Off Limits Mogul (The Billionaire Moguls #2)

Chapter 1

Rhys

Even though it feels like my balls are melting, I’m too starved to bother with a shower before filling my stomach.

What a day.

I enter the hotel’s restaurant.

“Mr. Hartford,” the ma?tre d’h?tel says with a head bow.

“Good evening.”

“Let me show you to your table.”

Dinner service ends at ten p.m. Unfortunately for me, by the time I got back to the hotel it was eleven p.m. This is my third hellish day in a row in Ho Chi Minh City.

Thank God for the top-notch service at my usual stomping ground.

One phone call, and I was set. No wonder the thirty-nine-story Reverie Saigon Hotel in Vietnam is synonymous with excellence.

I follow the ma?tre d’ through a bustling and animated crowd. Even at this late time, the luxurious restaurant is packed. As we pass a table, two gorgeous blondes rake their eyes up and down the length of my body, eyeing me like I’m a juicy steak.

The one with the blue eyes touches her bare neck.

The other one squints her brown eyes at me, almost as if she’s committing every part of me to memory.

I respond with a polite smile and keep walking.

You’re losing your touch, Hartford.

The blatant desire shining bright in their eyes, is a reminder that I’ve been a little too serious about adulting lately.

If my day hadn’t whipped my ass—scratch that—if this week hadn’t been a complete mind fuck, I’d invite them to my table.

A red-hot night of raunchiness isn’t on the cards for me.

Not when I have more shit to shovel bright and early tomorrow morning.

“Since you pre-ordered your meal, a waiter should be out shortly,” the ma?tre d’ says when we arrive at my table. “Can I get you a drink in the meantime?”

I need at least five drinks to mellow out after the day I’ve had, but let’s start with one. “I’ll have a local beer, please—”

My phone rings.

I look at my screen and smile wide.

The ma?tre d’h?tel excuses himself with a head nod.

I respond in kind before answering. “Noah.”

“Hey, Rhys,” my best friend says. “Trolling bars for a victim?”

“Don’t ever quit your day job,” I say. “And for your information, I don’t have to go far. I have takers.”

“Plural?”

“Plural.”

“Mr. Player,” he says. “It’s good to be you.”

“Well, we can’t all be Rhys Hartford.”

I slide my weary body onto one of the seats and lean back, biting down a groan.

The blondes are still staring, throwing flirtatious glances my way.

Sorry, ladies. I’m jetlagged, bone-tired, and my head is so crammed with stuff, it’s about to explode.

It’s pretty pathetic when your bed is calling you more than two willing pussies.

I catch sight of a waiter approaching, balancing a tall glass of beer on a tray, and I let out a silent prayer.

Hey, sexy thing. Come to Daddy.

I thank the waiter before bringing the glass to my lips, guzzling down a quarter of my drink.

“Seriously, am I calling at a bad time? I know your trip has nothing to do with pleasure.”

“Nope. I’m in Ho Chi Minh City to put out fires.” I drop my glass on the table. “My day started at six a.m. and I’m just having dinner now.”

“Ouch,” Noah says.

“I’m brain-dead.”

“Being the COO of one of the leading audio bass headphone companies in the world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he says with a laugh.

“Tell me about it,” I say. “I swear to God, I got gypped.”

“In what sense?”

“I should’ve set my sights on the CEO title of SCORE MAX Audio Bass instead of being the chief operating officer. That’s the cushy job—”

“One your business partner holds. You want to dethrone Beckett Christensen?”

“I’m thinking of it.”

“Vietnam isn’t treating your kindly.”

“So far, the days have been interminable and punishing. And it’s hotter than Hades down here––ball-melting scalding-hot is a more accurate description of the heat level.

While I struggle to breathe in this oppressive humidity, pretty boy Beckett is in LA party-hopping and hogging the attention of the press. ”

“What’s new about pretty boy Beckett getting the attention of the media? Isn’t that an everyday occurrence?”

“Yeah, but he’s making headlines for another reason these days.”

“Trouble in paradise? I thought Beckett and you have the perfect partnership?”

“We do,” I say. “However, I sure as hell can’t wait to get back to LA. The only plus side to this trip—other than dealing with this production crisis that blindsided us—is that we get to hang out for a few days. When are you flying in?”

“About that…”

“You can’t make it?”

“I can’t.”

“What happened?”

“I thought I’d be able to steal four days while production is shooting another scene without special effects, but I have to stay put in Doubtful Sound. The freak storm in New Zealand delayed production, and now we’re playing catch-up.”

“Another time, then.” I try to hide my disappointment.

“I’m really sorry. We haven’t seen each other since I left LA, and I was looking forward to it, but this is my big break. I can’t screw it up––”

“I know how much this opportunity means to you. This TV series will change your life. You do what you have to do. When the time is right, we’ll connect.”

“Thanks for understanding,” Noah says.

“If things weren’t as hectic on my end, I’d try to make it to New Zealand, but after Vietnam, I’m heading to South Korea.”

“The timing is off for both of us,” he says.

“That’s what happens when your best friend is the special effects supervisor on the most watched fantasy drama series set in a medieval fictional world. I hope knows you’re their secret weapon.”

“Says the guy sitting on a multibillion-dollar company.”

We both laugh.

“Listen, Rhys, I have a favor to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“Keira called me—”

“How’s your baby sister’s trip to Thailand?”

“So far, bumpy.”

“What happened?”

“On the second day after she arrived in Bangkok, a little girl pretending to need help approached her and her friend. Turns out, the girl was a decoy for a group of thieves. Keira’s bag, containing her iPhone, was stolen.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Did they steal her wallet?”

“They did,” Noah says.

“Fuck.”

“The thieves didn’t get much. They made out with coins.”

“What happened to her money?”

“Keira carries her ID and money under her clothing—a habit she acquired from living with the nuns.”

“Sneaky.”

“Yeah, my kid sister can be pretty smart,” he says. “About that favor…”

“Does it have to do with Keira?”

“As a matter of fact, it does.”

“Do you need me to send her money for a new iPhone?”

“Nah. She bought a replacement flip phone that’s functional. She can send and receive text messages. She says it’ll do for now.”

“Okay. How can I help?”

“It’s a big favor.”

Why is he beating around the bush? “Noah, you’re my best friend and you’ve been there for me more times than I can count. Unless this has to do with ordering a hit on someone, you can ask me anything.”

“Keira decided to travel for another two weeks since she has a travel companion. She’s going to Laos next.”

“Good for her.”

“She’s ready to come out of hiding, Rhys.” The weight of his words hangs heavy in his extended silence.

“This day was bound to come.” I play it down, but this is huge.

“She doesn’t want to go back to London––”

“With good reason,” I say.

“No one can blame her for not wanting to set foot in that city ever again after everything she’s had to endure,” Noah says.

The anger in his voice has somewhat faded.

Still, a tinge of it remains. Not that I can blame him.

His little sister has been to hell and back.

“Keira visited me here right after leaving London, but New Zealand isn’t her home.

” He pauses. “She’s ready to go back Stateside… ”

I remain silent.

“She insists she’s doing better––and I’m sure she is…

that was the whole point of her isolation––but I don’t want her living alone in a house or an apartment.

She’s not ready yet.” He lets out a loud sigh.

“I know I’m asking a lot and I also know this favor might put a serious wrinkle in your pussy time. ” He laughs at his own joke. I don’t.

“What’s the favor?” I think I know what’s coming.

“Can she stay with you?”

There it is.

“In between running your empire, attending fancy galas, and holding onto your rank as one of the most eligible bachelor playboys in LA, I’m also asking for you to big-brother her… like you did when she was growing up.”

I rake a hand through my hair.

“She looks up to you.”

I haven’t been on her list of favorite people in a while.

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Noah says. “It’s not like she has anyone else. LA can be a big bad city. She needs a little time to get back on her feet.”

Myriad emotions conflict inside me.

“I don’t want to have to worry about her when I’m on the other side of the planet.” Noah soldiers on. “With you, I’ll have the peace of mind she’s safe because you’ll watch over her.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose before scrubbing a hand over my face in frustration.

I know I told him he could ask me anything. This wasn’t on the list.

“I’ll send you money to cover her expenses––”

“Shut up about that, Weatherly.”