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Filthy Rich Vampire Playboys by Gisele St. Claire (1)

Chapter One

 

Serena

 

They call them the FRAP boys. Filthy Rich and Playboys. So far up their own asses they could see daylight. My job? To expose them for the embarrassment they were. I’d been given an exclusive expose for Revealed, the glossy women’s magazine I worked for. Revealed was my life. The magazine focused on the topics women REALLY wanted to know about, like how to please a man in bed, how to land a billionaire, and the secret lives of celebrities and social climbers. There were all those other glossies out there campaigning for women’s rights and debating the most popular current shade of blue for fashion, and that was great. Those things had their place in the world of glossies and I enjoyed reading them on my downtime. But let’s be honest, lots of women just wanted down and dirty gossip and that’s what Revealed was about. Not one member of our editorial team was named. We all worked behind the scenes and signed non-disclosure agreements. It was like being a spy; I adored it.

So from the following Monday, I would be on the staff of the Malibu Dream, a boutique hotel on the oceanfront of Carbon Beach, home of the ultra-rich. Nicknamed ‘Billionaires’ Beach’, Carbon Beach was home to movie and music moguls, art collectors, actors and actresses; and their children, four of which were the FRAP boys. The lowdown was that they liked to hook up with any new females in the area and then compared notes on how they were in bed. They gave all the women a score out of ten. One of those women had contacted the magazine. It was a story too good not to investigate and something that could potentially create a shit storm around those who lived in Carbon Beach.

I looked over the documents I had been sent about each ‘target’ and wrote notes on the main points in my moleskin.

 

Carter Cole

Age 26

Son of Actor Ross Parish and Actress Linda Cannon

Interests: Surfing

Notable information: Has tried to break Hollywood himself several times and failed. Small walk ons as a child.

 

I checked out his photograph.

Carter had sandy-blond hair, chiseled cheeks and a pointed, defined chin. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and I could see why the women of Malibu fell at his feet.

 

Flynn Kelly

Age 25

Son of Art Collector Saxton Welsh - mother Lily Welsh (divorced 2015)

Interests: photography

Notable information: Past long-term girlfriend from 2010-2015, Rose O’Hara (British model)

 

Flynn was blessed with dark brown hair and the bluest eyes. He was tall and slim, and his gaze seemed to pierce through the photograph.

 

Smith Henderson

Age 24

Son of entrepreneur Bill Henderson

Interests: women

Notable information: Mother was a surrogate, identity unknown.

 

Smith was also blond though his was almost platinum. His hair was short and spiked on the top of his head. He kept a dusting of stubble on his chin. On the photograph he had been pictured leaving a club, an arrogant look on his face.

 

Jayden Bryant

Age 27

Son of Movie Producer Felicia Bryant and Business Analyst John Bryant

Interests: parties.

Notable information: Mother was part of reality series set in Malibu and Jayden featured from a young age.

 

Jayden had coffee-colored skin, large chocolate brown eyes and kept his dark hair shaved close to his skull like a shadow. He looked like a bad boy, just like Smith. Those two looked like they'd be a dangerous duo.

 

Well, soon I would see for myself. All I needed to do now was pack ready for my next adventure.

 

***

 

I needed to meet with Leonie, the woman who had approached the magazine to glean as much information from her as I could. Leonie had already signed legal documents to confirm that she wouldn’t reveal either my identity or that she’d even met with us to discuss the article. For that purpose, I met with her in a hotel in Malibu I’d booked just for one evening near to Surfrider Beach.

A knock came to my door. Looking through the spyhole it revealed a nervous looking brunette. It was time to put her out of her misery. I opened the door.

“Hey, you must be Leonie, right? Come in, I’m Serena.” I didn’t give her my surname. She didn’t need it. I gestured through to my living room area. “Take a seat. Would you like a drink at all? Wine, coffee, water?”

Leonie bit her bottom lip. “I’m okay but thank you for asking.”

I tilted my head and raised my right eyebrow in her direction. “You sure? Talking is thirsty work and I’m opening a bottle of wine. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere, yeah?” I laughed, and she gave a nervous giggle in reply. I checked the clock. It was 3:23 pm. If I could get her out of here for 5pm, I could treat myself to a burger somewhere overlooking the surf.

“Okay, I’ll have a glass.” She agreed. “Just a small one.”

Of course, the main reason I wanted her to drink wine was because I wanted to loosen her tongue. I required as much information as possible on these guys. The truth was, I hoped that a top expose might take me up the Revealed food chain, and I was looking for a promotion, a bigger salary and a larger apartment. I lived in Manhattan in a room-share and desperately wanted a place of my own.

Leonie had taken a seat on the couch and so I took the chair adjacent to her. I didn’t want her to feel like she was being interviewed—I wanted her to chat to me like a friend or confidante—so to start with I asked her about where she bought her shoes, moved onto what she did for a job (she was now a housekeeper in Bel Air), and then asked her about life in Malibu.

When I’d first arrived and seen the beach view it had taken my breath away. Stunning views of the Pacific Ocean greeted me, and I couldn’t help but compare it to my city life in New York. These places were worlds apart, well, apart from the fact that billionaires liked to play in both.

When we were on our second glass of wine, I placed my notebook open on my lap, picked up a pen and started asking questions.

“So, let me just go over what it said on my print out and you can add anything else you’d like to at that point. Of course, none of what you tell me is going in my report. I want to reassure you that there is nothing that will connect you to my expose, it just helps me to work out the best way to approach this.”

“Okay.” She answered.

“So, let's take this right back to the beginning. You were working as a masseuse at the Spa in The Malibu Dream and Smith Henderson booked in?

Leonie swallowed before speaking. “Yes. I asked him what he wanted me to concentrate on and he said he was feeling tense around his neck and shoulders.”

“Right. And during this massage, did Smith come on to you in any way?”

“No. He was so lovely and charming and left me a huge tip.”

I wanted to make a quip about his huge tip, but I refrained.

“So then what happened?”

“Next he sent me a bouquet of flowers and the card said thank you and would I like to have a drink with him? Would I like to have a drink with a jaw droppingly good looking rich man? That took me about three seconds of thinking. I called the number he’d left on the card and we arranged a date. He booked a room at the hotel and after we ate, he took me there. It was such a reality check seeing the room he’d paid for. His world was way beyond mine. We had sex and then the next day he just said thank you and I could use the shower, then he left.”

“Bastard.”

Leonie shrugged. “I didn’t see it that way. I wasn’t in his league, I didn't expect to see him again other than maybe at the Spa again. Anyhow, a week or so later I got chatting to a guy down at Surfrider Beach. He had sandy-blond hair, sunkissed skin and the most perfect white teeth. He shouted me a burger and fries and asked me on a date. He told me he usually worked at a restaurant around the corner. I believed him.” She looked at the floor.

“And this was Carter, right? Carter Cole?”

“Yes. He charmed me. The guy was so utterly captivating that when he asked me to sleep with him, I couldn’t resist. He came back with me to my small apartment. When I woke the next day, he'd left, and I didn’t see him again until I saw a newspaper photograph of his family. Carter Cole, son of the famous acting duo Linda and Ross. I used to watch the comedy they were in with my mom when I was growing up.” She took a large slug of wine and I took the opportunity to lean over and refill her glass.

“You’d think I wouldn’t be stupid enough to sleep with two more men, but I like sex and I was here in Malibu hoping to meet a rich husband. I’d be lying to say otherwise.”

“Your honesty is refreshing, and I judge no one on who they sleep with.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” She asked me, then a panicked look crossed her face. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

I waved her off. “It’s fine, we’re chatting. No, I don’t. They haven’t made one that’s right for me yet. My friends say I’m too demanding with my choices and I should settle, but that won't happen any time soon. I’m not where I want to be in life yet. I’m only twenty-five and boyfriends can wait.”

Leonie nodded. “Well, I’m now twenty-nine and still looking.”

“Hey, girl, you’ll find somebody.” I reassured her. “You ought to come to Manhattan. Plenty of rich men to choose from there.”

“I might just do that.” She replied. “I’ve had it with this place.”

“So, the other two. What happened next?”

“I met Jayden at a friend’s party. I knew who he was, and I got completely drunk and went up to one of the guest rooms with him. He dropped me off home afterward.” She licked over her front teeth. "I guess he could have just left me in the room, but he didn't."

“And what about Flynn? How did you meet him?” Out of all the four men, Flynn seemed the least likely to mess her around. He was the one that had managed a steady relationship.

“Huh. I bumped into him on the street and he asked to take my photo.” She shook her head. “I was so naïve. I’ve seen his photos. He’s good. He shares them on social media. I thought, he thinks I’m pretty, he wants to take my picture. We went back to his place. Christ, that place was huge. Well, his parents' place, not his place because every one of the four still live at home. How pathetic.” She finished off glass number three. She was talking freely now, so I didn’t open another bottle.

“So he wants to capture me naked, and well, one thing led to another. We had sex on what was apparently his stepmother’s favorite rug. He filmed it and we watched it back after and fucked a second time. I asked him to delete it and he promised he would. I'd got carried away in the moment and regretted letting him film us. He said he wanted to see me again, and we arranged for me to meet him at a gallery.” Her voice dulled. “I was so excited. I thought he would show my picture.”

“But that didn’t happen?”

“Not like I imagined. I got there, and the gallery was closed. But the doorman welcomed me in and directed me to the studio. When I went in there, I was on the walls all right. Picture after picture of us having sex. I never agreed to that.”

My fingers tightened on the chair. “That is not okay.”

“And there they all were, sat on chairs at the far end of the gallery - Jayden, Flynn, Carter, and Smith. They’d set out a chair for me. It was like an interview.”

I couldn’t imagine being in Leonie’s shoes, but I tried. I tried to picture the humiliation of seeing your body in the throes of passion all over the walls. Yet instead of being horrified by the thought, I was excited. But I knew in the context of her humiliation it was not erotic.

“They told me I’d been an experiment. That they’d wanted to share a woman and see what they thought. But that I wasn’t right for them. That they were sorry they’d messed me around, but I didn’t match them sexually. I wasn’t the right fit. Smith actually said I was a six out of ten for them. That was the final straw. They offered me a check for two thousand dollars. Said they knew I was struggling, and they’d like to help. I felt like a prostitute.”

“So you didn’t take the check?”

“You bet I took the check. Two thousand dollars was a lot of money to me. I used a chunk of it to get me the hell out of Malibu. I’ve been living and working in Bel Air since then, as a housekeeper to a wealthy couple. When they go out I pretend their house is mine. I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”

I reached over and put my hand across hers. “No, you aren’t pathetic. Who could have ever known what those four men’s plans were? It’s not normal behavior for anyone. It appears to me that they are so very rich and pampered that they think they can do what they like. Well, you leave it to me. I’m going to find out exactly what their game is and expose it to our readership.”

Leonie’s eyes looked glassy. “Thank you. I don’t want anyone else to go through what I did—although they probably already have.”

“I’ve got to work out my plan but seeing as I’m new in the area I’m guessing they’ll come to me, rather than me having to accidentally on purpose bump into them.”

“Oh they’ll come find you all right, and then they’ll try to test you. How will you manage that? Surely you won’t sleep with them to get a story?”

“I have my means, don’t you worry.” I told her, and my means were that I’d consider anything I needed to in order to get that story told. Screwing four handsome men to save other women from their pathetic hands? Call it a public service and if orgasms happened, well I’d call that my bonus payment.

“Okay. I have what I need here.” I told Leonie. “And I don’t know about you but all that wine needs mopping up with a real nice burger. Fancy showing me that place you visited down near the beach and then afterward giving me a little guided tour of the area?”

“Sure. I have to travel back around eight, but until then, I’m all yours.”

 

We ate and chatted some more. Leonie was a lovely woman but with deluded stars in her eyes. Her mother hadn’t had a lot of money and had told Leonie to find a rich husband. She said she’d originally thought of trying to find work in the Hollywood Hills but soon realized lots of women had the same idea, so she’d relocated her dreams to Malibu. Now she was trying Bel Air and hoping that a single or divorced friend of the couple she was working for would whisk her away like in a fairytale. In the meantime, I would have placed a bet that she’d missed out on real love, ignoring the genuine men who wanted to date her. Now she was panicking about reaching the dreaded 3-0. She made me glad to be me. I didn’t have 30 hot on my heels, but neither did I feel any pressure to settle down with one man. Why settle for one course when you could have a buffet? By the time Leonie was ready to leave, I was glad. She was a nice woman, and I didn’t want to say anything to her I’d regret. It wasn’t my place to advise her on her life choices.

I shook her hand and reassured her I would make sure every one of those four men felt put on public display, judged and humiliated, just as she had done.

Then I went back to my room and hit the sack ready for an early start the next day when I’d be moving into staff quarters at the hotel. I was sure the room wouldn’t be half as nice as this one, so I snuggled down under the comforter making the most of it. Butterflies flickered around my stomach and I realized I was ridiculously excited about this job. I wondered who I’d meet first? Maybe I'd score them out of ten too and see how they liked it?