Vicious Tycoon (The Billion-Dollar Men Book 2)

Prologue

I never understood weddings.

The cost.

The extravagant performance from your vows to your first dance as man and wife to the cutting of the red velvet cake that no one actually ate.

The two families coming together as one.

The speeches.

The bride throwing the bouquet and the groom the garter.

For someone who didn’t care much for weddings, I found myself at them more often than I gave a shit about.

You see, it was all bullshit.

One big production.

A huge lie.

Beginning with the life sentence of “will you marry me” while you’re down on a knee as if you’re begging her to say yes to you.

And don’t get me started on the term soulmate…

A bunch of Hallmark propaganda made to fuck you over in the end when she hired the most expensive lawyer money could buy to take you for everything you’re worth.

Again, it was all bullshit wrapped in a bright red bow, served on a silver platter beside your balls that you willingly just handed her.

I know what you’re thinking. Who hurt me, right? What happened to me? Who broke my heart? What’s my origin story for being so cynical at only twenty-five years old?

Well, the truth was my parents were still married, and the generations before them were too, but let’s get one thing straight right off the bat. Marriage in my family was simply a business transaction of who would further your career.

Your reputation.

Your lifestyle.

Especially your finances.

I came from a long line of successful actors and actresses. Decades of A-list celebrities who won multiple Oscars and Academy Awards were merely the shoes I had to step into.

There wasn’t a decision to be had on my part.

I was born to be an actor, whether I wanted to be or not. But not just an actor—I was born to be a star. The walk of fame was basically my family’s legacy. Handprints of blood, sweat, and tears followed each footstep as you walked down the monumental sidewalk.

It was more than a calling for me—it was a blueprint for a future I had no choice but to say yes to because I was Nicholas Aires III.

My parents were icons.

We weren’t just rich. We were generationally wealthy, which meant we had two very different statuses in the world of the elite. My family was a staple in the industry and in the lifestyle of the rich and famous, setting the bar incredibly high for those whose moments would eventually come.

Everything in this business was a moment in time.

The past.

Present.

Future.

You were as good as the movie or television show you had out.

End of story.

As much as cancel culture existed, there was still a high demand for second chances in the incredibly toxic, self-absorbed LA town. People loved a good comeback story. It made strangers feel as if we were just like them, and becoming relatable overnight was the only straw I had left to grab.

Despite being labeled the bad boy of Hollywood from the second my balls dropped. I’d never been in trouble quite like I had been these past few months. I was born a trust-fund baby, and you’d think that would have made life easier for me.

Not in the Aires legacy.

It was the exact opposite.

The pressure to get my shit together was at an all-time high, basically burning into my skin by my management team and family. If I couldn’t get this to work, I’d be fucked six ways till Sunday.

Out of nowhere, my career depended on America’s sweetheart agreeing to be my love interest for the next Blockbuster, a romantic drama movie hitting the theaters on Christmas.

Bailey Pierce-McGraw.

She was everything I wasn’t.

Proper.

Composed.

Polite.

Little Miss Goody Two-shoes could do no wrong in the limelight. She was the highest-paid actress for the past few years. Not to mention, her father and stepfather were legacies in their own rights. And don’t get me started on her grandfather, who descended from a bloodline of outlaw bikers.

All of this was who she was to the world and to her family…

To me, I knew the girl she was behind closed doors.

The one who was my first everything, and I do mean everything—on- and off-screen.

Seven years later, she was now my only hope.

Except it wasn’t about getting her to agree to co-star with me. It was about getting her management team to approve. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what we wanted to sign the dotted line for; our management teams would always have the last word on where our career turned and whether we said yes or no to the project.

And at the current moment in time, the world thought I was a recovering drug addict, fresh out of rehab a couple of weeks ago. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Don’t get me wrong, I did my fair share of partying. I was young, and the world was literally at my fingertips. I might as well be dead if I wasn’t taking advantage of it.

However, my recreational drug use was far from a problem. That didn’t stop me from going down in a blaze of glory, making Bailey the only reason I was in this bullshit narrative to begin with.

She owed me.

Big time.

Now, if we could just get her management team to agree to have her play the role, she’d be my second chance at saving what was left of my career. The deadline to begin filming was quickly approaching, and I needed her to be my love interest.

When the truth was, after all these years, she might have been the one who got away…

Shit, maybe that was the beginning of my origin story?

I didn’t have too much time to think about it as I walked into the seven-figure wedding I had no business attending. I wasn’t invited, and I was only there dressed in a black suit, trying my best to blend in, because I needed a favor from a man who owed me one.

Self-made billionaire Elias Sinclair was my last resource of actually making this happen, or I’d be up a creek without a paddle. His wife, Capri, was Bailey’s publicist, and if anyone could convince her team to let her costar with me, it’d be her. This couldn’t have been worse timing.

The man just got married in their home, for fuck’s sake.

Yet there I was, waiting in his office, trying to pretend I wasn’t anxious about his response to my demand. But you know what they say—“No good deed goes unpunished.”

It was time to pay the piper.

I eyed the wall art in his office as I waited for him. A one-of-a-kind canvas stared back at me, reminding me so much of my father’s office. There was something about men in power and art. The more exquisite the piece, the more you had to kiss their asses.

It wasn’t until I heard the clicking of Elias’s dress shoes and then him stopping dead in his tracks that I turned around to face him.

The second we locked eyes, he cocked his head to the side. “Aires?” he announced, fully aware of why I was there in the first place.

With my hands in the pockets of my suit jacket, I didn’t hesitate to speak with conviction…

“I’m here to call in my favor.”