Playboy Billionaire

“Malibu?”

“...No–“

“Nobu! Sorry.”

“Hey. Don’t apologize.” I’m playing with the ends of my hair, biting a stupid grin, and the second I realize it, I stop myself and push my hair off my shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am.” He says in a fake southern drawl that is far too sexy to be legal. I let out a giggle.

“Alright, well, I’ll be at Nobu too. I’m meeting my friends.”

“Ah. That’s a coincidence. Okay, we can meet at the front at around 9? Sound good?”

“Yes. Perfect.”

“Okay, Lombardi. See you then. Don’t forget to pack some bags.”

“As if I would forget clothes, San Giovanni.” He chuckles as we hang up the phone, and I run straight out the door, down to the elevator, hit the second-floor button, and burst out as soon as the doors reopen. My grandmother’s office is at the end of the hallway, taking up a large portion of the second floor.

I always enjoyed sitting on the floor under her desk as she worked. It was a Barbie fashion studio. Creative, I know. I’d make them clothes and pretend to be their designer. I have always wanted to be a designer. Probably won’t ever get to do that, not with the business my family’s in.

Old-school mafia. It’s up in the air how thisNew EraI hear talks of will fly with my family. They’re rather brutal. But I guess, then again, they’ve had to be since the loss of our two strongest leaders— father and grandpa.

When I arrive, I knock on the door, wait for her to call me in, and cross the room straight to her desk. She's studying a document, probably some sort of truce agreement. I heard some of our boys talking about a fight with the Yakuza over territory. They’re always picking fights with everyone. I know because I hear them talked about more often than any other gang.

“What can I do for you, Stella?” She asks, studying the paper with her rose reading glasses, pink crystal beads on the chain attached to them.

“Well, Antonio and I were just talking,” she sets down the paper and pulls her glasses off her nose, folding forward to listen attentively. I pause as she does so.

“Go on.” Her smile widens, eyes lit with excitement.

“And, uh,” I swallow. “He asked if I’d like to stay with him for a while. Just so that we don’t have to drive four hours a day to see each other. I don’t know how long—“

“Oh my! Stella! Of course, you may go!” I shake my head, not comprehending how easy that was.

“I- I can go?”

“Of course.” She lifts her glasses back up on her nose, waving her gold pen resting between her fingers.

“Have Alk take your bags to his before you arrive. He can unpack them for you, set everything up, so it’s ready.” I don’t move from utter disbelief. When she sees I’m still sitting in front of her, she waves again.

“Go, go. The sooner, the better.” She flashes me one more smile full of pride and I stand up, quickly heading to the door before she snaps into reality and changes her mind.

“Thank you!” I call as I close the door, running back down the hallway and almost colliding with Alk at the top of the stairs.

“Princess!” He admonishes me for running.

“Sorr—“ I stop myself as I recount Antonio’s words. “I was on my way to find you. I’ll need to pack at least five bags and have them sent to Antonio’s new apartment. You also must unpack them before I arrive tonight at around 11 pm.” His eyebrows raise at my assertiveness, then a smirk when he processes what I’ve actually said.

“Right away, Ms. Lombardi.” He never calls me that. It’s more of a joke to us than anything else, so I let out a laugh as I hit the elevator door for us to head up to my room.

“I suppose you know you’ll have to stay with me at this place.” I nudge him as we head up to my floor.

“Yes, Princess. That would be implied. I’ll take four of the boys with me too.” I nod with a grin.

The fragments of freedom that I can see just a glimmer of in the distance are enough to make my stomach do flips. I hope this is just the beginning. I hope I can really sell this story to our families. It’s dangerous, naive, and frankly hilarious that we think we can pull this off but, desperate times…