My Bad Boy Werewolf Quadrillionaire Space Lord

And Secrets Revealed

And with a massive fart, Luca disappeared.

No idea where he went, no idea when he'd be back, or even if he'd return. He just popped a portal with less hesitation than a virgin on his wedding night, or hers frankly. But this left Alcuard and I stranded on a warm summer's night in Paris with nothing to our names.

Except the three billion dollars under his name, obviously. Of which he had already promised me a cut.

And yes, I know being stuck in Paris on a warm summer's night with an unnaturally hot creature of the night is a painful collection of bad cliches, but at the time neither of us cared. As silly a belief as it was, I already thought of Luca as a friend. A friend I'd totally sleep with, marry, divorce, and ride off into the void with his money vault yacht.

But still a friend. And if you're going to abandon a friend in need, it had damn well better be because there's a shitload of money involved and you don't want to share. Pirate's have principles, after all. We're not hedge fund managers.

Also, pirate code dictates that hedge fund managers are either ransomed for the manager's personal fortune only, or dropped out an airlock.

So as soon as Luca disappeared, I took immediate and decisive action. Or at least attempted to find out what serious and decisive action would look like. "What do we do?" I asked, and I didn't at all sound desperate and whiny. "Alcuard, what do we do?"

"Give me your phone," Alcuard pointed at the woman with the tablet, who jumped at the tone of authority in his voice. She jumped so high, she cracked a heel and nearly fell over. She cursed, but drew her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it.

Alcuard took a moment to look up something quickly, then dialled a number and set the phone on speaker and set it on a nearby table. "Who did you call?" I asked.

"The Cardego Corporation. If I can get to Viviana, she can tell us what set Luca off," Alcuard explained.

"This bank isn't exactly friendly with Cadego," the woman at the counter scathed as she sneered in contempt. "And there's nothing a company is better at than wasting your time. Corporate bureaucracy is impenetrable."

"Pretty sure Luca would have her panties off in less time than it took to say 'I'd like to invest'," Isabella said.

"Yes, well, you aren't Luca Cardego, are you?"

"Welcome! You have reached the Cardego Corporation. Our caller ID has logged you as an employee of Contemptible Scumbags Incorporated," a voice on the phone said in that fake cheerfulness of an obviously automated voice. "Our next available agent will be available shortly after the heat death of the universe."

"Contemptible Scumbags Incorporated?" I asked with a smirk, as the phone began playing some sort of classical music.

"That's not actually our name," the woman sighed, and rested a hand on her head. "Luca just paid the corporate registrar in Paris a billion dollars to have that set as our legal name, and we haven't been able to change it."

"So your company is literally called 'Contemptible Scumbags'?" I asked, with a snicker and a short bark of a laugh that was very quickly followed by a lot more laughing.

"No!" the woman exclaimed indignantly. But in a quieter, defeated voice, added, "Just legally."

"It suits them," Alcuard agreed, "But how do we get through the corporate bureaucracy and Luca's sense of humour to reach Viviana?"

I thought for a moment, and thankfully an idea popped into my head before the silence got awkward. "Someone's probably listening on the line, so let's talk about how a platinum bikini is currently being made by a factory staffed exclusively by orphaned children."