. “It’s a
fucking game! Go cool off.”
The angry man looked torn and pointed at the rest of
his friends. “T—”
“I said cool off. There’s some green out by the pool.
Take a few hits and go sit in the tub.”
The five men sitting around the table slowly got to their
feet, grumbling at each other as they made their way
toward the door. The guy on the couch cupped his
mouth and said, “Little bitch booooys!”
“Denny!” Quentin snapped. “Shut your shithole!” Then
he looked back at me. “Fucking Catan… hate that stupid
game.”
“Yeah,” I said noncommittally, not caring about the little
exchange. Was it normal for rich people to get high and
play Settlers of Catan? “Is there a place we can go that
might be a little quieter?”
“Well,” Quentin said with a smirk, “There’s some rooms
down here, but they might be occupied, you know?
Might be better off finding a bedroom upstairs or
something.”
“What about a study?” I asked, hoping to check that
box off my list. “Did Colin have some kind of home
office here?”
“Yeah,” Colin said, eyeing me a little suspiciously. “But
that’s not gonna work. Gramps always kept his study
locked tighter than… well… tight.”
I glanced at Erin, and she reached into her bag to
produce a small ring of keys and jingle them as she
held one between her index finger and thumb. “Got the
office key right here.”
Looking back at Quentin, I caught him checking out
Erin, his gaze traveling up her body before settling on
the keys she held. I couldn’t blame him for that either—
Erin was a goddess in a 5’2” package. Don't forget to leave a Comment 
