“Fine,” I relented. “I happen to know just the place. But I’m paying.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Anton
Isat at the sleek glass desk in my hotel suite staring at my computer screen. The sheer curtains billowed around the open window, and the quiet hum of the street below filtered through. I barely noticed. My focus was locked on the fluctuating numbers spread across multiple windows—U.S. stock trends, shifting cryptocurrency valuations, and market volatility indicators.
Years of experience had sharpened my instincts, allowing me to read these movements like a second language, letting me know exactly when to pivot and when to hold. A slight downturn in tech stocks caught my eye, but it was the erratic behavior of Bitcoin that held my attention. There was an opportunity buried beneath the panic of minor investors, and I could already see how to exploit it. However, I was looking to offload my crypto portfolio, not expand it.
Leaning back in my chair, I reached for the mug of coffee that had long since turned cold. I took a sip as I picked up my phone, scanning through the messages. One from Myla stood out. I tapped the screen and dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Tell me you have good news,” I said.
“Depends on how you define good,” Myla replied, her tone even. “The nondisclosures for the contractors renovating the private lounges have been signed and filed. They should begin work sometime next week.”
“And the completion date?” I hated any disruptions for the members at Club O, but the lounge renovations were needed.
“Pending no unforeseen problems, the rooms should only be down for five days.”
“Good. Keep me apprised on the progress. What about the update for the new security system?”
“Almost finished. But I would feel better if Zeke could give it his stamp of approval before I sign off on anything.”
“I agree. I’ll see about sending him back to New York early to help with that. Anything else?”
“That should be it. How are things in Italy?” she asked.
I pressed my lips together, not sure how to describe how things were going. I’d been here for two solid weeks. During that time Serena and I had settled into an easy routine. We spent most afternoons and all of our evenings together, and I had enjoyed several more dinners in the company of Sylvia Martinelli. After that first dinner, she discovered who I was. While most people’s behavior would have changed once they learned of my status, Sylvia remained as kind as she had on the day I met her.
She was a lovely woman, and it was easy to see why Serena didn’t want to disappoint her. Hell, evenIwas beginning to care about her approval. I’d never followed a curfew once in my life, yet I completely understood the need for one now—but understanding didn’t mean that I liked it.
I wanted more from Serena—freedom from rules and time restrictions. I hadn’t planned on things being like this when I came to Italy. My eyes drifted back to the charts on my screen. Markets were predictable. My predicament with Serena was not. And in my world, control was everything. The days were slipping away. I had two weeks left with her, and I needed to take command of what remained of our time together.
“It’s different. Quieter and more…domestic,” I told Myla, lacking a better word to describe the situation.
She laughed. “Domestic is not how I would describe you.”
I was about to agree, but the line beeped to signal another incoming call. I glanced at the screen. It was Serena. I quickly ended the call with Myla and clicked over.
“Afternoon, princess. I was just thinking about you.”
“Were you now?” she mused, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “That sounds dangerous.”
I leaned back in my chair, allowing the sound of her voice to wash over me. “You have no idea.”
She hummed in response, and I could almost picture her—leaning against the wood table in her workshop, her eyes sparkling the way they always did when she was toying with me. “What exactly were you thinking about?”
I let the question hang between us for a moment, my mind shifting gears.
“A few things,” I said smoothly. “Like how long it’s been since I’ve had you pinned beneath me with my cock inside you. Or how much I love the sound of you moaning my name.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You’re insatiable.”
I bit back a chuckle. “I think you like that about me.”
“It’s too early for me to handle your shenanigans.”
“It’s well past noon.”