Chapter 13 Adrian
Adrian
Afucking week passed, and every time I thought about calling Delilah or dragging her up to my office or penthouse, I felt fucking stupid.
Despite Cassius’ wise words, I still wanted Delilah here for my own pleasure. I wanted her here on my terms. Yet I’d made what felt like a fucking rookie mistake—I’d taken her up to my penthouse already.
That was supposed to be the “seal the deal” location. It was not supposed to be an “escalate the heat and pressure” location. I should have taken her there only if I knew I was going to get laid, not if I thought I was going to get laid.
Where else was I to go? A fucking helicopter? The top of a mountain?
I’d blown my prime location. The spot where I controlled everything was now the spot that I couldn’t take Delilah to for the first fuck. If I invited her over, she’d immediately have her guard up, and no amount of persuasion would get her panties down on the ground.
So…
Maybe I had to take a risk.
Maybe I had to leave it up to chance.
Maybe, for fuck’s sake, Cassius was right—I had to let go of control and do something entirely unexpected.
I couldn’t just call Delilah for an interview or summon her to my office or penthouse. I had to catch her off guard.
Wait.
I had to show up on her turf. I had to meet her where she’d think she was most comfortable.
There was an art to this, of course. I wouldn’t be the fucking loser who stood outside the window of the Las Vegas Times, calling her name, begging for attention.
I was a billionaire, which gave me more leeway to buy people off and assert my authority in certain spots, but there was a relatively thin line between being desperate and being clever.
Fortunately, I was the King of Diamonds. I didn’t fuck up this kind of thing. And if I did, like just a week ago, I could recover soon enough.
And sure enough, by the time I finished contemplating my next step, I knew exactly what I would do.
It was late on a Monday night, and by late, I mean eight p.m. Not late as in club-going hours or late as in late-night TV shows, but certainly late for working standards.
No regular corporate office was going to be crowded at this point; at best, certain employees would work late, but not the whole lot.
It was those “certain employees” part that I knew I could count on.
Delilah Reyes’ job all but mandated that her mental clock be in sync with the casino world around her, which meant she was bound to be more productive at eight p.m. than eight a.m. The other reporters who covered more benign topics wouldn’t be there, the editorial staff wouldn’t be there, and now that no one read a literal newspaper, the late-night staff wouldn’t be there either.
In short, a couple of security guards who I could fool with my confidence and charm and maybe a couple other easily bulldozed reporters were all that stood between me and Delilah Reyes.
Stalking? Maybe. Aggressive? Certainly. But what I wanted, perhaps even needed to do to get my dick inside Delilah Reyes?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
Let’s be honest here. As a billionaire, I could get away with certain behavior that other, less wealthy people couldn’t. I intended to use that to my advantage.
I walked up to the entrance to the Times, wearing a fake journalist placard and something else that would surprise Delilah.
On a deck of cards scale, instead of dressing like the King of Diamonds, I was just a seven. I wasn’t even a particular suit. Just a seven.
Why?
As I walked past the security guards with a quick smile, a gentle nod, and an uninterrupted walk, I scanned the badge into the entrance.
It worked without issue—like I said, being a billionaire got me certain privileges I used to my advantage—and walked inside.
I made my way straight for the doors, went up the stairs to the second floor, and walked into the newsroom.
There was only one person inside, but even if there hadn’t been, it would not have been difficult to spot her.
Delilah Reyes.
With that gorgeous curly hair, fierce brown eyes, and powerful presence, how could I not spot her?
“Hello there,” I said when I was within a few feet of her.
Delilah glanced up at me. She gave no immediate reaction, turning back to her computer.
And then she jumped when she realized that despite my dress, I was Adrian Vale, and she stood up, catching her breath.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” she snapped. “You don’t belong here!”
“I don’t, but I am here anyways,” I said.
“As for your question, I am here to talk to you, Delilah. You see, I think meeting in my space is far too personal. It puts you in an unfair position. I think the best place to let down our masks and show who we really are is, well, anywhere else. Would you not agree?”
Left unsaid was that any spot for Delilah Reyes was an unfair spot. She was good, certainly. Better than anyone else I’d ever engaged with, almost definitely.
But I was still better.
“Come with me,” she snapped. She left no room for discussion, not that I wanted one. It was all part of the bit—play what appeared to be a more casual version of myself before capitalizing when her guard dropped.
We walked through some more empty hallways, past individual offices that had no one in them. It was so quiet, I could hear the cleaning staff vacuuming a few office spaces down. I was tempted to crack a remark about job security, about how she’d be better working for us, but I knew better.
My sound bites had to be controlled and targeted, not just for my ego.
She eventually opened the door to a conference room with opaque windows, giving us complete privacy if she locked the door.
Which meant if I was good enough, I could fuck her tonight, right against that glass, for all the office to see.
“Now,” Delilah said, “what the hell are you doing here? And why are you dressed so… like that?”
Why, I could finally say.
“Before, let’s just say Adrian Vale and the King of Diamonds were inseparable,” I began. “Wherever you saw me, I was dressed as the self-made billionaire.”
“Made with your brothers.”
“Sure, whatever. Point being, I could understand why it might be difficult for you to feel comfortable around me. So, I thought, what if I just dressed well but not luxuriously?”
And, it went without saying, short sleeves and shorts that showed off my muscular arms, broad shoulders, thick calves, and who knew what else better?
The King of Diamonds clothing did a wonderful job of telling everyone who the wealthiest person in the room was, but I wasn’t above reminding an interest of mine who the most well-developed physically person in the room was.
Anything to get her mind going. Anything to make her imagination just a bit more aroused. Anything to get her closer to dropping those panties underneath that professional skirt.
“Symbolic,” Delilah said, “and not a guarantee of anything. I’ve been around enough people like you who think that a simple gesture will solve all their problems. Man caught cheating with wife?
Show up to interview with her holding a bunch of flowers.
Businessman accused of fraud? Why, show up with two kids from a local charity whom they helped.
Everything’s all good! Except it’s not.”
She motioned for a chair, holding out her hand. I chuckled but acquiesced. I could always stand up if need be.
“If you want to show me Adrian Vale, the person, and not Adrian Vale, the billionaire, then I suggest you do it with your words and your actions,” Delilah said.
“I’m interested in that man, but simple showmanship that costs you nothing means nothing to me.
I need proof that you value yourself over what being a billionaire gives you. ”
“Fair enough,” I said.
It was a bit of a glib response, something to move the conversation along, but there was something rather striking about what Delilah had just said.
No one had ever really forced that distinction on me; true, my brothers might occasionally speak in jest to me, and a couple long-lost friends would remark on how I’d changed with the money, but no woman had ever forced me to prove the distinction.
Some, it never got to this point. Some, the switch in clothing was enough. Some had even said what Delilah had said, but they hadn’t had the backbone to push it.
Just yet another example of how thrilling and exciting Delilah was.
“How would you like to start?”
“Why are you here?” she said. “That would be as good a start as any. And don’t give me a smartass answer. Give me a real answer. Give me an answer where I don’t have to call you out on your bullshit.”
Alright, I thought. A real answer.
Once we gave up the bullshit? It was empowering.
Damnit, Cassius, did you really have to fucking pop in now?
“No bullshit answer,” I said, drawing a sigh. Fuck, I wish I had a drink. “No bullshit? Delilah, I am here because you have an effect on me like no one else.”
Her eyes went wide. Opportunity, I thought. Opportunity to pry her open, make her more vulnerable, and go for the kill.
And, even weirder, an opportunity to understand her better and know her better.
“Most other women, after what happened at my penthouse, I’d just shrug off and say I would never see again.
I certainly would not have shown up at their offices.
But there’s something about you, it’s like sparring on an intellectual and verbal level.
I can’t tell you the last fucking time I had a truly interesting conversation with a woman.
Your refusal to bend to me, your unwavering honesty, and your hardass attitude? That’s fucking interesting to me.”
“It’s just me doing my job,” she said.
Except now it was my turn to call out the bullshit.
“I don’t believe that,” I said.
Delilah’s eyes widened. Two could play this game, I thought slyly.
“You say it’s just you doing your job, but you also know that some sources are a waste of time and energy.
You know that if you really wanted the clear picture of the Morrils or even of our family, you’d work to get other sources.
You’ve written plenty of stories in which the main subject wouldn’t even go on the record, right? ”
“Of course. It’s probably the norm.”
“Well, there you go,” I pressed on. “Maybe with most sources, you agree to the in-office meeting we had at my place. Fair enough. But you don’t go up to their penthouse.
You don’t, upon their arrival here, take them to a private conference room—a place, I might add, where you know we can do anything and no one will ever know. ”
Delilah’s expression remained unchanged, but her face began to blush. Perfect. I had her exactly where I wanted.
“You said you don’t want a smartass answer? You don’t want to play games anymore? Reasonable enough. But I don’t play games where I’m at a disadvantage. Only ones where the terms are even or I have an advantage. So I ask you, Delilah Reyes.”
I smirked. I almost stood up, the better to lean over her, put my face by hers, give her the opportunity to kiss me and then…
Not yet.
The psychological thrill was increasing.
And, somehow, in the back of my mind, genuine attraction was also going up. Not just the “get my dick wet” attraction. But something more.
I wasn’t yet sure if I liked it, but at the very least, I didn’t dislike it.
“Why do you keep giving me chances?”