The Arrangement

I pushed the model’s fake tits out of my face so I could get a clear view of New York’s skyline from the window of my private jet. The Big Apple. The City That Never Sleeps.

“Xavier,” she whined, sliding herself back into my lap. “We still have a couple minutes before we land. We could have a little more fun…”

I held back a sigh as she pressed her lips to my neck. Two things are guaranteed to turn a girl on: power, and a fuckload of money. I grabbed her ass and tried to lose myself in her body, to forget the reasons I had to fly back to New York—my responsibilities to a multi-billion dollar company and the anniversary of my mother’s death. But mostly I tried to forget about my cheating ex. If I ever had a heart, it was gone now. Pulverized.

The plane hit a patch of turbulence, causing champagne to spill all over my pants.

“Please buckle up, sir,” the pilot said over the intercom. “We’ll be hitting some turbulence during our descent.”

The model—what was her name again?—gave me a mischievous grin. “I’ll clean that up for you.” She dragged her lips down my torso, resting on her knees between my legs.

“Didn’t you hear the captain?” I asked as she tugged at my belt. “We’re supposed to buckle up.”

“I’ve never been a fan of buckles,” she said, undoing mine. “I like my rides a little rough.”

I leaned back and let her have her fun. The private jet made women do crazy things. I just had to humor my dad for his stupid “emergency meeting.” Then, I’d get back to doing whatever the fuck I felt like. I closed my eyes, leaned back and enjoyed the ride.

Brad Knight was many things: A genius CEO, a business savant, and the patriarch of his own empire, built from the ground up. He was one of the richest, most powerful, and recognizable men in the entire world. He was also, unfortunately, my father.

I shrugged, lounging on Mom’s memorial bench in Central Park. It had been less than 24-hours since I’d landed. He didn’t even give me time to settle in before he started berating me.

“She was literally begging me for it.”

“She was a classy girl.” I shrugged. “Art turned her on.”

Dad shook his head, disappointment radiating off of him in waves. “Aggravated assault, reckless driving, possession of illicit drugs…you’re out of control, Son.”

“I’m a product of my upbringing.” I glanced around, checking to see if anyone recognized me. I wore dark aviator sunglasses and a baseball hat, but the disguise wouldn’t fool the paparazzi for long. “Do we have to do this here?”

Dad patted the bench fondly, and my eyes automatically went to its engraved plaque.

Dad turned his anguished eyes to me and immediately I felt guilty. He hadn’t been the same since Mom died. Neither of us had.

“I don’t know what to do with you anymore, Xavier,” he said. “So, I need her help.”

“What to do with me?” I said, my voice rising in anger. “How about you leave me the hell alone? Disown me if you’re so scared of my public image.”

The words were out before I could take them back. Without Knight Enterprises, I’d have nothing. Hell if I’d tell him that, though.

“You know I don’t want to do that,” Dad said softly. “Xavier. Help me help you.”

I growled a response. “I don’t need help.”

“Xavier,” Dad said, his tone sharper. “If you don’t listen, there will be consequences.”

“Sure,” I said, standing up. “Whatever. Nice chat.”

This was the reason he summoned me to New York? To threaten me with consequences? My partying was hardly an emergency. I could have slept in this morning. But the trip wouldn’t be a total waste. I’d hit up my favorite clubs—Gospel, Electric Room, The Box—and then I’d fly back to Ibiza, or maybe Mykonos.

“I was like you once, Xavier,” Dad said. “Angry at the world. Lashing out at anything and anyone. Chasing one empty pleasure after another until I felt nothing left inside of me.”

I paused.

“Do you know what changed me? What saved me?” Dad asked.

I turned around, looking at mom’s memorial bench. I could guess.

He nodded. “Amelia saved me…and so did you, Son. The two of you were the light that pulled me out of the darkness.” Dad looked at me, determination on his face. “I want the same for you.”

I stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You need someone to balance you out. To be what your mother was for me. You need to find your other half.”

I laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

“A good woman will keep you responsible. She’ll clean up your public image. I don’t want to kick you out of the company, Son. We need a way for the stakeholders to see you’ve matured enough to take over as CEO once I step down.”

“Great,” I said, sarcastically. “I’ll join Raya. Happy now?”

“No,” he said, his eyes serious. “You’re getting married to a woman of my choosing. Or you’ll never become CEO of Knight Enterprises. And I’m cutting you off, for good.”

“I heard he was arrested for public indecency at the Louvre. A model gave him a blowjob in front of the Mona Lisa.”

“I heard he’s in the top five on the Forbes Billionaire’s list.”

Two women were thumbing through a tabloid on their lunch break, ogling the man on the cover. I waited to see if they’d buy anything from Em’s shop, or if they just wanted to gossip.

“Well, the rules don’t apply to Xavier Knight. He’s the king of New York.”

I snuck a peek at the magazine cover. Xavier Knight was clearly tipsy, stepping out of a red McLaren, somewhere on the streets of Monaco. But I had to admit, with his chiseled jawline, full lips and tousled dark brown hair, he was very sexy, even when drunk. Xavier Knight had the kind of face that photographed well from any angle.

“Would you like to buy some flowers?”

My friend Em was letting me work in her flower shop while I searched for a full-time job, and I wanted her small business to thrive. Also, it was nearly the end of my shift.

“No thank you,” one of the women said, putting the tabloid magazine back in its place. “We’re just browsing.”

I smiled. “Thanks for stopping by.”

At the very least, they could have bought the magazine, if not a bouquet. After cleaning up, I gathered a bunch of lilies that wouldn’t last much longer. Normally, I donated unsold flowers to local hospitals and senior centers, but today there weren’t that many. I’d just bring these lilies back to the apartment I shared with Em.

Em’s flower shop was a short walk from Central Park, and I strolled down the meandering paths, enjoying the afternoon sunshine. Suddenly, a man in a baseball cap and aviator sunglasses came storming down the path and bumped into me, hard.

As if in slow motion, I felt myself falling. The lilies flew from my hands, scattering on the ground. Then I hit the pavement with a heavy thud.

I looked up, my butt smarting in pain, at the most handsome man I’d ever seen. His white button-down shirt was tailored to perfection against his muscular frame. Beneath his cap, I saw a tendril of tousled dark hair, a chiseled jaw and full lips. He extended a hand toward me, and I reached back, expecting him to help me up.

Instead, he withdrew his hand and brushed off his white shirt as if I’d dirtied him. What the heck?

I gasped. “Excuse you! You made me drop my flowers!”

“What? You bumped into me!”

His rolex glinted in the sunlight and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. What was his problem? Choosing what type of caviar to order? But something was nagging at me. He was unbelievably attractive, and there was something familiar about his face…

“Do I know you?” I asked.

“No!” He said, tugging down his baseball cap. “You don’t.”

I groaned as I got to my feet, collecting the lilies that had fallen to the ground. I had too much on my mind to care about some rude, good-looking douchebag. But then I gasped, staring at him. He wasn’t just any good-looking douchebag.

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. This man wasXavier Knight. The bad-boy billionaire on the cover of the tabloid. The King of New York. A jet-setting member of the elite who did whatever the hell he pleased.

Sex.

Drugs.

Races.

He was wild.

I took a step forward, poking him in the chest.

“I know who you are. You’re Xav—”

Before I could finish my sentence, he pulled me close and clapped a hand over my mouth. My heart began pounding, my veins pulsing with a mixture of fear and excitement. He smelled amazing, like expensive cologne.

“Shhh,” he hissed.

“Mmm!” I protested, but the sound was muffled. Honestly, I enjoyed the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me, even if he was acting like a psycho. Slowly, he released his hand, speaking in a low whisper.

“The paparazzi could be anywhere!”

“Good,” I said. “They’ll get a good shot of you smothering me.”

“Smothering you? I’m not—get away from me!”

He took a dramatic step back. Then he looked around Central Park, as if every woman here should be drooling at his feet. Instead they were happily walking their dogs, oblivious.

“Paranoid much?” I asked with a smirk.

He glared at me from behind his aviator sunglasses. “Move. You’re blocking the path. I have places to be.”

I stepped aside, and he stormed away without so much as a second glance at me.

“Have the day you deserve!” I called after him.

What an arrogant, obnoxious, ridiculously attractive man. Em would never believe I’d run into the one and only Xavier Knight. But me? I was relieved I’d never have to see him again.