Page 40 of Forbidden (Wicked Billionaires #1)

LORENZO

I’m exhausted, and I’m completely over the yearly movie market. It’s always intense, and even if I have several media companies, movie companies, and solid staff, I have likely invested in way too many movies, and streaming projects this year.

It’s hard to keep up with, and I’ve wanted to spend more, and real time, with Storm.

I just have to close on some complex deals, and I must discuss some upcoming productions. If I don’t complete a few complex moves with several parties, I could lose billions.

The timing is complicated, but it is what it is. It is partly out of my hands, and that has been making me nervous.

Attending a party is the last thing I want to do. I just need to catch up with two people, put some deals to bed, and see Dante.

The billionaire has become a good friend, and we need to discuss the planned entertainment business.

I’m glad Dante and Storm get on. I like that, and I hope we all get some time together tonight. Even if I don’t want to go this evening, I force myself to get in the zone.

I have way too much on, and if I do not stay in control of the movies and companies, I could lose it all, everything.

I’ve been asked by a Wall Street fund manager, if I want to spread some of my business risk. In exchange for capital and billions from him, I would simply allow him to invest in ten movies I have in production and postproduction. If I agree, I can breathe.

I just have a few complex questions.

In reality, he and the deal are really why I am attending tonight, and on edge.

As we are driven across the French Riviera city, I look out the window, lost in thought. “Look, are you alright?”

I turn to Storm, distracted, “Sorry.”

I force myself to be present, as she takes my hand. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I say, distracted, and distant. I’m trying to calculate how many hundred million I could lose, if I screw up the next three days.

Also, how to craft the deal memo with Dante, and how to structure the deal we hope to do. Storm is holding my hand, but she slowly removes it.

I’m instantly pulled back to reality, and I look over at her. “I’m sorry baby, I’m just tired and distracted.”

“Are you sure?”

I rub my neck, and I sigh. “Yes, and my apologies. I have too much on, and it’s also hard to think, with you here so close… ”

“Look, sorry, I can go, I just… ”

“No, I asked you to come, and I need you here,” I say taking her hand. Our eyes meet, and we are clearly on edge. “We’ll be fine, and we jet home tomorrow, right!”

Storm smiles sweetly, and nods. Her big brown eyes warm. “So, nothing else?”

I shake my head and sigh. “Just too much going on.”

“Well just remember, I’m here,” Storm says.

As always, she’s a team player, and she is completely down to earth. I squeeze her hand, and I wink at her as we reach the marina.

We walk arm in arm toward the yachts, and I know which one it is. It’s the largest super yacht, it makes sense.

Supposedly this is the film festival party to attend, and it is where the biggest players will be.

Like Dante, myself, Troy Remington, and all of our global competition.

I know some of my staff will be here, so I will not be working alone. As I go to call Dante, and Troy, I find a message from Troy.

Stuck in deal meeting. Trying to package six movies. Enjoy. Can not attend.

I think about Dante, and I know he will be here.

“All okay?” Storm asks as she looks over the yachts.

“Of course. Troy won’t make it, but we’ll catch up with Dante.”

“Great, I like Dante. He’s gentle, and classy.”

“He is that,” I say, as I show our two lavish invites. “He is also supposedly wicked.”

Storm raises a brow, and she tries not to blush. As the staff usher us onto the yacht, I remember who is hosting the gathering.

It’s one of the world’s top entertainment banks, and a company I’ve borrowed from in the past. Around five billion over the last decade, which means in terms of interest I’ve paid them, I’ve basically paid for this yacht.

I shake hands with the bank’s US Vice President, and we have personally, done deals together.

“Lorenzo,” he says, with a firm hand.

“Benjamin, this is Storm.”

“Storm, that’s quite a name.”

“She’s quite a woman,” I say, proudly. Storm blushes, and as always, she is divine.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, shaking Ben’s hand.

“Well, enjoy yourself, and we’ll see you onboard, soon.”

We walk aboard, and we are late to the entertainment bank’s grand party. I am keen to move fast, and I have no intention of wasting time.

After receiving drinks, Storm and I hold hands, and we circulate. I avoid idle conversations with middle and lower-level film studio execs and producers.

I nod to a few I know, but time is important. I have to be surgical this evening, and I do not want to waste Storm’s night.

Finally, we find Dante, and he is on an outer deck near the back. We talk alone in the corner, and it is good to see him. As Storm is with us, we avoid heavy conversations about the venture we are considering. We can do that later, and we do not want to insult Storm, or disrespect her time.

The environment, and music calms me, and for the first time in a week, I manage to breathe. I know I will soon need to find the fund manager, and discuss the finance offer, but I have time to think.

Storm, Dante and I share a private moment, and we laugh about friends and a vacation we had in the Bahamas.

As Sophia, one of our French movie VPs walks over, the energy flattens.

I notice Storm tense slightly, but she says nothing. Sophia kisses Dante, French style, and on both cheeks. She then goes to kiss my cheeks, I watch Storm and wink.

She is watching closely, and Sophia tries to lean in close.

It is too close, and I don’t like it.

Neither does Storm.

Sophia makes no effort to kiss Storm, and that, I make note of. The true French custom, is both cheeks, and on all adults. Men and women.

As our leggy sales exec tries to charm Dante, he nods politely. I know she is not his type, and he has told me he’s only interested in down to earth women.

Sophia is dressed in a long white satin gown, and she is dressed over the top.

She wears layers and layers of perfectly white pearls, and she appears to be wanting to steal the show.

In saying that, she is good at charming movie distributors. She is exceptionally good at selling the movies I have invested in.

“You all look so classy tonight,” she says in her sexy French accent.

We all thank her, and we make polite small talk. I don’t like that she is sticking around. Before she walked up, we were all relaxed, and laughing in private.

Sophia compliments Storm on her style, but something is off.

The way she said it, was obvious she was trying to outclass Storm.

If I could tell, it meant Storm could tell. Her radar for bullshit, is far better than mine for some reason.

I don’t like what Sophia just did, and I make a mental note to pull her up on it tomorrow, via email.

Storm ignores the jibe, and she plays along, holding her mouth. She is all class, and again, I adore her for being so mature.

As we discuss what solid movies we’ve seen at the market, we talk about what is trending with global movie audiences.

Dante’s eyes meet mine, as Sophia tries to prove her value. It appears obvious to us both, she is trying to impress, and it makes no sense. I have already employed her.

Sophia is making our small gathering awkward, and I want her out of the picture and fast.

When you have worked like a son of a bitch all of your life, and you have accumulated excess wealth, you attract way too many gold diggers.

Woman with agendas, who seek billionaires, basically forget two important facts.

Firstly, to make billions, you need to work insanely hard. Few outwork billionaires. That means we invest time in monitoring upsides, and down.

Secondly, and more relevant, you need radars with radars. To build, then protect that wealth, from ruthless corporate raiders, from competitors, and from gold diggers.

As Sophia talks on, she is not being entirely rude. She is however, trying to show off, trying to flirt with Dante, but now, of all things, trying to flirt with me.

Before I can walk her away, with a non-dramatic excuse, then deal with her tomorrow, several entertainment bankers stop by to talk.

After hand shaking, and small talk, they leave, and thankfully, they take Sophia.

I see Storm relax some, and she watches me shake my head. I wink, and kiss her cheek, before Dante, Storm and I share eye contact. After we all laugh, I start to relax, again.

Showbusiness.

I decide to push on, fast and I try to get Storm and I home as quickly as possible.

First, I need to discuss things with Dante, and then find the Wall Street fund manager. I have to discuss his offer, while we are here, and while the funds are on offer.

On the back of the super yacht, Dante and I discuss the planned deal in broad strokes. Dante, and I explain what we see as possible obstacles, and we reach a point where we think we can navigate all.

We are both mature, and flexible and I sense we can match. It’s important because if we do this, it will be both entertainment, and fashion related, and the deal worth close to a billion.

After toasting, Storm tells us she’s impressed. I thank and kiss my girl before telling her I need to do one more thing.

I ask Dante to look after Storm, and I head quickly away.

Ten minutes later, I find the Wall Street investor. He’s happy to see me, and on the side of the super yacht, now standing alone, I express my concerns.

I need to make sure the billions offered are not contaminated, with control. After I explain I need to retain control of my creative decisions, including movies I make, where and when, he lowers his scotch.

“I have no intention to control how you invest, Lorenzo. I trust you, and so does my fund. You’re one of the best in the world, and you know what people want, globally. Your track record is immaculate. If we do this, you have all the room you need.”

I nod and look across the French Riviera. After two more complex questions, and answers that calm my fears, I turn to him and finally nod.

I’m in.

“Let’s do this,” he says, in his perfectly cut pin stripe.

“Alright,” I say as we shake.

The man clasps my shoulder respectfully, and he has balls to touch me. “Let’s talk next week, but we’re really excited.”

As I walk away, I breathe deep. Finally, room to move.

Note to self: slow down on expanding, and focus only on Storm.

I try to get back to Storm and Dante, and I attempt to navigate the overly crowded super yacht.

It is loud, distracting, and now over the top, as I try to avoid several flirty international models.

That is when I see Sophia.

She is staring at me as she dances, and she bites her lip. I can tell she wants to fuck, so I decide to avoid her, like the plague. As I look away and try to find the right passage away from the dance floor, I notice Storm walk past Sophia in the distance.

Storm sees my eyes sweep past Sophia as she dances, and my jaw tightens. The timing is horrible, and I curse low.

I loathe drama, even if nothing has happened.

I knock my whiskey back, and I walk towards Storm as she heads to where her, Dante and I were earlier.

The crowd on the main floor is dense, and I cannot keep up with Storm. I cut down an internal passage, and head to the rear of the yacht. It becomes a maze, and I am lost.

I pause to use a bathroom, and catch my breath.

As I try to process the two-billion-dollar Wall Street discussion, I remove my jacket. I need to move fast and find my girl.

I lean on the marble sink, and I run cold water, and bathe my face. I’m fried. I take two long, needed breaths in. As the main bathroom door opens and closes behind me, I mumble, “It’s busy.”

I’m sure I hear the door to the bathroom then turn, but maybe I’m losing it with the water on my face.

“Hello?” I ask, annoyed.

There’s no answer, so I shake my head.

I need to get back to Storm, and I need to get her and me home. Home to where we can build a life, away from the madness of showbiz.

As I dry my face and turn, I see Sophia in front of me.

The lunatic is now naked, her dress at her feet. She is also knocking back a shot of something. As she eye fucks me, she walks forwards. She is shaven, hot, and cat-like.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Sophia hands me a shot, and I swat it away. The glass shatters against the wall, but she continues forwards. Shaking my head, I back up. “Get the hell away from me!”

“Take me, any place you want, any style.”

“Get the hell out.” I demand.

Snatching my dinner jacket, I try to sidestep her. The woman is fast, and she tries to grab me. At the same time, the door opens, and Storm’s eyes widen.

The timing is horrific, but it has just gotten worse. The crazy French woman is starting to kneel, and she is reaching for my zipper.

“Babe!” I yell, but Storm is fast and...

Gone.

The door slams closed, and I cannot throw the French woman aside and run. Doing the next best thing, I swing her away, and onto a velvet sofa.

“You animal,” she cries, as I slip on the wet marble floor.

I finally reach the door handle, and run out the door. Now outside, I look left and right, before I run through the yacht.

I search desperately for Storm, but the yacht has many decks, stairwells, and likely three hundred guests.

Minutes later, I find Dante, and I run up, “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Storm!”

“She went to find you.”

“Shit!” I yell, leaning over the side of the super yacht.

I scan the deck below, and I see Storm running along the gangway, and sliding into a black taxi.

“Storm!”

My girl flicks her hair off her face, and her eyes meet mine for a flash. She then slams the door, and speeds into the night.

I run through the sea of guests, and I hear Dante’s voice. “Lorenzo, wait!”

I ignore my friend, and I barge through a sea of dancers.

Finally, I make it off the yacht, and I ignore the banker’s offer for help.

There are no taxis around, so I force myself to sprint along the marina, towards our hotel. All I can think of, is how much I hate gold diggers.

Deep down what dominates that thought more, is how much I love.

And love her.

As I run through the night, I yell at the top of my lungs.

“Fuck!”