Bound By The Billionaire’s Deal

Valerie’s POV

Gavin cut the engine of his black Camry, parking along the crowded curb of a sprawling, multi-million-dollar estate in Lincoln Park. Even through the rolled-up windows and the hum of the air conditioning, the low, thumping bass of a live DJ hit the car like a subtle pulse.

I popped open my compact mirror, tilting my head under the vanity light.

“Off-shoulder red dress is a killer babe,” Gavin murmured, leaning over the center console to press a light kiss against my collarbone. His thumb caught a stray lock of my hair, tugging it gently. “Up or down? Honestly, Val, you look hot as balls either way. You’re going to turn every head in there.”

“I’m just trying not to look like I put in four hours of effort for a party full of twenty-something trust-fund babies,” I muttered, adjusting my eyeliner with practiced precision. “Does Peter even remember my name, or am I just ‘Gavin’s corporate girlfriend’ to him?”

“Peter loves you,” Gavin laughed, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket. “He’s just stoney as shit most of the time. Hang on, I’ll text him to walk us past the bouncers at the gate. The line outside looks like a damn club entrance.”

Before Gavin could even tap out the message, the massive wrought-iron front gates swung open. A tall, blonde guy in a crumpled linen shirt stumbled out onto the driveway, holding a glass of scotch in one hand and half a joint in the other. He looked glazed, smelling like top-shelf bourbon and loud weed from three feet away.

“G-Man!” Peter hollered, spoting Gavin through the windshield. He dragged himself over to the passenger side, slapping his palm against my window with a loud thump. “Get your ass out here!”

I killed the vanity light, tucked my lipstick into my clutch, and stepped out onto the cool pavement. The night air reeked of expensive cologne and summer humidity.

“Valerie, my girl!” Peter threw his free arm around my neck, pulling me into a suffocating, weed-scented hug that nearly took out my hoop earrings. “Look at you! Absolute smokeshow. I told Gavin he’s kicking way above his coverage with you.”

“Coverage isn't a word, Peter, but happy birthday,” I choked out, laughing as I wriggled out of his grip. “Are you already drunk? It’s barely nine o’clock.”

“It’s my twenty-fifth, baby, time doesn't exist!” Peter declared, slinging his arms over both our shoulders like an overly affectionate golden retriever and steering us past two towering, stone-faced security guards at the entrance. “No sober people allowed in my house tonight. You guys need drinks immediately.”

The front door opened into a grand, double-height marble foyer that looked less like a residential home and more like a high-end Vegas lounge. Custom neon signs blared from the walls, colored strobe lights bounced off mahogany paneling, and a private DJ booth was set up near the sweeping spiral staircase, blasting heavy house music into the crowded living space.

Peter clapped his hands together, swaying slightly to the bass. “Alright! Gavin, I need you in the back lounge right now. The guys from the firm brought a bottle of thirty-year Japanese whiskey, and we’re taking shots.”

Peter paused, glancing at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. “Val, do you mind if I borrow your man for five minutes? I swear I’ll return him in one piece.”

“Go ahead,” I smiled, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m not going to ruin your birthday boys' club time. Go drink your expensive poison.”

“You’re the best,” Gavin said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Stay right here? Or grab a drink at the main bar. I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go.”

I watched them disappear into the sea of moving bodies toward the back patio. Left alone near the staircase, I smoothed down the front of my red dress, taking a second to look around the crowded room. I didn't know half these people, most were Gavin’s old college fraternity brothers or Peter’s high-society circle.

Then, across the marble floor, near a massive indoor fountain, a tall girl with honey-blonde highlights and six-inch platform heels caught my eye. She was wearing an impossibly tight black leather jumpsuit, holding a martini glass, and looking thoroughly unamused by a guy trying to talk to her.

My jaw practically hit the floor.

“Maya?!” I yelled over the music.

The girl whipped her head around. Her eyes went wide as saucers, her mouth dropping open. “Valerie?! What the actual fuck?!”

We practically sprinted across the foyer, dodging a tray of champagne flutes, and slammed into each other in a chaotic hug.

“What are you doing here?!” I screamed, pulling back to inspect her outfit. “You told me you were staying in tonight to eat takeout and binge watch your favorite series!”

“I was!” Maya shrieked, clutching my arm. “I was literally in sweatpants three hours ago! How are you here? This isn't your usual crowd!”

“Gavin’s childhood bestie is the birthday boy,” I explained, gesturing toward the back patio. “Peter. The one who owns three crypto firms and still lives off his dad’s black card. What’s your excuse?”

Maya groaned, rolling her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck in her head. She took a heavy sip of her martini. “I got bored. And... okay, don't judge me, but I answered a text.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, a slow, scheming grin spreading across my face. “No. Way. Is Mr. 5’5 here?”

“Shut up!” Maya hissed, slapping my shoulder, though her face flushed bright red. “Do not call him that out loud! He’s five-foot-seven in his Air Forces, okay?!”

“Girl, you literally told me on Tuesday that he looks like a pocket-sized middle school vice principal and that you were cutting him off!” I cackled, clutching my stomach. “You said he was a hard pass!”

“I was weak!” Maya defended herself, though she couldn't hide her laugh. “He said his friend was throwing a party in Lincoln Park! Plus... look, you know what I said about his situation down there.”

I snorted out loud, covering my mouth. “Right. The anomaly. The five-foot-five miracle.”

“Exactly!” Maya winked, nudging me with her hip. “A girl has needs, Val. Don't judge my charity work.”

“Hey, no judgment here,” I raised my hands in mock surrender. “If the dick is good, the height is just a suggestion.”

Maya burst out laughing, grabbing my wrist. “Come on. I need another drink, and Mr. 5’5 told me there’s a VIP bar up on the rooftop pool deck serving custom tequila infusions. He said it’s way less chaotic up there.”

“A rooftop pool bar? Damn, okay,” I said, smoothing my dress. “Lead the way. I need something strong enough to make small talk with Gavin’s frat bros later.”

We cut through the main living room and headed up the grand marble staircase, leaving the loud house music pulsing below us. The second floor was much quieter, lined with long, carpeted hallways and closed doors leading to guest suites and private lounges. Dim, warm lighting glowed along the baseboards, giving the corridor a sleek, moody vibe.

Halfway down the hall, Maya suddenly pulled up short, grabbing her lower stomach.

“Oh, wait,” she muttered, wincing slightly. “All that tequila from earlier is hitting my bladder. I need a bathroom right now or I’m going to ruin these leather pants.”

“There’s gotta be a guest bath up here,” I said, scanning the hallway.

A few feet ahead, one of the heavy double doors at the end of the hall was sitting slightly ajar, warm light spilling out onto the dark hardwood floor.

“That looks like a master suite or a powder room,” Maya whispered, pulling me along by the arm. “Let’s just sneak in real quick. If anyone’s in there, we’ll claim we got lost on the way to the roof.”

We stepped silently toward the door. Maya reached out, pushing it open another inch—

And both of us froze dead in our tracks.

The sound of the hallway carpet under our shoes vanished, replaced instantly by the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin and a low, breathless moan echoing off the suite’s high ceilings.

“Fuck, baby... yeah, right there... hit it harder, ughhh...”

I blinked, my brain momentarily failing to process the sight in front of me.

In the center of the lavish bedroom, illuminated by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, a man had a girl pushed up against the edge of a velvet king-sized bed. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her back arched, her hands buried deep in his dark hair as he drove into her in a frantic, sloppy quickie.

The man’s jacket was tossed onto the floor. His white shirt was unbuttoned, pulled down at the shoulders.

My heart didn't just stop, it felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed it until it burst. I knew those shoulders. I knew the silver watch glinting on his left wrist under the lamplight. I knew the little crease that appeared beside his mouth when he was trying not to make a sound during sex.

“...Gavin?”

The word ripped out of my throat, raw and barely audible over the sound of their heavy breathing.

Instantly, the movement on the bed ground to a violent halt.

Gavin’s head whipped toward the door, his eyes wide with absolute, blind panic. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his chest heaving as he froze mid-stroke.

The girl beneath him let out a soft, irritated gasp, slowly shifting her head over Gavin’s shoulder to see who had interrupted them. Her long, platinum-blonde hair fell back, exposing her flushed face, smeared red lipstick, and smug, bedroom eyes.

My blood turned to pure, sub-zero ice. The room started spinning so fast I had to grab the doorframe just to stay upright.

“What the fuck... Chloe?”