Chapter 2 2

Clayton

My eyes crinkle at the edges as I scowled.

I dropped the glass of bourbon on the slab and turned to face my brother.

"It's a good idea, Clayton. It's just an investment."

"No, it's not," I fired. "You don't expect me to invest in the same company that stole from me. I hate liars, Enzo. I hate them so fucking much."

He exhaled and turned to the other side.

This conversation was only pissing me off, but it was better we have it now.

The company Enzo wants us to invest in scammed me of 16 million dollars and got away with it because there was no trace.

I did my investigations and found out, but I had no genuine evidence so I couldn't sue them.

"It's ridiculous if you don't see how you can recover by investing in this business."

"What's ridiculous is how you think I should invest again. Come on man, what do you think this is? A game or what? I work hard for my money, and I don't -" I paused when I realized how high my voice was.

Being a self-made billionaire made me conscious of the investments and profits made.

Enzo didn't care about that. He just wanted to create an avenue where he could squander my money without giving me an account.

He must think I am just a rich asshole who thinks so great of himself, and he's not-

"Clayton, you're a sick egomaniac," he blurted, pointing his finger at me.

Well, he took the words out of my mouth because I was just about to explain how he was not wrong.

A lot of people see me from that perspective, and that's okay. I love the satisfaction on their faces when they realize who I am.

Enzo walked out, and I stared at the space sipping my glass of bourbon.

He's my older brother but acts like a child and not someone three years older.

I became a billionaire and the CEO of four different applications in twenty countries, and at age 35, there's not a single magazine that I haven't been featured on.

It felt good.

The money. Fame. Sexy ladies, and the fear that came with it.

I wouldn't call it respect because people are more concerned about what I'd do to them if they dared me, than the amount of respect that should be accorded.

"Excuse me, sir-"

I turned in the direction of my bodyguard and raised my brow.

"There's a lady outside. She's waiting to see you."

"Send her away."

"But-"

"I said, send her away."

I didn't have to know who it was. I've had a couple of one-night stands to know these ladies.

They always come back for more, and it's deadlier if you let them.

The last woman that followed me home had me interested in her, but the moment she made me cum, I felt a sudden irritation.

I could get whoever I wanted, and that was not a problem.

My phone buzzed on the slab, and I checked the caller ID.

TRENT.

MY BEST PAL.

He only called this late when he wanted to say something important.

I picked the call. "I'm not sure if it is important, but I'm listening."

"Common Clayton, just some fun won't hurt. You've had a busy day, and I know someone who can get your cock sucked."

"I'm not moved," I announced.

It wasn't a new thing to get me fascinated. I've had blondes, and different kind of women use their hands gently while sucking my cock.

"But I'll give it a try," I added.

"Club96."

"I'll meet you in fifteen minutes."

The call ended, and I smirked. Thinking of how pleasurable the night was about to be, I grabbed my keys from the table.

"Club 96," I told the driver and slid into the warmth of the passenger seat.

He put the car into reverse and pulled properly onto the road.

As I stepped down from the car, I could hear loud music from the club. I strode inside looking like a damn snack.

"Hi, sir! Welcome to Club96."

I looked at the lady standing in front of me, and I could tell she felt embarrassed.

Not because she was bad-looking or shit but because of the way I looked at her which wasn't receptive.

I glanced up and saw Trent approaching the table. He had a smile tugged on his lips, and his short, brown hair glistened with dew under the artificial lights.

"Good to see you, man," he grinned and took the seat opposite me.

"You look sort of pissed."

Trent knew me better than anyone ever did, and he knew each of my expressions and their meaning.

We've been friends for twenty years, and there has never been a day where he did not attempt to read my expression.

"Hmm," I admitted and turned to the barman. "Vodka."

I turned back to him, and his brows were raised.

"What happened this time, your mom?"

"Hell no."

Well, that response only came out because my mom had nothing to do with Enzo's greed.

"I mean - no. It's not her this time, it's Enzo."

"What does he want?" Trent asked.

"He wants me to invest again." I took the glass from the tray and gulped a shot.

I opened my mouth slightly and gestured for the barman to fill in the glass again.

"That's insane!" Trent said. "Does he not have a life outside squandering money?"

I raised my shoulder in response. "Enough about Enzo. I need to feel relieved."

"I know that, and that's why we're here." He looked around and then smirked. "There she is."

I followed his direction and turned my head, but a voice interrupted before I could see her.

"Excuse me!" She spoke. "The boss has asked me to send in your orders. Do you want anything?"

"I don't drink," I blurted without looking at her. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible and see the lady Trent was showing me.

"But-"

Pissed, I raised my head only to find the most captivating hazel eyes staring at me.