By the time the limo drives through the Upper East Side, the rain has already started to fade back into a soft drizzle.

“And there she is,” I whisper to myself as the limo slows down, halting in front of Daphne's’ apartment building. She’s standing under the doorway, a midnight black dress clinging to her skin like an old lover, the hemline stopping just shy of her knees.

“I got this,” I tell the driver through the intercom as I grab my umbrella and step out of the limo. I walk toward Daphne, my heart suddenly racing inside my chest, and she steps under the open umbrella.

“Like a true gentleman,” she says, lacing her arm in mine. My skin prickles as I feel her touch, but I keep poised and in control.

“Of course.” I walk her back to the limo and then stand aside as she takes her seat; I follow one second after, and not much later than that we’re rolling down the busy streets of New York.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Masa,” I reply, suddenly realizing that I’m hoping my choice has impressed her. Masa is one of the most expensive restaurants in New York City and, at the same time, one of the hardest places to secure a reservation in. Especially when one tries to make a same day reservation, but of course, it’s not like they would turn me down. Being a billionaire has its privileges.

“Masa? You managed to get a reservation at Masa?” She looks at me, one eyebrow arched; although I can tell she’s somewhat impressed, it doesn’t look like I’ve swept her off her feet. But that’s to be expected; Daphne is CEO of one of the biggest companies in the States; a $2,000 dinner bill won’t even have her batting an eye.

“I did. We can go anywhere else, though.”

“No, Masa’s fine. I know the chef,” she says, flashing me one mischievous smile that seems to say displays of wealth won’t impress me. No, this isn’t the kind of woman to be dazzled by money. And you know what? That’s part of what drew me to Daphne in the first place; she’s the kind of woman that won’t allow herself to be tamed, and she’ll look any man in the eye as her equal.

“Have you considered my proposal?” I ask her, changing gears and focusing on business, after all, this is a business dinner. Or, at least, that’s the lie I’m trying to tell myself. Just play along, alright? It’s not like I’m going to fuck up a business opportunity just so I can get into her pants.

“Proposal? We haven’t even discussed numbers, Lucas. Don’t think I’ll hand you Union Airlines on a silver platter.”

“No, not at all. But you have to agree; my methods are the best fit for Union Airlines.”

“I know nothing of your methods. You talk a good talk,” she lowers her voice, the corners of her mouth curling upward into a grin, “but that’s not enough. I’ve gotta see it to believe it.”

Looking into her smart eyes, I forget where I am for a few seconds. I just gaze at her, taking in the smooth lines of her face and, before I know it, my eyes have already wandered down to her cleavage. Fuck! I snap my eyes back to hers and she grins at me, more teasingly than I expected.

“My methods,” I finally say, my brain somehow remembering to start working again, “never disappoint, Daphne.”

“That’s good,” she leans back against her seat, turning around so that she’s facing me, and crosses her legs. “I don’t like to be disappointed.” I hold my breath as the hemline of her dress hikes up a few inches, baring more of her naked skin, and I feel warm blood rushing toward my cock.

“I have what it takes,” I tell her, but I don’t even know why I chose those words. They just flew out of my mouth before I could even think of anything smarter to say.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” Her grin widens, and my eyes start to burn as I feel the magnetic attraction of the round swell of her breasts. Their curves under the fabric of her dress seem to call to me, and I feel my fingers twitching as the sudden urge to just reach for them and squeeze hard seems to overtake me. I have no idea what it is about her, but it’s driving me mad.

“I can prove it,” I whisper, lowering my voice until it becomes just a whisper. I feel my heartbeat against my eardrums, my veins burning as boiling blood makes my muscles tense and my cock harden up.

“Then prove it,” she smiles, uncrossing her legs and allowing me a brief glimpse of her inner thighs. My cock becomes as hard as a steel rod in a heartbeat and, whatever hint of rational thought still lived inside of me is now long gone.

She wants me to take charge. She’s enticing me, trying to see how far I’ll go, tempting me to lose all control. And if that’s what she wants, that’s what she’ll get.

I move across the seat, pressing my leg against hers, and look straight into her eyes.

“You wanted a number? How does one trillion dollars sound?” The words feel like molten lead on my tongue, burning its way out of my mouth, but I don’t care. One trillion dollars would make this the biggest acquisition of all time. Getting enough liquidity to complete a transaction like this seems almost impossible, but right now, I recognize no limitations. Because, truth be told, I have none.

“It sounds delicious,” she whispers, running her tongue between her lips, her eyes never leaving mine. “But I gotta wonder… Are you thinking with this…?” She taps two fingers softly on my forehead, and then her fingertips trail down to my neck and chest, making a straight line over my stomach. “Or with this?” she breathes out, taking her hand over my belt and curling her fingers around the hard shape hiding under my pants.

I give her the only answer I can.

“Does it even matter?”