Wicked While He Watches -The Billionaire's Secret (Claire and the Billionaire)

Wicked
While He Watches: The Billionaire’s Secret

by

Mercedes
Eva Nordstrom

Chapter
1

Claire Silk was terrified. She felt like her hands
were tied. Daniel’s probably were, she realized. Tears welled in her eyes. The ransom
note came five days after they had lost contact with her husband Daniel in the
jungles of Columbia. He had gone there to survey for valuable deposits of gold
and 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 eyes
on the road.

She knew it was common for people to be kidnapped in
Columbia. The good thing was that if they got the ransom money, hostages were
usually released. But they were demanding $800,000. More than the company
thought he was worth, or at least more that they were willing to pay, and much
more than she could possibly
raise
. Even if she tried
to borrow against, or sell the house, it wouldn’t be enough. Daniel was a great
at what he did and he made a lot of money for the company, too much it seemed
now, 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. The
fountain in front of it probably cost more than $800,000. Full of indignation
and desperation, she tried to bottle her fury and her tears.  A curl fell
loose from the tight bun she had secured her dark brown hair in. She wanted to
look together, not like the mess she felt inside. All she could think of was
Daniel. He was everything. She thought of his warm body holding her close. When
his arms were around her he made her feel so safe, like nothing else
mattered.  And without him, nothing did.

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

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

“I don’t have one. My husband works here. Let me go
in,” 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’d
psyched herself up to talk to this billionaire. Now she couldn’t even get in
the 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 am
Claire Silk,” she stated calmly. Lifting her gaze to his eyes, she bit back
saying what she really wanted to.  One man stood at the door while the
other went inside. Soon he returned.

“She’s cleared. Go in, Ma’am and check in at the
front desk.” Claire gave them an insincere flash of a smile and strode through
the 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 escort
her to Nick Fawcett, the billionaire owner and CEO of Fawcett Global. 
They sashayed through the sleek corridors then took the elevator to the top
floor. After more security hassles at more levels, she was finally admitted
into his office.

He wasn’t there.

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

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

“I am devastated, Mr. Fawcett. I’ve come here to ask
you to reconsider paying the ransom.” Her voice was unsteady and her body
trembled 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 out
of the blue as if he hadn’t heard what she said, as if her begging was not
worth acknowledging.

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

“How much do you want the ransom?” he shot back so
forcefully that she gasped and took a few steps back unsteady now in her high
stiletto 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 she
didn’t do all she could to save his life.

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

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

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

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

“You’d have to do whatever I want you to. Some of
it, 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 slipped
through his lips and he walked over to his chair behind the gloriously carved
mahogany 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 gripping
her. She loved Daniel. She couldn’t let him be executed in the jungle. “I’ll do
it, whatever it is.” She stepped over to his desk and sat in the black
crocodile leather upholstered armchair chair in front of it facing him, 
leaning forward eager to get the $800,000 to free her husband. She could feel
the cool leather seat through her pantsuit.

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

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

“Where do I sign?” she replied matching his stare
and squaring her jaw. Prepared to risk her fate for her husband’s sake, she
altered 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 was
agreeing to.

She was starting to get alarmed so she stopped
reading and just signed it. There was no option in her mind to do anything
else.  She set the piece of paper on his desk in front of him and stood
there like a servant waiting to be dismissed. She shifted nervously in her tall
heels and flushed as she realized that she was his to command.

He tilted his head back, eyes revealing the
satisfaction that his total conquest of her gave him. A diabolical smile spread
over his face, making Claire realize that in fact she practically had sold her
soul 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 agreed
to? Was this really happening?
“Two in the morning.
Are you kidding?”

“Two, that’s what I said, Claire,” he remarked. She
noted 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.  She
regretted ever coming there.
But, no.
Daniel. She
loved him. She couldn’t let him die.

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

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

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

“I’ll be here tonight at 2,” she returned hardening
her 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 coin
with a black boar on it.  “See you later,” he said with a gleam in his
eye.

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

Claire had no trouble staying up that night. She had
hardly slept since Daniel was kidnapped. And now the dread of what was going to
happen to her, kept her eyes open and staring at Daniel’s jacket hanging on a peg
by the door where he left it. The digital clock read 12:59, and then blinked to
1:00.  Claire was sitting at her kitchen table waiting. She had a dress
on, the quintessential little black dress, with red stiletto heels. It was time
to go.

She drove in quiet for forty five minutes. It seemed
like four hours. And she had too much time to reconsider, to tell
herself
that she could just swing the car around and head
home. But then the reality of it revealed itself to her again. It wasn’t a home
without Daniel. She pressed on, clutching the steering wheel and drove over the
darkened roadway. Every possible scenario played in her head, except the one
that actually awaited her. It was more than she could have imagined Nick
Fawcett would have in store for her.

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

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

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

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