Romance: Marriage of Convenience Romance: Billionaire's Inheritance Bride ( Billionaire Bad Boy BBW Romance) (8 page)

Claudio was the first case of a high profile person with mutant abilities, and it was getting hard to hide that fact, especially considering the records he was breaking across the league.

***

The hotel room was small, seedy, and cheap. Not the type of place that some of the NFL’s team owners and backers would normally meet; but this was no normal meeting. It was a plot. Wilfred Samuels was the ringleader. A stout, balding man in his 50s, he sat at a small table, the sweat from the summer heat dripping from his double chin. Several other men in suits sat or stood in the room, waiting with anticipation for Wilfred’s suggestion.

“We need him out of the picture. I’m convinced Claudio Vega is a mutant,” Wilfred said.

Staring out of the window before turning around to face the other men, Cederick Hanlon, tall, gaunt, and an owner of a prestigious team spoke quietly: “There’s no legal precedent which states we have the right to kick him out of the game for being born with certain… Talents.”

A few of the other men nodded and groaned in agreement before Cederick continued: “And we’ll have all manner of civil rights groups campaigning against us for being prejudiced if we try to segregate Claudio and his kind. No, we’re going to have to do something more drastic I’m afraid.”

“All I know is that the bookies are losing a fortune. No one can bet against the Giants because they rarely lose, it’s killing the game and making some of our contacts in organized crime nervous,” replied Wilfred.

“Exactly. Gentlemen, I think we are all in agreement then that we’re going to have to do something about Claudio Vega. Something that will remove him from the game. If it pleases everyone I think I have a plan…”

The room was silent, waiting. When Cederick finally revealed his plan, everyone, Wilfred included, was quite, quite pleased.

***

Suzanne Curtis had bad luck. Ask anyone who knew her, they’d tell you just as much, and right now was about the worst run of luck she’d ever had. Her dad was a drunk, or rather, had been a drunk. He’d died in a house fire of his own accidental making when Suzanne was just six years old. With her mother also gone, she was left to move from foster home to foster home. The cards were stacked against her from the very beginning.

It was quite an achievement then that she’d managed to retain a warm heart despite how cold and bitter the world had been to her so far. At just 19 years old she’d seen and done a lot, not all of it healthy, but she was the type of person who always looked out for those around her. If she was walking down a street and saw a homeless man or woman in a bad way, she’d offer up her last dollar, even if it meant she wouldn’t eat that night.

That was just who she was. Perhaps her father had been kind, or her mother, but it was anyone’s guess how someone so hard done by could retain a positive outlook. Yet Suzanne had that. She was selfless, and if there was any selfishness in her, it was only for one thing - how she dreamed of being loved, of being held, of being comforted and told that
everything was going to be okay
…

She tried to tell herself that as she walked down First Avenue.
Everything is going to be okay, Suzanne. You just wait and see.

Without a dime in her pocket and not eating anything for two days, she had to give in. Prostitution was now her only recourse. Things were getting desperate, and in a city that didn’t look down on the homeless too kindly, it was only a matter of time before someone took advantage. A pimp by the name of Max had seen her walking around the streets. He said he’d get her money, food and a place to crash after she bagged her first client. All she had to do was walk around until she was approached, do the deed and then hand the cash to Max.

She felt sick even thinking about it, but what else could she do? Society had failed her and the only thing she felt she had left of any value was her body. Now the world wanted that too.

“Want to make some money?” the voice had said from a darkened doorway.

Suzanne would have normally walked on by, but not on that day, not with the hunger that felt like it was eating a hole in her stomach. Today she’d take any ray of hope as long as it led to food and shelter. She stopped and looked at the doorway. A man in a well-pressed suit was standing there, his hair slicked back and his eyes covered by sunglasses.

“I said, do you want to make some money, kid?”

“Sure…” the words just came out of her mouth. She wasn’t
sure
. “What is it and how much?”

With a cute smile, tanned skin and blond hair most women would kill for, it wasn’t the first time she’d been propositioned; but this was her moment of weakness.

“It’s nothing bad, just a little bit of fun. If you can handle it,” the man said.

“Yeah…. Okay”.

“There’s an alley around the back from here. You game?” The man grinned, and while his eyes were obscured, his voice sounded gentle. “In fact, it’s a little wet out here and I’d hate for you to catch a cold, Honey. Listen…. I’m staying in a hotel room around the corner…”

“No,” Suzanne said. “If it happens anywhere, it happens here.”

“As you wish.” The man started walking alongside Suzanne to the rear of the building.

Suddenly a car screeched to halt next to them. Before she knew what was happening, Suzanne felt a cloth over her mouth. It was dowsed in some sort of chemical. What, she didn’t know. Then, the lights started to go out and she was bundled into the back of the car.             

She tried to scream, but as she inhaled what was on the cloth, she quickly lost consciousness and wouldn’t wake for another three hours. In that time, her world would take a strange turn for both the better and worse.

***

Claudio was in his kitchen, making a sandwich for lunch. Just as he was getting ready to sit down and enjoy it, the phone rang.

“Claudio Vega?” The voice had said.

“Yes?” Claudio responded.

“Listen carefully. We know that you are a mutant. It gives you an unfair advantage against the other footballers.”

Claudio was frozen to the spot with shock.

The voice continued: “If you do not meet us at the Anvil Hotel in the West side of the city by 5PM, we will go to the newspapers with photographic evidence.”

“What…” Claudio didn’t know what to say.

“We can make this all go away with a little financial persuasion. Meet us at the hotel and we will discuss the arrangements. Ask for the room booked under Vega at the desk, room 237. Come alone, any sight of anyone else and we’re done”

The black mailer hung up, and Claudio was terrified. They were onto him. Finally after all this time, someone in the game knew he was a mutant. Sure, he could move faster than most, but when wearing his football jersey and pants, there was no way someone could tell his legs were changing underneath. Someone had found out and obtained pictures somehow, at least, that’s what they claimed. Regardless, he couldn’t let his secret out, not yet. He was proud to be a mutant, but there was too much to risk by revealing it. He was pretty sure plenty would say he was cheating, but all he wanted was to enjoy his career and make his family proud. He could not risk what he had going for himself and had to take this meeting.

***

He sensed something was wrong when he entered the hotel. It was difficult for Claudio to go anywhere without being recognized, but the hotel staff, and in particular a scrawny guy in his 40s behind the reception desk, seemed to be actively trying
not
to recognize him. At least that was the impression they gave. Almost as if they were acting, knowing who he was but pretending not to.

The instructions had been clear - collect a key to room 237 from the desk, then head up alone to the room. If Claudio brought anyone with him, then there would be trouble, and if Claudio wanted this to all go away then he’d better follow the instructions to the letter. That was true, the blackmailers seemed to know: Claudio wanted more than anything for this to go away. He’d brought great pride to his family, and that was more important than anything else.

Claudio just didn’t know how his father would respond to the news, whether he’d think Claudio a freak, or whether he would be bitterly disappointed that Claudio had made so many touchdowns with the advantages his condition gave him; some sort of Darwinian cheat.

His footsteps creaked in the hallway as he finally reached room 237. Looking around he could see no one. Anxiously putting the key in the lock, he turned it, opened the door and then cautiously stepped inside.

“Hello?” Claudio said quietly at first. “Hello?” This time he was more assured.

He walked into the room and was horrified by what he saw. A young woman, no more than twenty years old was lying naked and unconscious on a worn double bed. Her face was covered in a white powder, no doubt cocaine; and other drug paraphernalia - including needles - were scattered around the place haphazardly. Claudio was immediately concerned about the woman and stepped forward to see if she needed CPR.

That was when he felt it.

A pinprick shot into his arm. He looked down. Some kind of dart stuck out of his skin. The pain soon turned to ice cold numbness as it climbed up his body. As the room began to spin, he was aware for a second as though someone else was in the place, nearby. He thought he saw someone in a suit appear from behind a curtain. Then the room went black, and Claudio Vega’s life would never be the same.

***

Claudio opened his eyes to the light streaming through the blinds. It took him a moment to get his bearing, but when he finally shook the foggy feeling, he was left horrified. He was still in the same dingy hotel room, but the man from behind the curtain was gone. Claudio looked down at his body lying on the bed, and nearly died of shock.

He was completely naked.

Looking to his right the girl who’d been lying on the bed unconscious was still there - still unconscious. Her nose was still smeared in cocaine, as was the bed, and when Claudio touched his own face he could feel the unmistakable texture of a powder.

Panic began to set in. He knew this was bad - really bad. First, people threatened him with, and now he was in what looked like a drug binge with a woman… He looked at her again, noticing this time the thick makeup plastered on her face, thick fake eyelashes protruding and a dark eye shadow.

She must be a hooker, he thought!

That was when the enormity of it all struck him. This was a setup and a pretty elaborate one. He was a 100% certain that someone had taken pictures of him in this state, and that that would end his career with the NFL. More than that, the shame this would bring to his family would be unbearable.

The girl groaned, and quickly Claudio realized that he needed to get out of there, but he couldn’t just leave the hooker like that, maybe she needed medical attention. He didn’t know.

She groaned again, this time opening her eyes slowly. To say she screamed would be an understatement. After seeing Claudio, as naked as the day he was born standing in front of her smeared in cocaine, survival had kicked in and she started yelling for help.

“Please, no, Miss!” Claudio was caught between pleading with the prostitute to stop screaming and trying to cover up his privates with a pillow. “I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t know how I got here.”

“You’re… You’re Claudio Vega?” the hooker said, hesitating.

“No, my name is… Mario…” Claudio was never that great of a liar. “Please, just don’t scream, I’ll help you get out of here safely. What’s your name?”

“Suzanne.” She had indeed stopped screaming.

“Well, Suzanne, why did they do this?”

“You think I know! One minute I was asked up here for a photo shoot and the next thing I know I wake up next to you covered in drugs!”

Claudio wasn’t sure if he believed the hooker, but he didn’t want to wait around to find out if she was being truthful or not. Any minute now the hotel could be swarming with journalists and photographers. He just couldn’t take the risk.

“Okay, Suzanne. What we need to do is get dressed and get the hell out of this hotel,” said Claudio as he pulled on his jeans.

Suzanne wrapped the bedclothes around her to cover up her body. “Could you hand me my clothes, please?”

Claudio did as she asked, and as he did so he noticed something. She was beautiful. Beneath the garish makeup, lipstick and eyelashes, there was something about her. He quickly shook the thought from his head and focused on the dangers at hand.

“Suzanne… I can’t be seen with a hooker, so when we get to the fire exit and get out of here, we’ll both need to go our separate ways.”

Suzanne looked at Claudio angrily. “You think I’m a hooker?”

“Well…” Claudio was a bit lost for words.

“Well what?”

“The way you’re dressed. You look like…” Claudio suddenly realized he was being rude.