SWEET HEART Read online

  We turn to the right and walk a few meters and finally stop at a door flanked with two statues of goddesses.

  The man opens the heavily-carved door for me. “Mr. Bonatti is expecting you.”

  I nod at him and cautiously enter the suite.

  Chapter Two

  ASHTON

  CAPITAL. Margins. Gains. Bottom lines…

  I’m bored shitless. Since when did making billions get so old? I’d prefer hitting a new lap record on my Venom than this.

  I imagine I’m in a race track cruising at scenery blurring-speed instead of this conference room full of people who want to make money out of me. Money, money, money, ad nauseam. I know I sound like un ungrateful bastard, what with my net worth now.

  I got my reasons, but people are not interested to know about the blood, sweat and tears that were shed on my way to the top, or the times I had to beg and practically sell my soul to the devil to get my first break, or the loved ones I lost along the way. They are interested in the salacious parts after I’d already hit the big time, when I’d been on the cover of Forbes and had graced society pages and even landed in gossip blogs with some supermodel or starlet. And then they’d say, “Yeah, you have a reason to scoff at Lady Luck who seems to have a fixation on you now. But you’re still an ungrateful asshole who’s rolling in billions while we labor with our nine-to-five jobs every fucking day.”

  My thoughts have completely gone off-track while the person in front of me is laser-focused on landing me in his vast investment portfolio. But of course, I maintain my poker face, keeping the guys in the room guessing. I’m not about to serve them 15% of my company on a silver platter, even if they’re willing to give me a 30% stake on The Acropolis. That’s how badly they want to be in my favor. They know it’s just a matter of time before Zenith hits the blue chips, and that’s where they’d triple their initial investment, if we can come to an agreement.

  I discreetly glance at my watch as I stoically stare at Prem Ranavadi, the energy drink tycoon from Thailand who owns a majority stake on The Acropolis Hotel and Casino ramble away with his numbers. I don’t need to listen to him actually. Franco had already let me in on The Acropolis’ state of finances. It’s solidly in the black, as expected.

  Franco himself made a killing when he sold a huge chunk of his shares to these Asians who are hungry for more power and influence in the west. He’s already into something new. The Acropolis is no longer challenging to him, Franco said. I find my friend too arrogant at times, but Franco knows his business, all right.

  “So what do you say, Ash?” Prem asks me.

  I throw Franco a glance who’s sitting across the long conference table from me. He gives me a slight shrug. It means it’s all up to me. His presence in this meeting is merely for courtesy, though he arranged it.

  I’m not really into the hotel and casino business. My expertise is in tech. I’ve made a fortune out of the apps I’ve created that are now huge companies in their own right. But the one app that has made Forbes hail me as the King of Tech last year is my latest baby, Zenith, an online lifestyle site that combines shopping, traveling, entertainment and socializing in a global context. In three years alone, Zenith has over 1.8 billion active users worldwide, and growing fast. Its profit generating capability is optimal. Big players all want in on the company, but I’m choosing who I let in carefully.

  To be honest, I like Prem. Prior to this meeting, he contacted me and expressed his interest to buy Zenith shares. I knew who he was and I asked around about him, had him vetted. I generally got good feedback regarding his character and business dealings. I’m just testing him, is all, how far he’d go for Zenith shares. His offer started from 20% and it rose to 30% in the span of two hours. Not bad for holding out.

  I want Zenith to have a firm hold over South East Asia as China is zealously controlling its social media and won’t let any western counterparts in the game. Prem will take care of that.

  I think I’ve tortured the man long enough. “I’ve thought about it and…” I shrug. “Why not, Prem? It’s a deal.”

  Prem stands up, looking immensely pleased and offers me his hand across the table. We seal the deal with a firm handshake.

  “You won’t regret it, Ash.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, gentlemen, now that we have that settled, shall we retire to the casino to play some good ol’ poker?” Franco pipes in with his typical life-of-the-party demeanor. “Who needs a drink? I certainly do!”

  There’s a collective murmur of approval in the room.

  In the hallway, as we tail Prem and his entourage at a certain distance, Franco claps me in the back. “You look out of your element, my friend.”

  “I need a spin.” Franco knows about my constant need for speed. If I weren’t a nerd, I’d have been racing. But I had to make a decision back then. I chose being a nerd. I knew it would bring me to the big leagues faster than having to risk my life race after race.

  “Too bad you couldn’t bring your racetrack to Vegas on your jet. I can arrange an hour or two for you at the speedway tomorrow.”

  I know Franco can arrange practically anything for me in Vegas. “Nah. I’m leaving the moment we’ve signed the contract.”

  “Maybe you need a different spin, my friend.” Franco gives me a shit-eating grin.

  “I’m not going to fuck one of your women.”

  Franco chuckles. We go a long way back, and we treat each other more like frat brothers than business partners. His family has huge stakes in my other companies.

  “No, of course not, amico. This one’s a gift from Prem.”

  My brows furrow. “A gift?”

  “Prem knew he’d insult you if he’d offer grease money to a man who has more billions than him, so he arranged to have your dick greased instead.”

  “He was going to bribe me?” I feel incredulous.

  Franco shrugs. “And he was right. You’re pissed. And you already agreed to the deal, so it’s now a thank you gift.”

  “I don’t want a fucking thank you gift.”

  “You sure about that? She’s a virgin.”

  I’m dumbfounded. I throw him an incensed look. “What insanity is this? Have I been transported to the Medieval Ages?”

  Franco grins unrepentantly. “Apparently Prem and his people are superstitious. They believe a virgin’s blood will bring them good luck. Of course, you will have to draw it for maximum effect.”

  I feel repulsed by the very thought. “That’s insane! I don’t believe in that mumbo-jumbo.” I eye him suspiciously. “You’re not involved in some kind of illegal shit, are you? I mean, now?”

  He looks at me way too innocently. “Me? No way. My mother will castrate me and feed my shriveled balls to the buzzards if I go back to the old ways.”

  The Bonattis were in the life a generation ago, but they turned legit. I’m one of the reasons they are solidly ensconced in Wall Street now and in Silicon Valley, too. They bought shares of my companies early on.

  “Maybe they’re right, though. They asked me to look for a virgin to gift you with days before this meeting. The stars might have aligned in their favor. See, they got your nod sooner than they expected.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t believe you actually obliged them.”

  Franco chuckles. “You can’t be a walking dick who hasn’t dipped into pussy juice in months in my city, Ash. It’s a fucking crime.”

  I knew he’d rub that in, the asshole. I’d told him in passing that I hadn’t gotten laid in months and he took it to a whole new level. I didn’t even know virgins could be purchased from the freaking market in this time and age. Or maybe I did, but I can’t believe I’d actually get involved in something like this. The very idea turns my stomach. While it’s true that I hadn’t been calling the usual numbers the past months for reasons I don’t understand—maybe sex just became a monotonous, robotic exercise of same ol’ shit, lather, rinse, repeat—I draw the line at slaking my lust on a poor woman for
ced into prostitution.

  “I’d rather take a spin. Arrange it.” I can’t also believe I’ve reached the point where I’d actually prefer a spin on the racetrack to expend tension than a wild ride between a woman’s legs or a woman riding me, for that matter.

  “It’s not nice to turn down a gift from your new Asian partners, Ash. They will be slighted. It’s bad luck for them.”

  “I can afford to slight them.”

  “Now you’re being the asshole. Come on, give yourself a break. You may need your shrink if you don’t cure that little frustration.”

  “I’m not frustrated.” I reply, exasperated. Franco can be so infuriatingly meddlesome. “Get off my back, will you?”

  “This babe is pure gold, I tell you. You can actually talk to her while you know…She’s got some moxie.”

  “You talked to her?”

  “Yeah. She barged in on me with my girls this morning and I got a mouthful. That was so funny.” Franco chuckles at the recollection. “I actually like her. I think I’ll play with her after you.”

  “Women are not toys, Franco.”

  “No. They are beautiful little flowers who love diamonds, designer shoes and sex. Lots of sex.”

  I know I’ve been a player on many occasions at several points in the last fifteen years of my adult life, but I have never treated women like playthings. They came to me willingly, on their terms. I never had to pursue or persuade them to be with me. They were always free to come and go. But then again, I don’t live in Sin City where money and sex go together like wine and caviar to be enjoyed to the point of debauchery. I live somewhere in Silicon Valley, home of the tech gods whose idea of ultimate excitement is a gamer con at the Sony headquarters.

  “You will enjoy her, I’m sure of it. If not, I’ll get my money back. You just tell me.”

  “Money back? A cherry is not returnable like a piece of junk you purchased from the mall, asshole.”

  He shrugs, unaffected that he’s actually pissing me off more than getting me excited on this “gift”.

  “It’s imperative that you are pleased with her. It’s in her contract.”

  They actually have a contract? Poor girl. No experienced pussy has pleased me in months. How in hell is a virgin pussy supposed to do that? “Is she even legal?”

  Franco grins like a fucking lecher. “Barely. You will find her in your suite later.”

  The hell I’d touch a barely legal virgin. But I’m curious. Mighty curious.

  We reach the casino. I guess I can play a few rounds of poker to pass the time.

  HEART

  I stare at myself in the mirror. I look like one of Franco Bonatti’s women. Not that it’s bad. I mean, Bonatti’s women are gorgeous. I look like a million bucks, I grudgingly concede.

  I know I resemble my mother in her younger days, but it has been more of a curse to me than a blessing. I made sure I was different from her in every way, especially in my outward appearance. I preferred loose shirts and jeans. When my body started to develop, I tried to hide it from being noticed by the men who were always in the company of my mother. Even in school, I was branded the drab baggy girl for the oversized shirts and pants I wore. I was always in a baseball cap to hide my hair, too. I wanted to look as androgynous as possible.

  I forgot I had a nice body. I didn’t even know I had nice breasts, until now that they’re being pushed up to overflowing by a bustier top.

  Katya, one of Bonatti’s bunnies took me shopping earlier. I was surprised she was so nice to me. She’s got good taste, too. She picked the stuff that I also liked. I finally got a taste of designer, the ones I only used to look at from a distance, too intimidated to enter the shops and look around. You don’t enter those shops to look around. You better have the plastics ready. I don’t have a single plastic to my name. But maybe I can open a bank account now with the fifty grand in my backpack which I never let out of my sight. Even when I was in the spa, I kept it near me, to the annoyance of the lady attending to me. I didn’t care. My whole life is in that backpack. Therefore, I’m guarding it with my life.

  The salon did a whole body work on me. I had a hair trim and treatment that left my long locks shining like silk and tumbling in soft waves down my shoulders and back. I’ve been scrubbed and waxed, especially down there. The lady shaved off my pubes and I have almost nothing left! But it looks nice. It feels nice, too, in a weird way. I got a mani and pedi in hot pink. I even had a dental appointment for cleaning and whitening earlier.

  All this is courtesy of Franco Bonatti. What a total surprise, that man. I got it all wrong, too. He’s not the man I’d be servicing tonight, but he assured me that his friend is more handsome than he is.

  Mr. Bonatti gave me fifty thousand dollars up-front. I’ve secured my money and made him understand my limits, too, after walking in on him in the living room of his suite with three women! Jeez! The guy was having sex for breakfast, literally! Thank God I didn’t see his junk! I shudder at the recollection.

  It must have been my shock, but I went at him totally forgetting that he was the most powerful man in Vegas, and according to street gossip, not in a nice way.

  “Mr. Bonatti, I will have you know that I will not participate in this kind of depravity! I’m here for regular sex only! One-on-one! Just you and me! Not …THIS!” I’d gestured wildly to the women working on him. “Absolutely no orgies!”

  He’d stared at me lazily, giving me a slow once-over, then he laughed.

  “What’s your name?” he’d asked as he kept the woman’s head plastered between his legs to hide his privates.

  “Heart.”

  “As in corazon?”

  “Yes. That’s my real name. Mr. Bonatti, you gotta understand…I’m still a virgin. I accepted this job for one-on-one sex only.“ I reiterated, then I went on for the specifics. “No anal, no BDSM and any of that slapping, beating and tying up stuff, and absolutely no unprotected sex.” That was a mouthful of rules for a man who made his own rules and ruled this city, too.

  He’d grinned, shaking his head. “Damn, you drive a hard bargain, corazon. What incentives do I get for my 100 grand save for a boring missionary fuck?”

  I was shaking inside, my future fading away like smoke before my eyes. But I pressed my luck. “Please, I’m not really into this. I don’t want to be a prostitute. I just need the money so bad.”

  “Don’t you all?” he replied with a hint of cynicism in his tone.

  “If you won’t agree to my terms, I’m sorry, Mr. Bonatti, but I can’t go through with it.” That was tantamount to shooting my dreams down, but also I realized I was not ready to go down that path for the sake of my dreams.

  His eyes flashed, but not in amusement. I knew why. I had the audacity to actually bargain with him. Even Jigger had not dared. I’d silently prayed then that I wouldn’t end up in a back-alley dumpster, minus my head.

  But then he’d enlightened me. I wanted to drop on my knees in utter relief and thank the heavens.

  Afterward, he’d told one of his women— a tall blonde who could easily be a supermodel— to take me shopping and accompany me to the salon and spa.

  So here I am now, getting ready for my first and only whoring job.

  I don’t know who the man I’d be with tonight, but I hope he will treat me like a regular woman. Mr. Bonatti assured me that his friend is a cooI guy and would treat me nice. But I hope this man doesn’t have too much expectations from a virgin, because honestly, I don’t know shit about pleasing a man. I did some last-minute research yesterday. I watched some porn video clips on the internet. Most made me go ew! They were all savage couplings and the women were obviously faking the pleasure.

  I sigh deeply as Romeo, the stylist, finishes with my makeup.

  “There, you look perfect, dahling,” Romeo beamed, very pleased with his job.

  Indeed, Romeo transformed me dramatically into a sophisticated-looking woman.

  God, I hope this man will like me. I hope I can please hi
m, given my limited experience.

  “Wow, you look awesome, Heart,” Katya tells me when I finally emerge from the dressing room.

  “Really? I look okay? I’m afraid I’m gonna pop out of this any time soon.”

  She giggles. “If you’ve got them, flaunt them, girl. I wish I had your rack.”

  “Are you kidding me? But you have like super nice Ds!”