Ruthless Game

Chapter 1

Christian Elliot

“Profits are up twenty percent. Our stocks are trading high. We’re in an excellent position.”

I turned my chair enough to take a quick glimpse at the PowerPoint presentation. Our CFO had yet to move away from the more primitive method of highlighting the company’s good fortune. I concurred. We were in a very strong position, also exploited by our expanding portfolio.

No longer were we only involved in the purchase and dismantling of failing companies; we’d also ventured into land development. Our stock had soared almost immediately after the announcement.

“How are we with the contracts overseas?” I asked, which continued to be the burning yet unanswered question. Elliot Enterprises was set to initiate new operations in several foreign countries, which would increase our bottom line by hundreds of millions of dollars.

Potentially. A word my father enjoyed tossing around as a slight.

Suddenly, everyone in the room seemed uncomfortable; three of the board members glanced amongst themselves without looking me directly in the eye.

“Why don’t we continue the meeting tomorrow,” my father told everyone, already nodding toward the door. He was dismissing them, which meant he had something on his mind.

Something I wouldn’t like.

Stiffening, I watched as the members gathered their things, quickly leaving the room as if there was a sudden fire in the building.

“Stay for just a moment, Christian,” my father commanded.

I sat back in my seat, eyeing every single board member individually as they filed out, the last one closing the door behind him.

Sighing, I glanced out the window. Carmichael Elliot was the founding father of the company, only recently retiring.

Yet he remained on the board if for no other reason than to annoy the hell out of me.

He’d built the company from barely making ends meet to the multibillion-dollar corporation it was today.

“What’s up, Pops? We’ll need to cut this short as I do have other meetings today.”

He swiveled his leather chair, sliding a file he had under the financials toward me.

“What’s this?” I asked, snapping my fingers on the cardboard to keep it from being tossed to the floor.

“Take a look and you tell me.”

My father had been more like a dictator than a diplomat, running the company with an iron fist. While highly respected by some, he’d earned his reputation as a savage in the boardroom. He’d also never been a warm and loving father.

I opened the file, instantly amused as I flipped from one photograph to another.

Each one had been captured by paparazzi, glitzy photos of different women I’d enjoyed spending time with.

In truth, I had been bored to death, annoyed they’d latched on as if they would ever be of importance in my life.

“Who did you task with creating a memory board of my recent excursions?”

He drummed his fingers on the conference room table. “You’re nothing but a playboy, Christian. That was acceptable when you were in your twenties and merely holding an honorary position as vice president. Now that you’re CEO, that behavior can’t continue.”

“And exactly why is that?”

He turned to face me, leaning forward with his hands clasped. “Because we’re moving into some very conservative countries who value families more than anything. To come in as the playboy you are will be considered an insult. Contracts have yet to be signed because of your depraved behavior.”

“Oh, come on.” I shot the file back in his direction. “We’re not in the dark ages any longer.”

“In some countries, they still are.”

“Are you trying to suggest the contracts might not be signed if I don’t pretend that I’m a homeboy, watching Netflix dutifully every night?” I laughed. This was such a joke.

“I’m not suggesting. I’m telling you that’s what will happen.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“I suggest you settle down.”

“Meaning?”

He leaned further forward, giving me the same stern look he had when I was younger and dishonored him in some way. “You need to get married.”

I almost choked. “That’s tough since I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“That’s because you’re fucked around on every girlfriend you’ve ever had, Christian. I don’t claim to be an expert with women, but infidelity is usually a deal breaker.”

Instead of reminding him that he’d had his share of mistresses, I gritted my teeth. Arguing with my father wouldn’t get me anywhere. “So please, Dad. Give me a few recommendations on how to find a wife.”

“I don’t care if you buy one. As long as you remain faithful, at least in the public eye until we’re firmly entrenched in these contracts, then I don’t care how you do it.”

“For how long?”

“Six months minimum.”

Six months. He had to be kidding me.

The man was serious. I narrowed my eyes. “Are you asking me or telling me to find a wife?”

He wasn’t a man who wasted time, something I’d inherited from him. “Let’s just say your continued position within this company depends on your compliance. I can see potential in your brother. But you’re a team player, Christian. I’m certain you won’t disappoint me.”

My brother. He would toss Carson into my face. We’d been competitive since we were kids. My father knew how much I hated losing. That’s what he was counting on.

Without uttering another word, he filed out. I took a few seconds before standing, shoving the chair by several feet as I did. To say I was pissed as hell was an understatement. I buttoned my suit jacket, laughing softly to myself as I headed from the conference room.

As I passed the offices as well as the vast arrays of desks housing the administrative team, my reputation for being even more ruthless than my father was highlighted on the employees’ faces.

To hell with them.

I was the reason they still had a paycheck.

The moment I stormed into my corner office, the company attorney and my best friend Michael Jeffries strolled into the room with papers in his hand. As soon as he noticed my dark expression, he burst into laughter. “The board meeting was that bad?”

I headed to the window, staring out at the incredible view of Miami including the turquoise ocean waters.

I should consider myself the luckiest man in the world since I was close to being the wealthiest. However, right now it felt as if I had a noose wrapped around my neck, dozens of people eager to shove me off the edge of the cliff.

Fuck them all.

“My father insists I settle down.”

He coughed. “You, playboy of the year?”

I threw him a pointed look over my shoulder. “This isn’t a joke. He wants me to get married, even in name only.”

“Ah, the new contracts. That’s why I popped into your office. I don’t like the various codicils and new conditions that are being suggested.”

“Let me guess. They want family values added and if it’s not there they’ll have a way out of the contracts.”

“You’re a mind reader. Barbaric, but they know how badly we want their business.”

“That was our first mistake.” And the last recommendation I’d take from my father.

“Maybe getting married isn’t a bad idea. You can always get it annulled or pay out millions of dollars in a fancy divorce while being crucified in the press.” He laughed as he moved to one of my office chairs, flopping down as if he owned the place.

Meanwhile, I gritted my teeth. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but think of it as just another contract.”

“Alright, Mr. Genius,” I barked as I unbuttoned my jacket, driving my hands into my trouser pockets.

“Since you’re such a relationship expert, how do you suggest going about finding a wife who’ll pretend we’re madly in love in public while following a strict set of rules, which will include the inability to touch my bank account and who won’t fight for new contractual terms when the relationship is over?

I ask since you’re on your sixth girlfriend this year. But who’s counting?”

“Cold, my friend. Cold. I can tell why you’re unattached.” He shook his head, finally lifting an eyebrow while managing a condescending look. “There are thousands of successful companies created for exactly what you need.”

“I’m not talking about an escort service. I don’t need a scandal and you know every reporter in this goddamn town will scour backgrounds and graveyards to discover dirt to enhance their careers.”

Michael pushed himself from the chair, giving me a look of pure amusement.

He tossed papers on my desk. “You should read the new draft contracts. Maybe they’ll provide you with needed incentive.

I have two words for you, my friend. Be creative.

It’s time for you to think outside the box. You do have an imagination. Don’t you?”

“Oh, I have an imagination alright, but I mostly use it to think of ways to punish wayward employees, including tarring and feathering them when they’re out of line. Why don’t you provide me with some suggestions?”

Michael’s head cocked, and the corner of his lip upturned. “Ouch. That hurts. Sure, why not? My guess is I can hunt down exactly what you need. Too bad a man of such great stature can’t do that for himself.”

He headed to the door, winking just before walking out.

“Asshole.”

When he stuck his head back through the doorway, I grimaced. “Racquetball later? You could use a release of testosterone.”

“Very funny. Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”

With my blood boiling, I headed to my desk, almost toppling the chair as I sat down forcefully. I snatched the contracts, hurriedly flipping from one page to the other, groaning as I read the additions.

Absolute bullshit.

However, I knew instinctively the prospective clients would refuse to budge and almost a year of negotiations would be tossed in the toilet. Millions of dollars spent. I’d lose my position. The stocks would tumble. We’d become the laughingstock of the East Coast.

And my brother would find himself in my office.

“Fuck.” I slammed my hands on my desk, jolting my laptop.

When the screen popped up to the tropical screensaver, I had to laugh.

I’d promised myself I’d retire by fifty.

No later. To a tropical island I purchased.

At this rate, I’d be lucky to be able to vacation for a single week in a tiny motel in Key Largo.

I raked my hands through my hair, holding my head in my hands as I mulled over if I was willing to compromise to make a deal.

The ugly truth was there was nothing else remotely feasible at this juncture.

Fake wife or possible bankruptcy.

I closed my eyes, allowing the fury to continue building. Fine. I’d find a fake wife, but there would be rules.

My rules.