Tom Billionaire Ch. 03

Taylor exhaled and reached up to stroke the side of my face with her fingertips. "Well, her lawyer won't respond to Cassandra's official inquiries. The only thing he's said is that his client will *not* see you at this time. But I've heard some things unofficially."

"How?"

"Melissa called her."

I nodded. Melissa was one of our original maids, back from when we'd first moved into the Montauk mansion. Over the last couple of years, she'd become the "mama-hen" of the group, even though she was only 26 herself.

"Anyways, Melissa talked to Charlotte, and Charlotte talked to me. Olivia's confused right now. I don't know if you knew it or not, but Olivia was a little infatuated with you. She liked this job too much to screw it up by breaking the rules and flirting with you, but she did have a crush on you. In her eyes, you were the ultimate man who could do no wrong."

"Apparently I could," I muttered, holding my forehead and rubbing it in frustration.

"They were really close friends. Olivia told Melissa everything. _Everything_. Clearly, even with the mild concussion, she remembers it better than you do."

I winced. I knew I'd nearly raped Olivia, but details were a little hazy for me.

"For a minute, she wanted it to happen," Taylor continued. "She was infatuated, and you were throwing yourself at her. She told Melissa as much, that she was kissing you back. She knew how stressed out you were, and that you were a little... off... at that moment. She thought that she might be able to help, that she could give you comfort in your time of need. But then she hit her head, and the next thing she knew, you were calling her 'Jada' and pinning her down to the couch.

I grimaced and turned away from my wife, walking away. "I don't think I need to hear the rest of this."

"Olivia doesn't hate you," Taylor said, following after me. "You were drunk and you weren't yourself. She could tell you weren't in your right mind."

"It doesn't excuse a thing. I'm a monster, no better than Martin Dean."

"NOT like Dean," Taylor spat hotly. "You *didn't* put yourself inside her."

"Only because she managed to get free." I shook my head. "She got lucky, but I still would have gone through with it."

"You're not a monster!" Taylor urged, behind me once again, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "You weren't yourself."

"Myself or not, it doesn't change the fact that I nearly raped her. *I lost control*. And the next time it might happen to YOU!"

My wife sighed, having nothing to refute that. She put her forehead against the back of my neck, calming herself. And then after another few seconds, she asked softly, "Why did you do it?"

"I don't know."

"It's because of Jada; it has to be. Olivia said you kept calling her 'Jada'. Out of everything that's happened, everyone who's betrayed you, why her?"

"This whole fucked-up thing starts with Jada. If she doesn't swipe those files, nothing goes wrong. Sharpley and Matthews can't steal the money. We don't go through any sanctions. Hell, we might've still been in Tahiti right now."

"There was nothing you could do."

"No," I shook my head. "I could have prevented this."

"How?"

"Not sleeping with Jada, for one." Just the mention of her name reminded me how thoroughly I'd been duped, and also reminded me of how I'd attacked Olivia thinking it was her. I grimaced in even further mental anguish.

Taylor stepped around to face me, her hand once again on my chest. "It wouldn't have made any difference. Sleep with her, don't sleep with her, you couldn't have prevented her from stealing whatever records she needed."

"Couldn't I? Think about it. The staff knows to be on alert if anyone goes snooping around that office. But everyone knows she and I were fucking, so if _she_ goes over there, maybe everyone just presumes she's doing something for me."

"Don't punish yourself with hypotheticals. I don't know all that much about your business, but I do know that Cassandra locked down that office tighter than a rodent's ass after Maureen tried to walk out of here with those documents. If Jada beat your security, she beat your security. Period."

"Still... I feel..."

"Betrayed?"

"YES!"

"Of course you do. You should. Nothing wrong with that."

"I want REVENGE," I growled, clenching my hands. I then folded my arms across my chest and paced away from my wife. I walked to the edge of the room, then turned and continued, mindlessly moving.

"I... I'm more mad about... _her_... whatever her real name is, than I am over Sharpley and Matthews." Already I could feel the rage that had driven me to assault Olivia rushing through my veins once again. Red haze fell over my eyes. And with a suddenness that frightened Taylor, I wheeled on her.

Instinctively, she cowered back. My wife had to believe I would never hurt her, but she already knew I was capable of almost anything if I got mad enough.

"Sharpley and Matthews were my executives!" I shouted. "THEY'RE the ones who stole that money from me. Whatever help 'Jada' gave them, THEY'RE the ones who were able to close the escrow accounts and transfer the funds out. I should be filled with hate for them!"

Taylor nodded meekly, keeping her distance. "Johnny..." she began quietly.

"But I don't. Sharpley and Matthews did it for money. I get that, greedy little men wanting money that isn't theirs. But Jada? Jada slept with me, she got intimate with me. That makes it _personal_," I seethed. "Sharpley and Matthews hurt me financially. They betrayed my company, my wallet."

Again, Taylor nodded, still backing away as I approached her menacingly. Her back hit the wall; she had nowhere left to go. And when I reached forward and grabbed her shoulders, she squeaked in fear. "Johnny..."

*"Jada betrayed ME."*

"Johnny..." Taylor whimpered, her blue eyes pleading. "You're hurting me."

Instantly, the red haze over my vision cleared. I jerked my hands away from her immediately, feeling the iron-hard tension in my fingers. And I felt my stomach lurch again as I recognized the look of absolute terror on my wife's face. "Oh, God. Taylor, I'm so *sorry* I-"

It was too late. Without a word, Taylor pushed past me and literally RAN out of the room.

_Shit! Shit! Shit-shit-SHIT!_

Turning away from the still-open door where my wife had fled from me in fear, I slapped my hand against my forehead and grimaced at the splitting headache that was rapidly forming at my temples.

Once again, I was all alone in the darkness. And once again, I buried my face in my hands and started to cry.

_What else can go wrong?_

****

My head was throbbing when consciousness returned to me. My cheek felt damp, and when I finally pried my eyelids apart from the brownish-yellow crust attempting to keep them closed, I realized it was because I'd been drooling onto the pillow.

My hand drifted of its own accord to the pillow beside me. It was empty, of course. Taylor would have spent the night with Ashlyn once again. I hadn't even seen her since she fled the room in terror after I'd grabbed her. I could only imagine the crazed expression on my face that had scared her so.

I fumbled out in the other direction, trying to get my palms planted on the mattress so I could push myself up. But I hit something in the bed, something that made a low ** sound when I hit it. And turning my head again, I saw the empty bottle of Patron tequila that had kept me company all night.

After remembering what had happened after drinking the Glenlivet scotch the previous day, I'd switched to tequila last night. The hangover making my head throb right now was my just reward. I grabbed the bottle by the neck, lifting it to me just to make sure it was what I thought it was. And then I carelessly tossed it onto the floor, hearing the muffled ** as it hit the shaggy rug beneath the bed that covered the hardwood floor.

At length, I managed to drag myself out from under the covers. The elegant clock on the night stand told me it was after 11am. This wasn't surprising as I'd stayed up drinking myself into a stupor until close to 4am. I'd wanted to go to sleep much earlier. But the demons of all my recent failures, from the money, to Jada, to Olivia, and now Taylor, haunted me and refused to leave my mind alone until I'd beaten them into submission with the tequila.

Eventually I made it into the bathroom to take a shit and splash some water on my face. I was still hunched over the sink when a figure appeared behind me in the mirror. And still groggy, I turned to see who it was.

"You look like hell," Cassandra commented.

"Feel like it, too."

She nodded. "You gonna attack *me* now?"

I furrowed my eyebrows.

She shrugged and spread her arms invitingly. "If you need to take out your aggression, I'm yours."

I grimaced, fresh pain in my head with memories of assaulting Olivia and even grabbing Taylor. "That's not funny."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to let you know I can handle anything."

I actually smiled. If nothing else, Cassandra was a big, strong woman. She was still beautiful and slender, but I knew her muscles held strength enough to hold me at bay should I go off the deep end. And for some reason, knowing that I couldn't really hurt her even if my mind snapped again was really, really reassuring.

"How *is* Taylor?"

"She's fine. She loves you. But I've convinced her for now that you need your space until we can get you fixed. This isn't something that warm affection and great sex can cure. You're not in the right mindset, and you've got bigger problems than that."

"Yeah..." I grimaced. "I know..."

"Fortunately, I think I can help."

I arched an eyebrow. She'd just said this couldn't be fixed with great sex, so what did she mean?

Cassandra grinned. "We found the money."

My jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Well, not all of it yet. But with the FBI Access Point, our guys were able to track down some of the secret accounts. And based on our pattern matching, we're finding more and more every hour. OFAC is freezing them as we speak. And Farnsworth is already in touch with the State Department and Interpol, working with foreign governments to trace their owners."

"You're kidding! How much have you found?"

Cassandra beamed. "1.5 billion. And again, more and more is coming."

I don't think I'd smiled this widely since JJ was born. All of a sudden, it felt like a million... no make that a *billion*... tons of weight had just slid off my shoulders. And I staggered forward while opening my arms to Cassandra for a hug.

She grinned and opened her arms to me, but just before I got to her, I stopped myself. Wincing, I balled my fists and pulled my arms back. "Uh, maybe that's not such a good idea. Even *I* don't trust myself."

"Relax, Jonathan," Cassandra stated, moving herself into the hug, pressing her chest against mine and squeezing me fiercely before kissing my cheek. "I told you: I can handle it."

****

It took me a while to compose myself. My self-confidence was still quite fragile, and I wasn't entirely convinced that the Mr. Hyde in me wouldn't suddenly burst free and do something _else_ so terrible I wouldn't be able to recover from it.

But Cassandra was eternally patient, and after a while, she got me to shave, clean up, and get dressed. And then she brought me downstairs into the common areas of the house.

The staff members we passed on the way were a little stiff at the sight of me. Melissa, the lead maid, put her hand to her chest and actually seemed scared. I actually tried to turn around and go back upstairs at that point, but Cassandra insisted. "You can't hide in your room forever."

"It's not for my sake," I argued. "It's to protect the world from *me*."

She shook her head and gripped my arm so firmly that I couldn't resist. And she continued by bringing me all the way to the family room.

"Dada!"

My eyes immediately dropped to the little 1-year-old with dark brown pigtails. She was wearing a very pretty brown corduroy dress with a pink and yellow flower embroidered in it, with a pink turtleneck and pink leggings to match. Smiling happily, she reached her arms out to me as she toddled forward. And as I knelt to receive her, she deliberately pitched herself forward so that I was forced to catch her as she fell into my arms.

Joey, of course, thought this was hilarious. And her giggles were enough on their own to completely reverse the direction of my mood.

JJ then crawled over, reaching my hip and then scrambling up my body as he brought himself to a standing position. He wobbled at the top, looking ready to drop right back onto his ass. But grabbing my arm, he steadied himself and looked at me with intense blue eyes. "Dah..." he mumbled.

Tears were once again on my cheeks, only this time I wasn't alone in the dark. I was smiling, and though I hugged my kids fiercely, I knew I was in full control of my strength.

Ashlyn knelt beside us, reaching out to stroke Joey's hair before touching my arm. "It's going to be okay."

Taylor was then on my other side. She hesitated for a second, then smiled and grabbed my head, pulling me toward her while she leaned in to kiss my cheek. "We'll get through this," Taylor stated softly, but firmly. "We'll get through this."

Exhaling with relief and holding onto my kids, I nodded my head.

****

Everything was looking better. JJ's rash was disappearing. Joey was babbling "dada" at me with regularity. And we'd found 2.3 billion of the missing money so far.

But most important, the great loves in my life were coming back to me.

Taylor got first crack – she was my wife, after all. After lunch, the pair of us retired to our bedroom, and I spent thirty minutes on my knees between her legs, worshipping her body and thanking her for all of her patience throughout this very strained time. Once she proclaimed that I had apologized enough, she pulled me up her body and pulled my aching dick into her body. And the two of us settled in to physically remind ourselves of our eternal love.

Ashlyn got the evening. It was less about apology for her, as Ashlyn felt that I hadn't done anything specific to hurt her. It was more that I had gone away, leaving her behind while I had to take care of some business. But now I was back home, and she was once again in my arms so that we could both enjoy each other again.

Cassandra patiently waited all the way until nighttime. Even then, she didn't want to have sex. I was already bedding down with Taylor and Ashlyn, the three of us together in the big bed to cuddle, when Cassandra finally came into the room. My wife and girlfriend quickly realized that I had not yet made love to my assistant, and looked ready to either leave us alone for privacy or invite her in for a big four-way if that was what she wanted.

But Cassandra waved them off, simply climbing onto the bed while fully dressed and pulling down the sheets until she could get to my pajama pants. Then, she quickly extracted my cock and fed upon me, humming as she tasted the remnants of my last coupling with Ashlyn. And with a delicate touch and expert precision, she blew me for a good fifteen minutes.

I nearly came three times, my eyes rolling up into my head and my back arching off the mattress, but Cassandra backed away each time. Taylor and Ashlyn were right beside me, stroking my forehead and chest, or planting little kisses against my neck. They made no moves to interfere with what Cassandra was doing, and by the end of those fifteen minutes, I was a quivering, trembling sad sack of a human being.

But then Cassandra finally brought me off, with rapid hand strokes and powerful suction. I came like a firehouse despite planting a great wad in Ashlyn's snatch less than an hour before. I came and I came and I came, spewing gallons of liquid lava into my assistant's mouth and down her gullet. And with each successive jet, I felt like another great boulder of pent-up stress was leaving me behind.

And then she left, returning to her own room. I missed her, but it was just Cassandra's way.

****

*-- NOVEMBER --*

I lay comfortably on the couch in the home office, tossing a New York Giants football up and down just to keep my hands occupied. It was still morning, and it had been a very productive morning at that.

Under the biggest financial investigation of the decade, if not in all of history, wire transfers had finally been discovered and various bank accounts around the world had been frozen. Tracing all the myriad transactions was painstakingly difficult, sifting through literally thousands of records to identify suspect transfers. But with the FBI and OFAC still giving us access to the data and JKE geniuses analyzing it, our discoveries were growing by leaps and bounds.

I took heart that we could discover almost all the money eventually. The simple fact was, 4.2 billion was simply too much to spend in such a short amount of time. I knew; I'd tried. Plus, Sharpley and Matthews would HAVE to be keeping a low profile to avoid discovery, which meant they couldn't be making any major purchases with their stolen loot. I was still missing 1.65 billion, and was 1.05 billion short of break-even; but with enough time, and enough manpower, we'd dig out of this hole yet.

The phone rang.

Cassandra, at the desk, immediately looked over at it. She recognized the caller ID and smiled, saying, "That will be Agent Farnsworth, thanking me once again for putting the JKE wizards to work on the wire transfers."

I chuckled and caught the ball, trapping it against my chest and quieting down to hear what had to be said. Cassandra punched the speakerphone button, answering, "Hello, Barry."

The FBI agent cut past any small talk, all-business. I rather liked that about him. "We found Ken Matthews."

I sat up straight, calling out, "Where?"

Despite the microphone being way over on the desk, Farnsworth heard me. "Brazil. He was trying to get plastic surgery to change his face. We're working on extradition now. But in the meantime, we've discovered four more accounts he was accessing and froze all of them. 300 million total."

I smiled across the desk at Cassandra, who beamed right back. "That's great news," I told the agent.

"I'll keep you posted." And then without waiting for further pleasantries, he hung up.

I sagged against the backrest, whistling. "We might actually contain this thing. Nabbing Matthews might be the key to unraveling all of this. He was the one who set up all those escrow accounts, and he's the most likely to know where everything initially went. We'll be able to backtrack from there."

Cassandra nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "You want even better news?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Better than getting the architect of this whole theft? What could be better?"

Cassandra's eyes gleamed. "I found Jada Sharpley."

Before I realized it, I'd jumped to my feet, taken two steps forward, and leaned over the desk. "Say that again?"

She grinned, all pearly white teeth. "*I* found 'Jada Sharpley'. Well, 'Crystal Ward', to be precise."

I remembered. Immediately after the discovery that the woman babysitting my kids was NOT the real daughter of Robert Sharpley, the investigating unit had gone into overdrive to figure out who she really was. Fingerprints of her room were taken, as well as DNA samples. And within days, we'd identified her as one Crystal Ward, 23, with an address in the Bronx. She had a record: one arrest for solicitation, five years ago.

"She's a hooker?" I'd asked incredulously on the discovery.

"Barely legal when she got busted, at that," Cassandra had confirmed. "But recent reports had her working at a high-end escort agency, specializing in The Girlfriend Experience. They're subpoenaing the company to try and pull records, to see if Sharpley or Matthews was ever a client."