Page 36 of Model Billionaire

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“I’m excited to go to Paris. This show seems super unique.” I add, and Ainsley nods vigorously. I think the girl must have had three cups of coffee before coming here or something.

“Yeah! Agreed!” She’s about to say something else, but a wine glass chiming in the wind alerts our attention to Lamé.

“Please find your seats as the chef comes out with the first course.” We make our way to the nearest table in response, and Lydia sits between Ainsley and me. I wish Ainsley would bug off. I’m trying to get Lydia in my bed tonight, and honestly, Ainsley is being a bit of a cock-block.

Breakfast is around three courses, one of which is green pancakes that apparently have vegetables in them, but we eat them with some sort of syrup. I don’t know why we are eating so much before a big show, but maybe this is like one last hurrah before all the healthy food. After breakfast, we make our way back into our rooms. I’m surprised that they didn’t take pictures of us in all white. Everyone was wearing basically the same thing at breakfast. It’s rather interesting that this was just an executive decision.

“There's a Gravity Ropes activity down the mountain before hot yoga,” Ainsley notes as we turn to head down Lydia and I’s hallway.

“Hmm.” Lydia nods.

“You guys wanna do it?”

“I think I’m going to take a nap before that. I—”

“It’ll be fun.” Lydia nods to acknowledge that she’s in. I bite my tongue and try not to get too bothered by the fact that I planned to at least try to get her in my bed during our brief break between activities. Although, fucking her would be an activity of its own. I glance over at her, and she searches my eyes like she doesn’t know why I'm not interested in this super fun ropes thing. Nah. Can’t go back on my word now, so I just shake my head at her and stop at my door.

“Have fun, guys.”

“You don’t want to go?” I pretend to think about it, though I’ve made up my mind.

“No.” I shrug and step into my room before they can say another word to me. I lay back on my bed, genuinely tired because I really didn’t sleep last night. Every time I close my eyes, I continue to see the eyes of the people we killed just a couple days ago. It’s pathetic, really. A real fucking downer.

I’ve killed loads of people without an ounce of remorse because they deserved it, but something is eating away at me, and I think I’m becoming weak.

I sigh loudly so my brain will shut up and I can focus on the painted ceiling as my eyes grow heavy. Surprisingly, I begin to drift to sleep without so much as a flicker of dread aching in my stomach. Before I realize it, I’ve drifted to sleep, dreaming of Lydia dancing with me somewhere dark, lit by candles, and the sound of rain rushing around us like a waterfall.

---

“Hey.” A whisper pulls me from my pleasant dreams, and I blink my eyes open, squinting into my bright room to find the source that stirred me. “Romeo.”

I turn my head towards Lydia, sitting on the edge of my bed, wearing a silk sundress with colorful jewels of different cuts layered over the stitching in the bust.

“You look—” I groggily begin, having to stop because my mouth is dry. I swallow the best I can and prop myself up on my elbows to get a better look at her. “You look incredible.”

She smiles before jesting, “And you look tired.”

I blink with a grin as she laughs. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Well, you slept through yoga.” I sit up quickly when she says this, checking my watch to see that it’s already past lunch and we’re meant to be headed to a team-building activity.

“Here.” She hands me a salad bowl loaded with different fruits and veggies. “It’s a Buddha bowl.” She adds when I’m sure I look confused. It’s not that I’m lost; I just can’t believe I slept so long.

“Are they mad at me?”

“No. I covered for you. Figured you needed the rest.”

“Thank you.” I press my brows together in an attempt to convey how much her having my back means to me. Not sure why, but it really does mean something to me. She can be so stubborn I often don’t know how she feels for me. It's nice to know she cares.

“Of course. You’re my friend,” she says, and I take the bowl, beginning to eat with a look on my face to show that I’m bothered by her comment.

“Friend.” I reiterate with a mouth full of greens that taste better than I thought they would.

“Yes.” She grins defiantly, and I shake my head, rolling my eyes with a grin.

“Hm,” I say, shoveling another bite into my mouth because, according to my watch, we have about ten minutes before we have to be at the beach for our next essential activity. After I finish eating and Lydia is laying back on my bed scrolling through her phone, I cross to the closet to change into the next outfit. They’re labeled in the closet for each activity, and mine is a sage green jumpsuit with shell buttons and a silver chain. The color matches some of the jewels in Lydia’s dress. I change in front of her, hoping she’ll look up at some point and we'll end up staying here. I’d really like to take that dress off of her perfect body. But she doesn’t even glance my way. I swear I’m becoming obsessed with her simply because she doesn’t give me the time of day when I want her to.

After I’ve changed, I grab the Miu Miu platform sandals off the floor and quickly put them on. In a matter of moments, we’re both out the door and headed down the steps. We have about five minutes before we have to be on the beach, and we’re practically running through the open corridors to the back pathway leading to the staircase. I can see the group gathered at the base of the stairs, where a stage and speakers are set up. We pat down the steps even quicker when Lamé steps up to the stage.


Tags: Sophia March Billionaire Romance