Billionaire's Bed by luisavilaok (romantic story to read txt) 📗
- Author: luisavilaok
- Serie: «Billionaire»
Book online «Billionaire's Bed by luisavilaok (romantic story to read txt) 📗». Author luisavilaok
“I feel that I am losing the reins, control” I finally confess, “the fact that I have sold sixty percent of my business to become a company with three locations does not make me feel very calm, there are no more decisions that even go through me.”
“You should consider it better… Wait a minute, three locations you say?
“Plus a central house, which is where I have my workshop today.”
"My goodness, Iggi, that's phenomenal! You should have told me earlier! It's amazing news!”
Joshua picks up his Styrofoam cup and points it at me. I do the same as a toast gesture and it makes me feel a little more satisfied and proud of myself, giving me back a bit of self-esteem with his gesture.
While drinking, I think that it has not been entirely my merit but that of Leonardo who is putting ticket on ticket or check on check in order to control absolutely everything in my life.
For his part, Joshua supports me and makes me believe in myself again. If something makes me fall in love with him, it is that. Unlike Leonardo, I do not feel inferior. I can feel admired and loved both by his words and by his smile or the sparkle that arises in his eyes when he looks at me.
Sadly, he doesn't have an Italian accent, tuxedo, or statuesque back to leave me drooling when he drops the silky cotton shirt on the carpeted floor in front of his bed.
I won't tell him anything, but he deserves it.
After lunch, before returning to the workshop to continue with the typical tasks of the process in the passage of the headquarters, I decide to make a stop at our old apartment to get some of my things that will be necessary for at least one more day. Last night I stayed in my boss's penthouse, but tonight I really have no idea and will most likely have to pay for a night in a hotel other than his hotel, just to keep a safe distance from Joshua until things settle down.
Because yes, I want that to happen.
By the way, I'll tidy up the apartment a bit because I know it's a bit messy and between work and video games, the last thing he’ll remember is folding his clothes when you take them out of the dryer or scrubbing the floors daily.
My alarm signals go off when I feel the phone vibrate insistently in my bag once I'm about to go home.
I walk up the steps and check my phone to see it’s an incoming call from Leonardo.
“Fuck off.”
The words have come out in a murmur as if it were capable of biting every particle of exhaled air.
I reject the call..
Incoming call again.
I reject it again.
A message enters that I see from the top bar without giving it the pleasure of marking the blue ticks.
"I HAD A NINE HOUR FLIGHT AND I FOUND THIS. IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK. ANSWER".
Isn't that what I think? Mind you, I'm crazy and it's not what I just saw on the news, right? In addition to giving him the pleasure of sending me little gifts directly from the warehouses of his lady wife.
Go with her, bastard.
He insists on his calls so I force myself to turn off the phone and put it away. I take the key out of my bag and go into the house.
Where the smell of beer is the first thing that fills my nostrils as soon as I'm inside, as if it had been spilled on the floor. There are joysticks on the floor and the crooked couch with its back to me.
It seems that the party washectic. That therapeutic meeting with his friends was apparently not so therapeutic…
There are some bare feet at the other end of the chair.
I grab a beer bottle off the floor as if this will help defend myself as I plod along ready to smash it over someone's head if they've broken into the house.
However, my heart suddenly goes to my feet, quickly bringing my blood to a boiling point and the fights leave me to the point of collapse.
Joshua hadn't even seen it coming that I was going back to the house.
Because in addition to the smell of beer it also smells of sex.
And there is a naked blonde girl sleeping drunk on the couch.
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