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Massimo
TWO AND A HALF MONTHS BEFORE DANTE AND JULIET’S WEDDING DISASTER. . .
“Darling,why don’t we go for a nice drive today? The sun is out and it’s such a beautiful winter day. It’s the perfect time to take your McLarenthrough Tuscany. Let’s go to Siena,” Lia says, rolling over and taking the sheet and plush microsuede blanket with her to face me.
Her enthusiasm is enticing, almost tempting.
“Lia, you know I don’t have time,” I growl, throwing back the duvet that lays over the bed. This linen duvet with green and white paisley print was suggested by a designer to go with the eggshell painted walls.
Supposedly, everything goes with the neutral colors, except Lia. Don’t get me wrong. She’s attractive, with long, dark, silky hair but there’s something behind her cold eyes that has me sleeping with one eye open.
The way she’s always trying to take up more of my time, I find it off-putting. It’s no secret she has worked the jet-set circuit for years, looking desperately for a sugar daddy. If I cared more for myself, I wouldn’t touch her. Instead, I compromise and make sure I always use a condom when I fuck her.
Rumor has it her family had money until their accountant embezzled most of it. With that bit of misfortune, it’s no wonder she has to leech off of people in order to travel in the same circle as her friends. I never should have hooked up with her, but a lonely night of drinking left my guard down. She’s easy on the eyes, but everything else about her is work.
I stand and walk buck naked towards the shower, one of the many renovations I’ve done to the house. I want to keep as much of the original house as possible. However, the bathroom is where I draw the line, opting for the most expensive modern faucets, cabinets, and tiles that exist on the market.
I could invite her to shower with me, but I don’t. Poor girl has no clue I’m not the nicest of guys around, and we have no future.
She, of all people, should know that most women come with an expiration date, a date that rolls around quicker than the stamp on a carton of fresh milk. They are for my amusement and only when I want it.
I step into the tepid water and the shower head releases water like rainfall over my head. I drown Lia out as I lean into the water and wash my thick hair with scented products. Thankfully, I’m not going bald in my twenties like my dad.
As I stare at the marble walls around me, the drive to Siena sounds inviting. I love fresh country air. I imagine wood burning in fireplaces and back yards as I drive through the smaller towns in Tuscany. I would have to go alone if I want to relax. However, reality kicks in by the time I grab my towel to dry off.
Unfortunately, I can’t take today off. I have to make a trip down to Florence. Tommaso has stuff for me to do and I need to secretly swing by my office to get some work done. It’s not easy being me, but I manage it with aplomb.
With my James Bond-like life, I would have made a great secret agent. I’m a billionaire and have enough to never work, but I need to watch my grandfather’s back and he needs my help with diplomacy, log shipments, and logistics. It’s all getting more and more complicated as the years pass.
Besides, my home does have eight bedrooms and five bathrooms and a statue and mural that predates Caesar. This multi-billion-euro mansion is just one of many homes I own. Normally, the amount I’ve spent on this home in the country would be considered gauche by most working Europeans. Maybe even most people. However, someone has to be at the top of this mountain. It might as well be me.
Recently, with the number of jobs I’m juggling, taking on more than a decent fuck when I want it is all I can handle. Lia should know by now that I don’t partake in two-way relationships. My way is the only way, that’s how I like it. That’s how it’s going to be. I’m in control.
It doesn’t help that my grandfather wants me to get married. It’s not like I’m desperate to find someone. I don’t need a wife. I’m not at the age where marriage is a concern. I’m not old. Maybe he’s afraid he’ll die before I give him heirs. I’m up for some kink, not kids. Fuck no on the kids.
I’m selfish. I like coming and going as I please. I make decisions all the time, take care of crews, shipments, and attend business meetings. Being the one in charge affords me the ability to fix details I might have missed or ones that didn’t work out well. That way, no one gets hurt unless they deserve it.
My goal in life is simple. It’s self-preservation, but not at the cost of my family, the one I was born into, and pledge my loyalty to. My family of brothers will always come first.
Before shaving, I wrap the plush Hilton cotton towel around my waist. I don’t need to look manicured, but I don’t like scruff unless the job calls for it. Getting a good lather in my cup, I check my reflection in the mirror.
My curly hair comes from my mother, but the jet back color is a misnomer. My face is wider than a typical Italian, one that I attribute to recessive genes from a distant relative, but it’s unclear as I don’t have many photos. I smear the fluffy paste on my chin and cheeks, take a deep breath, and pick up the barber blade I use. As luck would have it, the first swipe over my chin lightly nicks my face.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
I stop the bleeding with a piece of tissue paper and get back at it as Lia walks into the room. Because I’m looking in the mirror, I notice she’s wearing my thousand-euro Armani shirt to ward off the morning chill. Her perky breasts are inviting me to touch them.
“Everything okay in here?” she asks, moving behind me and wrapping her arms around my waist.
I bristle at her touch and wish she wouldn’t get so close. Sexy time is over. I’m in my own head and there’s no room for her in it. The switch has been flipped. I’m in work mode, and I have a ton of shit I need to get done.
“Lia, I think we need a break,” I turn and notice she looks surprised.
“What? You can’t be serious.” She plays it off, but it has to hurt to be rejected. Ironically, I know, because I get that from my own father when he looks at me.
Lia runs her hand up my chest and tugs at my thick, dark chest hair. I knock her arm away and she lets out a huff and storms out of the bathroom, yelling in Italian. I catch a glimpse of pillows flying through the air.