My Bet: The Stone Brothers, #3

By Rachel Foster

Caleb Stone's life is partying, fast cars, and even faster women. He's the king of Miami. Precisely the kind of man I avoid and who is oblivious to good girls like me. Yet when he comes to my rescue and asks for my help, I can't turn him away. Not even when our professional relationship crosses the line into very personal. All the things telling me it's wrong morph into reasons it's right. But a man like Caleb always has a hidden agenda. And his won't just break my heart. It could take my life. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: 3rd Publishing
• Release date: Mar 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215063064

Book preview

My Bet

Rachel Foster

Copyright © 2018 by Rachel Foster

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

My Bet

My Bet

1

C

aleb

I let the engine of my Lambo idle for a moment before turning it off. I liked the attention I got from driving such a nice car, and pulling up to the club was one of the best ways to show it off. People who were lined up on the sidewalk waiting to get in always stared, and I made a show of getting out of the vehicle and heading toward the front door every night.

I was known at every club in Miami. I frequented all the high-end venues, and always got right in. There was no need to wait in line when you came from the family I came from. The Stones were known all over the world, but especially across the United States.

We were upper class, we ruled the roost, and we knew it. I was one of eight brothers, and our father was the king of the world we ran in. My mother had passed when I was a baby – she died in childbirth, in fact – so I didn’t know what it was like to have a mother in my life.

But, my father taught me to not need one, and I would forever be grateful to him for that. He gave me everything, teaching me to take anything I wanted along the way. I had the right to take anything from anyone and to use any means necessary to get it.

I had been elated when he gave me control over our business in Miami at the young age of twenty-two, and now, five years later, I felt like I was running my own empire.

Evening, I said to the bouncer. He didn’t bother checking my ID to see if I was who I claimed to be. I had been at the club enough, he merely stepped aside and let me enter. I didn’t stop to bother with those in line who bitched about the unfairness of it all. If they wanted to just walk into the club whenever they felt like it, then they should learn how to make money.

Caleb! It’s about time you got here! Boys! Caleb’s here! Richie, a client of mine and one of the few people I would consider a friend, called out to the rest of the men sitting in the VIP area. It was roped off from the rest of the public, giving us all the privacy in the world.

Of course, I came tonight, I said, giving him a brief bro hug. I told you I was going to be at the best club in town.

But, it’s not always easy to know which one that is, he said with a laugh. Glad we chose the right one. Come, we have more drinks and blow than you could ever hope to have at one table!

I sat in the middle of the group, taking what I considered to be the best chair in the room. I was in the center of the action, taking in the conversation from both sides. Nothing got past me, and that’s how I liked it. I wanted to be in the middle of everything, to know what was going on. I hated to be out of the loop, so I constantly refused to let that happen.

I threw back a few shots before doing a line of the blow already cut on the table, then I sat back to enjoy the women and listen to Richie boast about the latest stint he’d pulled off.

He was part of the cartel and my number one client when it came to trafficking their drugs and money through Miami. Being the hot spot that it was, I preferred handling the drugs over anything else. I got the most pay for my time that way. But, most of the time, he wanted to use me for laundering their money into one of our many accounts.

It was easy enough work. I just had to be careful not to do anything that would catch the attention of the feds. As long as I kept them at bay, I was free to do anything I wished – and make money while doing it.

The entire family worked with the cartel and the mafia frequently. We were some of the largest money laundering operators in the world, and though most everyone knew it, we were good enough at what we did that we never got caught. Anyone who came too close was quickly taken care of, so we were free to continue with our empire without being bothered.

I joked with the boys about the women who were dancing on the floor, though we all had our eyes open for those we might be able to take home with us. We all targeted the easy ones, though I would take it a step further and look for the women who clearly weren’t going to throw a fit when I kicked them out the next morning.

I had no interest in a relationship, but I did enjoy good sex. And, what better place to pick up someone for easy sex than at a club like this? I asked myself. There were more women than men, and with the money I had to flaunt, it wasn’t hard to get any of them to come home with me.

Not that I ever treated them to anything more than a drink here and there. But, they didn’t know that when they got in the car to head back to my mansion.

You know, Richie said after a few moments of silence. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.

About what? I asked, sipping my drink. I was feeling good. The drug had hit my system, and the alcohol was taking effect, as well. I was starting to crave a cigar, and I knew it wasn’t going to be long before I found a woman either to take home with me, or to sneak into the bathroom for some dirty sex.

About the raised fees, he said. We’ve been working together for a long time. I think you should really consider waiving the new fee for your old friend Richie. What do you say?

I groaned. You know I don’t like talking about business when we’re out on the town.

I know, but you can be a hard man to get a hold of when you aren’t here. I thought it might just be a quick conversation in which you tell me you aren’t going to be charging us the new fee, and we could shake on it and move on with the night, he grinned.

My dad is the one who takes care of all that shit, I said, finishing my drink.

But, you are the one who enforces it. You know, with all the money we have going through the banks down there, he’s not going to notice if you waive it for us, he pressed.

We’ll talk about it next week, I said, brushing him off. I’m going to smoke.

Care if I join?

If you must, I said.

A small group of us headed for the roof of the club to smoke cigars and check out the women down below, the conversation once more turning back to the events of the night. I knew I wasn’t going to change the fee for Richie, but I wasn’t in the mood to have that conversation in the club.

Look at her! he pointed down below with a laugh. It’s that girl with the pamphlets again!

I leaned over the edge of the roof to see the same girl I’d seen at various other clubs. What the fuck is she even doing?

She works for some rehab place or something, one of the men said, lighting up his cigar before handing me the lighter. She stands outside and tries to convert people.

Wow, I shook my head. That’s...something.

She looks so innocent, Richie said with another laugh. She certainly doesn’t fit in around here.

I doubt she is, I replied. She’s probably just as much a freak as the rest of the women in this place.

I bet not, he said. I’ve tried to hit on her before. She always shuts it down before it gets anywhere.

Are you sure that’s not because you’re ugly? I smirked, and he flipped me off.

If you’re so hot, then why don’t you sleep with her? he challenged.

I could if I wanted to, I said with a shrug. I’m just not sure I do.

Come on, he said. I bet you’re afraid I’m right and she’s just going to blow you off, too.

I’m not, I said. I could get any woman I wanted.

Then, do her, he pressed.

What’s in it for me?

One million dollars, he said. If you can get that girl in bed with you, I will pay you one million dollars. When you see I’m right... Well, you owe me.

I thought about it for a moment. It seemed like a stupid bet, but I had a reputation to uphold, and with Richie challenging me in front of all the other boys, I felt backed into a corner. It wasn’t exactly what I cared to do, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

Alright, I said, holding out my hand. Deal.

He smirked. I’m a million dollars richer.

2

P

resley

If you can’t afford it, we are more than happy to provide free resources for you! I smiled, but was only met with dirty looks from those who were in line to get into the club.

Get out of here! someone shouted.

You don’t belong here! another chimed in.

We don’t have a problem; you have a problem for judging us! a third yelled from somewhere near the front.

I don’t judge anyone! I called out. I’m just here to offer any help I can to those in need!

We aren’t in need! came the rude reply.

I sighed. It wasn’t uncommon for me to get cussed out or yelled at when I volunteered my time on a Friday or Saturday night. I tried to do it often, showing up outside various clubs in Miami and handing out pamphlets for the treatment center where I worked.

I could understand why some would think I was judging them, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. The last thing I did was judge anyone. I wanted to help. I understood what it was like to be trapped in the lifestyle they were living because my parents were both drug addicts and alcoholics.

I’d grown up with violence in the home, and eventually, had been thrown into the system at the age of ten. I’d grown up in foster home after foster home and had often been abused – both physically and mentally.

I worried about the other children in the world. I worried they were being raised by parents who were out here at the club getting wasted and high every weekend. I didn’t want them to have the same fate I did. And, if there was just one child I could save by getting someone else clean, then I felt that my job was done well.

Even more than that, I wanted to help the people who were doing this to themselves. I had watched my parents waste away with their substance abuse, and it killed me. I hated to see my mother put needles in her arm or my dad take lines off the table. I hated to see them empty bottle after bottle of booze, often leaving the empties around the house for me to clean up.

I had no friends when I was a kid, and I had few friends now. I threw my life into my work, wanting only to help anyone in need and willing. I knew I couldn’t do anything to force anyone to see things from my point of view, but I could do my best to give them the help they needed.

Or at the very least, try.

Hello, Sir, can I give you this pamphlet? I asked, holding out the paper to a man in line.

Get away from me you freak! he snapped.

Miss? I turned to the woman behind him, but she buried her face in her phone and ignored me. I sighed. This was tedious work, and it was rare for me to even hand out any pamphlets to anyone. But, it didn’t stop me from standing outside night after night.

Some clubs were more receptive than others, and I generally had good luck at this one. But, tonight, the crowd seemed far more hostile than normal, and they didn’t want anything to do with me or my cause.

I didn’t mind it so much, but it was hard when they started calling me names and refusing to even give me the time of day. I just wanted to help, after all.

Excuse me, I turned, hoping that I had finally gotten the attention of someone who wanted some help. I was more than willing to talk with anyone who was in need, and even one person would make my night feel that much more accomplished.

Yes? I asked, but my face fell when I turned and found one of the bouncers behind me.

You’re going to have to take that elsewhere, he said. You’re harassing the guests, and it’s bad for business.

I’m not harassing anyone, I said. And, it’s my right to be here doing what I want.

It’s not your right when you are on company property, he said. Now, I need you to leave before I call the police.

For what? I cried, I’m just trying to help some people by handing out a few pamphlets – how is that worth calling the police?

Miss, you have to leave, now! he snapped. He was much larger than me, and with the way he yelled, I knew he meant business. I hoped he wasn’t the sort of man who would put his hands on a woman, but with the way he started toward me, I was sure he wasn’t going to hold back if I didn’t do what he said.

I didn’t want to get arrested. That was one of the worst things to happen to anyone who worked at the rehab facility. We often dealt with men and women who were coming out of jail, and it would be terrible for one of them to see any of the staff members down at the booking themselves.

Wait! Another voice cut through the air, and both of us