Joan's adventure with the Kaiba brothers continues . . .
|Chapter 6: The Lion's Den
When Joan got outside, Roland held the door to the limo for her. Once they were both inside, he cut to the chase. "What's your price for Mokuba?"
"Oh gee. Looks like I might have to sacrifice some time with my other guys for this, so fifty dollars an hour Mondays through Thursdays, one hundred dollars Fridays through Sundays."
"I did say discount, didn't I?"
"It's true that Mokuba is less . . . demanding. All right, I'm not going to be in California much longer, so log your time through the Clockify app and I'll check in with Mokuba periodically to make sure you're reporting accurately."
"Now for tonight, do you consent to an HIV test, body scan, and bag search?"
"I guess, sure."
Roland donned a pair of latex gloves. "Please hold out your finger." She did so and Roland swabbed it with alcohol, pricked it, collected a tiny blood sample, and placed a drop in the sample well of a test strip followed by two drops of another liquid. He then set it aside in a holder that appeared specifically designed for it. "Hold still." Roland waited for a stoplight and then passed a handheld scanner from Joan's feet to her neck. He scrutinized the image. "That's a copper IUD, right?"
"Good. We can skip the morning after pill."
Joan shifted in her seat. "Wait, is he going to want bareback? Because I don't do that."
"No. He insists on these, actually." Roland handed her a sealed box of a dozen premium condoms, then began digging through her purse. He checked every pocket and opened every makeup container. He pulled out a miniature pocket knife and a sewing kit. "May I hold on to these for now?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
Roland did the same search with her backpack, finding nothing of interest. He put everything back where he found it and glanced at the test strip. "It's negative." He folded his hands and gave Joan a concentrated stare. "When you arrive in the suite, I suggest you shower thoroughly. Mr. Kaiba likes clean women."
"Mr. Kaiba will be working on his laptop. Do not disturb him until he calls for you."
"Mr. Kaiba has a three-bedroom suite. I will show you which bedroom to occupy. After he is done with you, you may choose to sleep in that room or request a ride home by contacting me."
"Is there anything you would like to ask me now?"
"What does he like, I guess?"
"Women." Roland's mirrored glasses offered no hints.
"Oh. Uh . . . I mean does he like kissing and stuff?"
"Do you charge extra for kissing?"
"Frankly I don't know, but brush your teeth regardless. He's complained about breath before."
"Well, does he like the woman to take charge or be submissive?"
"I don't know and I don't want to know."
"Oh." Joan spent the rest of the ride trying to get more information out of him to no avail.
The limo pulled up to a Hyatt Regency building that dwarfed everything around it. A banner reading "Welcome to the Silicon Valley Game Developers Summit" stretched across the entire entrance. Roland again held the door for her but let her handle her own bags. Joan stared up at a huge modern abstract chandelier as they passed through the lobby. They rode an elevator to the top floor and Roland quietly opened the door to an executive parlor. He showed Joan which bedroom to use and then left her to her own devices.
Joan dropped her purse on a bedside table and texted Marc and Michael her location. She then brought her backpack into the adjoining bathroom and brushed her teeth before hopping into the shower. Still naked, she brushed some serum into her hair and blow-dried it, then went back to the bedroom to dig some makeup out of her purse. Just as her hand made contact with the zipper, she felt a hand on her hip.
"Hello, whore." Kaiba's breath caressed her ear. "What was a slut like you doing in my brother's office?" His leather-clad pelvis pressed against her rear and his hand slid over her stomach while the other cupped a breast.
Joan responded to his touch, grinding back against him. "My boyfriend was showing me off."
"Boyfriend? You mean your pimp."
"Only if you insist on putting it that way." Joan turned to face him and gazed into eyes a clearer blue than that of the bay outside the window.
"I insist." He traced her jaw with a finger as she bit her lip. "I'd rather believe I hired a man more industrious than I initially gave him credit for over a fool who'd let someone like you out of his sight."
"He's going to call me later to make sure I'm all right."
"That's cute." Kaiba shoved Joan backwards and pinned her to the bed. "What if you don't answer?"
Joan struggled a little but remained calm, analyzing his body, conserving her energy. She mimicked the danger in Kaiba's tone. "He'll break down this door and drive a blade through your skull."
Kaiba issued a short laugh. "What makes you think he'll make it past hotel security, let alone Roland?"
Joan fell still and let fear dance in her eyes, but not on account of the CEO looming over her. Marc could trace his lineage back to emperors, conquerors, and headhunters. She spotted triumph creeping over Seto Kaiba's features and swiftly flipped him onto his back. Joan leaned over Seto, long wavy hair forming a curtain beside her face. "What makes you think that will be a problem for him?"
Speechless, Seto gazed up at her. The delicate, unadorned lashes. The cushiony, bare lips. Innocence and insolence interfacing seamlessly. He finally whispered, "Show me how you fuck him."
Joan cradled his cheek in her hand and dropped her lips to meet his. The first kiss was gentle and warm, the second fierce and scorching. She slid both hands under his black silk shirt while she nibbled and teased what was left of his sanity.
Chapter 7: The Morning After
Seto woke to panicked knocking and an arm draped over his torso. "Mr. Kaiba! Are you all right?" Roland's voice boomed through the bedroom door.
"I'm fine," Seto yelled back.
Joan rolled away from him and pressed a pillow over her exposed ear.
Seto glanced at the hotel's bedside clock. Shit. His alarm was on his phone, which he had left in the bedroom he'd intended to sleep in.
"Sir, your speech starts in five minutes."
Seto thought fast. "Have Mokuba stall."
Seto stumbled into the adjoining bathroom. He urinated and ran a wet cloth over his face, then realized his comb and toothbrush were in another bathroom. On his way to the opposite end of the suite, he looked down at Joan's sleeping form and said softly, "What have you done to me, whore?"
Seto dressed and performed a facial hygiene routine. His and Joan's mingled sweat would have to stay, for now.
Roland remained silent on the elevator ride down, leaving Seto alone with his thoughts. Last night came back to him in bits and pieces. Exploding mere seconds after donning the first condom. Her insisting that she was worth more than that and getting him worked up again. Hearing Marc's voice on speakerphone had driven him to a new level of madness. It reminded him that, although he'd paid the woman in bed with him, she wasn't under his control. It was an endless series of re-matches, summoning the dragon between his legs and unleashing white lightning. Every release was accompanied by a caveat of denial. She'd had better. Three out of four virgins could last longer than he could, and when he asked about her sample size, she merely smirked as if it had been two thousand. He lasted considerably longer in subsequent bouts, but it was never enough for her.
Seto had begun to question whether the other prostitutes were merely stroking his ego when they told him how big he was, how good he tasted. She gave him none of that. He hadn't intended to fall asleep with her, had intended to remind her of her place, ditching her like the others. However, he'd been so exhausted by the end of it that he'd collapsed and shut his eyes, just for a moment, and then Roland was pounding on the door.
As Seto stepped into the Hyatt's Grand Banquet Hall, he instantly regretted volunteering to kick off the Silicon Valley Game Developers Summit with a keynote address. Fifteen hundred representatives of over seven hundred game companies from all over the world sat breakfasting as Mokuba expounded on the importance of having a vibrant and diverse office culture.
Mokuba saw Seto come in but continued to talk until the story he was weaving reached its natural conclusion. Seto leaned against the back wall, using every precious minute to collect his scattered thoughts. "And now I proudly present to you the man who started it all, the patriarch of Domino City, the master of dragons, the CEO of Kaiba Corporation and my older brother: Seto Kaiba!"
The room burst out clapping and Seto strutted up the center aisle, his white trench coat swishing with his stride. As he approached the stage, he exchanged nods with Mokuba. Once behind the podium, however, his planned speech no longer made sense to him. As he gazed upon the sea of faces, a new understanding coalesced in his mind.
"I'd like to . . . thank Mokuba for all his innovative ideas and invaluable insight in managing Super Kaiba Megacorp. He's been on the front lines since day one proving to me that taking risks pays off. Making connections with strange and eccentric people pays off. That's what we're here to do these next two weeks. Introduce yourself to people who intimidate you. Listen to people you think are beneath you. They might surprise you by flipping the script on you. Now, on behalf of the organizers of this event, I welcome you all to the Silicon Valley Game Developers Summit!"
Applause and cheering followed Seto off the stage. Mokuba ran to Seto and hugged him. Surprised but pleased, Seto wrapped his arms around his younger brother.
Mokuba wanted to thank Seto for the show of faith, for letting him not only run the show but for being supportive after the chips were on the table, but Mokuba wasn't supposed to be on that stage in the first place. Instead, he said, "Seto, what happened?"
"That whore happened."
"Oh yeah, that one . . . Seto?"
"You um, kinda smell."
Chapter 8: Dumpster Dice Monsters
By the time Seto got back to the suite for a proper shower, Joan was no longer there. "Roland, where is my whore?"
"She walked to the Millbrae transit center, sir."
"She what?" Seto didn't know how close the train station was to the Hyatt, but as far as he knew, no whores simply walked out of Kaiba Manor back in Japan.
"She said not to bother with the limo."
"Book her again."
"Yes, sir." Roland had not been blind to his boss' transformation. For one thing, he'd never known Seto to sleep in, much less in the same bed as a whore. Seto didn't want them to get clingy. He'd occasionally ask for "one of the good ones" to be brought to his mansion in Japan, but he never had anyone in particular in mind. Roland kept a list of those who seemed to put Seto in a good mood for such occasions.
When Seto returned to the suite for the evening, he was disappointed to find no prostitute but also too exhausted to chastise Roland about it. He dropped off to sleep immediately after ensuring that his alarm was set properly.
Tuesday morning greeted Seto with delayed onset muscle soreness. Pain tore through his limbs as he showered, reminding him how he'd slacked off on his exercise routine for the past several months in order to spend more time working. Seto endured the day's Summit activities and once again turned in for an early night.
By Wednesday, Seto still felt some lingering soreness, but most of it had passed. Moments after he seated himself for breakfast in the banquet hall, a man with riotous black hair and emerald green eyes bordered by heavy eyeliner plunked his loaded plate and glass of orange juice down on the white tablecloth. He plopped into the seat next to Seto. "Hey man, remember me? It's been a few years," the newcomer opened.
Seto examined the face and drew a blank until a dangling six-sided die caught his attention. "Devlin. Dumpster Dice Monsters, was it?"
"That's Dungeon Dice Monsters," Duke Devlin corrected.
"Whatever." Seto chewed a piece of salty ham and washed it down with a swig of water. He knew he had to increase his protein intake before he could keep up with her, but the Hyatt's buffet selection paled in comparison to the filet mignon with foie gras sauce that his personal chef, who had been granted vacation time during his trip, prepared.
Duke waved a potato-laden fork. "What's with the attitude, man? After that speech, everyone was saying you'd changed, but it looks like all you did was learn how to lie."
Seto sighed. "Old habits die hard. What do you want, Devlin?"
"Since you put it so nicely, I rented out the hottest night club in Oakland tonight. It's going to be a mixer for game devs only. My personal assistant is compiling the guest list, but after that compelling speech, I wanted to reach out to you personally."
"How touching," Seto said flatly. "Roland, what does my schedule look like tonight?"
"Open, sir," Roland replied.
Seto whipped around to face his bodyguard. "You were supposed to book that whore," he hissed.
"I did, for tomorrow night. It was her earliest opening."
"What's so funny?" Seto demanded.
"Tell me Kaiba, have you ever once picked up a normal babe? You know, through your own charm?"
"You mean a gold digger? No thanks. I'd rather get what I want from a woman than play months of mind games over an unfulfilled promise of sex."
"I've never had that problem," Duke goaded, "I don't think you have it in you."
Seto glared but remained silent. Duke could boast all he wanted, but Seto suspected that Duke had wasted time on more than a few broads.
"You know what? I just realized there are going to be too many guys at this party. I'll have my personal assistant dig around for some local chicks. Maybe pick up some hot Twitch streamers. You'll see. The place will be hopping!"
"Fine, I'll check it out, but I'm not picking up any gold diggers."
Duke smiled. "Great! See you there." He patted Seto on the back, picked up his plate and glass of orange juice, and then proceeded on to the next high-profile game developer he spotted.
Author's Note: I put together a little Youtube playlist for this if you happen to enjoy listening to music while you read. I listened to a playlist of 197 popular clubbing songs from 2015 and narrowed it down to four songs. My playlist is called ProstituteChapter9 – all one word. If it doesn't pop up for you on Youtube or you'd prefer to use a different platform, here's the list in order. I'm not sure if your reading speed will match up perfectly to what I have in mind for each song, but enjoy anyway:
3LAU - How You Love Me
Rudimental - Waiting All Night
Gorgon City - Ready For Your Love
Lilly Wood & The Prick and Robin Schulz - Prayer In C
Chapter 9: Clubbing
Mokuba knocked on the door to Joan's second-floor apartment. After finding out about Duke's party, he'd exchanged logistics with Joan. Taking a page out of his brother's book, he wore black leather pants and a Kaiba Corporation shirt emblazoned with three Blue-Eyes White Dragons. A KC belt rode low on his hips, but he hadn't bothered with the additional adornments Seto favored.
Joan answered the door in the glittering one-sleeved dress that Marc had bought for her. A black purse in which she'd packed a few essentials hung from one shoulder. Smokey eyeshadow cast an alluring aura over her face. She ran her eyes over Mokuba's body from toe to head, taking in the slight bulge of his crotch and broad shoulders. "I love that look on you."
Mokuba gulped. "You look amazing. I'm sorry, this is still really new to me."
"Relax." Joan pulled Mokuba in for a hug and felt the smooth, cool synthetic fabric of his shirt. "Just let me know if anything isn't working for you and we can change it." She drew back and smiled warmly.
A bald male with stubbly facial hair peered over Joan's shoulder. "OMG! You were right, he's sooooo cute!" he said in obvious falsetto. "Hi, I'm Joan's roommate, Michelle."
"Oh, uh, hi?" Mokuba replied.
The man dropped into his normal voice. "Sorry. I'm actually Michael. I know you're doing the whole 'pretending' thing but obviously I'm not convincing you. I just wanted to see your face once. I can stay out of your way from now on."
"OK. Sure, yeah, that sounds good," Mokuba said.
Joan took Mokuba's arm and headed towards the stairs. "Bye Michelle, don't wait up for me," Joan called over her shoulder. They made their way down to the parking lot and Mokuba opened the passenger door to an electric blue Tesla Roadster. "Is this thing for real?" Joan asked as she got in.
Mokuba got behind the wheel. "Ever since I met you, I don't know what's real anymore."
Again, the conversation remained restricted to light topics. With all the scenery flashing by outside the windows, Joan had an endless supply of inspiration.
They approached a building with a giant neon guitar neck sticking out of the first floor awning. Shimmering curtains shielded the windows from curious outsiders. When they stopped, a valet opened the door for Joan and took the keys from Mokuba.
Mokuba handed his passport to the bouncer, who quickly found him on the guest list. He then scanned Joan's ID and they were ushered inside with minimal delay. Once inside, Joan handed her purse over to the coat check person and Mokuba pocketed the ticket they received in exchange. Music pounded through the sound system as they stepped up to a long, glossy wooden bar where Joan ordered a ginger ale.
"No alcohol?" Mokuba asked, surprised.
"Maybe later. I want to remember this night."
Joan held Mokuba's gaze firmly. "Too intense? It's actually true, you know."
"OK. Ginger ale for me too then."
They took their drinks from the bartender and surveyed the rest of the club. Giant metallic stars decorated the walls and retro lamps dangled from the ceiling. Flashes of multicolored light spilled from an adjacent room where nobody was dancing yet. A staircase led to a VIP lounge on the second level.
"Want to see who's up there?" Mokuba asked.
Mokuba presented his passport to the bouncer guarding the stairs. He checked it against a list and stepped aside. "Thank you, Mr. Kaiba. Enjoy your evening."
Mokuba took Joan's hand to signal that she was with him as they went up the stairs. They entered a room lined with velvet-covered couches on every wall and three dance poles running through the middle. Joan recognized one of Marc's friends dressed as Dark Magician Girl shaking her cute little bubble butt on the central pole. Her pink and blue off-the-shoulder costume displayed generous cleavage. Joan waved, but had forgotten the cosplayer's name, so she didn't engage her in conversation.
Duke Devlin sat on the center couch with his knees open and an arm around another attractive lady. "Yo Mokuba! How's it hanging, man? Come have a seat!"
Mokuba walked up to Duke. "Hey Duke, this is Joan. Joan, Duke is the creator of Dungeon Dice Monsters."
"A pleasure," Duke said as they shook hands, the die dangling from his ear swinging with the motion. "So how do you know Mokuba?"
Mokuba sat down and Joan plopped beside him. Imitating Duke in a façade of cocky poise, Mokuba slid his arm around Joan.
"Someone stole my bicycle and Mokuba offered me a ride home," Joan said.
Duke tilted his head. "Aw that's sweet. That'll make a nice story to tell your grandchildren."
"Uh. Thanks, I guess," Mokuba said.
Duke picked up a half-empty martini glass from a glowing resin table in front of them. "I always saw you as the family type, Mokie. I'm surprised you're not totin' around three kids already."
"I think he's already tipsy," Joan whispered to Mokuba.
"You got any kids, Duke?" Mokuba asked.
"I got a few running around. Bombay, Dubai, Dallas, Moscow. Send their mommas checks sometimes."
"Excuse me. I have to go pee-pee." The girl Duke was holding abruptly got up and scurried away.
"Later babe," Duke called.
"Wait, you seriously just . . ." Mokuba trailed off.
"Pump and dump, my man," Duke finished. "It's the life!"
Mokuba tightened his hold around Joan. "OK, but don't you give them morning after pills or anything?"
"Naw. A lot of these bitches want to get preggy. Some stud's gonna knock them up anyway and it might as well be me!" Duke downed the last of his drink.
Joan and Mokuba remained silent while Dark Magician Girl blew a kiss at Duke.
"I think we need some fresh air," Joan said at last. She stood up and pulled Mokuba onto a nearby balcony. Traffic rumbled beneath them in a sea of lights.
Mokuba leaned on the banister and looked out over the city. "Is that true? Do some women want to be pumped and dumped?"
"Probably. Different people want different things."
A tremble crept into Mokuba's voice. "What do you want?"
"Do you want the real answer or the pretend answer?"
"The real answer."
Joan leaned her elbows on the banister and looked him in the eye. "Brothers."
Mokuba let the word sink in. He thought Marc had been joking. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
"Well, fraternal polyandry if you want the technical term for it. That's where all the brothers in a family marry one wife, sometimes more wives if the first wife is barren or something. It's actually a tradition in Tibet. It keeps them from splitting up their land."
"Why don't you move there then?"
"I read up on the place. They're not friendly to outsiders. They have too many unmarried women already and I don't have the skills most of them want in a wife. Here in California, there's a surplus of available men because half of the women have decided they don't need a man."
"Interesting. So do all the men you date have brothers?"
"Most do. I hope someday one of them will give me a chance, but if that never happens, I'll settle for my guys becoming really good friends with each other, almost like brothers."
"So because Seto and I are actually brothers, that's why you want to remember this night?"
"Guilty as charged." Joan's smile, however, radiated no guilt.
The word "discount" clicked into Mokuba's head. It all made sense now. "That's weird, but I actually feel better knowing that. You did something to my brother, something good, and now I know it wasn't just because he paid you."
"Cool. I don't know exactly how that worked, but I'm glad it did."
Before Mokuba could think too hard about it, he kissed Joan, hastily swooping in and drawing back. Joan eyed him and smiled, examining his face for any sign of regret before she grabbed him and returned the kiss. She kept it tame but sincere, lingering like a weary traveler returning home.
Joan pulled back and spoke softly, "Hey."
"Hey." Mokuba searched for what to say next, but nothing came. He was in uncharted territory but could tell she knew the way.
"Ready to dance?" Joan asked.
They passed Dark Magician Girl giving Duke a lap dance and went downstairs, holding hands as they wormed their way through undulating bodies. They settled on a spot and started dancing. Joan invited Mokuba to touch her body, guiding his hands around her waist and letting her bouncing breasts brush against him. Marc was right; this was more fun without a bra. Their close proximity deterred strange men from grinding up on Joan.
After three songs, Laura Aurelio appeared at Mokuba's elbow. "Hey boss!" she yelled.
"What?" Mokuba asked through the noise.
"Hi," Laura repeated.
"Hi," Joan and Mokuba said.
The noise drowned Laura's next words.
"What?" Mokuba asked.
"Never mind," Laura replied.
"What?" Mokuba said again.
Laura gave them two thumbs up and then danced away backwards, blending into the crowd.
Mokuba and Joan kept dancing until the heat from the other bodies became oppressive. They then ordered fresh fizzy drinks and headed upstairs. Duke and Dark Magician Girl were gone, leaving the poles unattended. A man in a flamboyant red suit with long white hair covering one eye sat sipping red wine among other men in less colorful attire. Most held glasses of champagne, and bottles littered the glowing resin table.
"Shit," Mokuba cursed under his breath.
The red-suited man rose and flung his arms wide. "Little Mokuba! Not so little anymore, but that's how I'll always remember you," he said in a dramatically suave voice. "It's been forever. Hopefully no hard feelings over our old Duelist Kingdom days. Come now, my Millennium Eye is long gone." He pulled back the hair to reveal a vacant socket pink with useless blood vessels, then let it fall back in place.
Mokuba stiffened. "Joan, this is Maximillion Pegasus. He kidnapped me when I was a child to lure my brother into a duel and stole our souls in an attempt to resurrect his dead wife."
"Don't be like that," Pegasus pouted. "I was overcome with grief. You would have done the same."
"Let's go." Mokuba put his hand on Joan's waist and they turned.
"Wait!" Pegasus called, "I heard a rather interesting rumor about your company. Perhaps you would care to clarify matters?"
Mokuba stopped and looked over his shoulder.
"Come take a seat. Let's have a little chat," Pegasus invited.
Chapter song inspiration: Bloodhound Gang - The Ballad Of Chasey Lain
Chapter 10: The Orgy
Mokuba slowly turned back and approached the cluster of drunk businessmen. He sat beside the outermost one. Joan sank into the cushion next to Mokuba, letting his body form a barrier between her and the intimidating clique.
"So for starters," Pegasus swirled his wine, "remember that time you stole my best concept artist by funding his second honeymoon and offering him the position of art director?"
Mokuba grinned. "It was completely worth it." He leaned back and slung an arm around Joan, posturing again but this time more comfortable with her presence.
Pegasus peered over the edge of the wine glass with his single latte-colored eye. "Yes, well that's established fact. The other established fact is that you hired Marc Aurelio's wife Laura as your narrative designer. You said as much in your Monday morning speech."
Mokuba met that one eye with both of his. "Where are you going with this, Pegasus?"
"Rumor has it that last Friday, you treated your vibrant and diverse," Pegasus stopped to giggle, "your vibrant and diverse office staff to an," Pegasus giggled again, and this time the other businessmen joined him, "to an orgy!"
The businessmen burst into full laughter.
Pegasus let the laughter die down to chuckles before talking over them, making slow progress with the tale as he took his own frequent giggle breaks. "And that's not even the best part! So the story goes that your brother Seto Kaiba walks in on this and he sees Laura . . . Laura sitting there at her desk . . . Laura getting eaten out . . . by this sexy Italian gigolo. And Seto Kaiba tries to fire Laura on the spot for cheating on Marc . . . but you tell him . . . you tell him no . . . because . . . because she's earned this. And then . . . and then Seto goes into the other room and sees Marc. And Marc is getting head from this total . . . this total crack whore. And you know how Seto Kaiba worships every scrap of toilet paper Marc Aurelio touches. And Seto walks up to the crack whore and asks . . . and he asks . . . how much? And she tells him . . . she tells him . . . sucky sucky five dolla."
Champagne squirted from noses. The laughter crescendoed and gradually died down to sniggers.
Mokuba waited until he was sure he'd be heard before speaking. "First of all, it was a May Day party. Secondly-"
"Mokuba, what are you doing with my whore?" Seto stood before the doorway with his arms crossed, Roland beside him.
Silence reigned for two seconds.
Then the businessmen burst out howling. "Let's see them titties!" one of them yelled.
Hands snaked towards Joan. Mokuba wrapped himself around her, but the men still caught handfuls of cloth and ripped them away.
Seto pressed the KC pin on the collar of his white trench coat and spoke into it. "It's me. Get us out of here."
Roland pulled out his concealed weapon and fired it through the ceiling. The report drew everyone's attention. "Next asshole to touch the whore dies," Roland warned.
Mokuba and Joan dashed for the door while Roland kept his gun trained on the businessmen. Joan attempted to hold together the scraps of her dress as they all scurried down the stairs. The bouncers, who had heard the gunshot, saw Joan's tattered dress and cleared a path for her and the Kaibas. Roland tried to follow them but got tackled.
Joan and the Kaibas piled into the limo just as it pulled up. "Go! Go!" Mokuba screamed at the driver. The vehicle took off.
As Joan caught her breath, she discovered herself between two sets of leather pants and jittering arms. One breast spilled onto Mokuba's chest as she panted.
"Fuck, Seto. Do you have any idea what you just did?" Mokuba put on a bold front, but his racing heart betrayed him.
"Tell me again why you're with my whore," Seto bit back. His blood surged hot, his hands searing against her already sweaty skin.
"Do you even know her name, Seto?"
Deathly silence passed between the brothers until Joan broke into sobs. The shock had worn off and the violation from so many absolute strangers was sinking in. Seto and Mokuba stared at each other for a long time, not knowing what to do or say as their aggression evaporated.
It was Seto who at last cupped her cheek in his hand and turned her face so he could look into her eyes. "You're better than this, whore. You have men who will fight for you, and they just did. Those weren't men in those suits; they were vultures. They thought they could take from you and offer nothing in return. I promise you, once we get the security footage, they'll all be charged with assault."
Joan gulped and nodded. "I . . . I need to call Michael."
Seto frowned. "Who is Michael?"
"Her boyfriend, dumbass," Mokuba said.
"My husband," Joan corrected.
"Shit!" Mokuba said.
"Who's the dumbass now?" Seto gloated. "All right, what's his number?"
"I don't have it memorized . . . and my purse . . . it's back at the club."
Seto grabbed his collar and spoke into it. "Roland, I need you to get the whore's purse . . . Roland? Roland?"
"He probably got arrested," Mokuba said.
"Fuck!" Seto exclaimed.
Mokuba slid his phone out of his pocket. "Joan, I have Marc's number. Can I call Marc for you?"
"Ah ha! It's Joan," Seto said.
Mokuba rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Seto?"
"Marc has Michael's number," Joan said softly. "Call him."
Mokuba dialed his contact and got a busy signal. "Damn! Laura was in that club too. I bet she's his priority right now. No way he's going to answer a call from work."
"Yeah," Joan agreed. "He doesn't even know I'm out right now, let alone with you."
The limo pulled up in front of the Hyatt. "Let's get inside and figure this out later," Seto said as he took off his iconic white trench coat. He helped Joan into it and buckled it tight, tucking her wayward breast out of sight.
The moment they stepped out of the limo, they were blinded by a barrage of camera flashes. Joan's knees weakened at the sound of the mob and the brothers each slipped an arm behind her waist for support. She gripped their broad backs as if her life depended on it. Microphones appeared in their faces as they attempted to push their way through the reporters sans Roland.
"Let them pass!" Mokuba pleaded, "I'll tell you everything."
A narrow break in the mob allowed Joan and Seto to slip through.
"It was all a joke gone horribly wrong," Mokuba began.
You can enjoy Part 3 here:
Closing Note: I’d like to thank AliceKuroCross from DeviantArt for this awesome illustration. A larger version can be seen here: