Page 53 of Wicked (Wicked Billionaires #2)

RAVEN

Over the next few days, I write, but we focus mainly on the theme park. We plan, meet, sketch, budget, and schedule the various elements of it, and we work fast.

It’s fun, but intense and hard work.

Dante seems to have a natural knack for knowing what people might enjoy and what experiences would work. Maybe that’s why he knows how to manipulate my body to perfection. As we work hard on the theme park during much of the day, I get to tick off a few more things on my list in the night.

Those include really working on my G-spot. Anal. Spanking… Even choking.

Oh, my God!

Are you kidding me?

As Dante’s relatives dig in and work hard, the theme park becomes more real and fun.

To stay involved with the park, and here in Italy, I had to ask my horrible boss for a week off, unpaid. For whatever reason, she agreed, but it was lucky timing.

For the first time in my life, my life seems to flow, and I think I’m even becoming content. It’s a new sensation for me, and I like it a lot.

I polish my positive Italian travel article for the company I work for, and I lean back to finish reading it again.

I wrote two solid drafts a week ago, and it is now tighter.

I’m proud, and it really does sell the great nation.

I hit send, and the positive travel article, ‘Bravo Italy,’ is shot across the globe.

I cannot control which story my evil boss runs with, and I’m nervous about the first I was forced to write.

After my incredible stay in this stunning old nation, and after so many glorious experiences, I hope to God they run with the version I feel is accurate and respectful.

It’s hard to imagine why my boss would want to make Italy sound boring or even nasty. The idea now makes me sick.

Italy is far from boring or nasty. It is alive, it is electric, and it is incredible.

I do not know what my boss has in the game, but something stinks. Maybe she’s getting big budget travel advertisings from competitive destinations, and she is ruthless.

Maybe she’s selling out and say, helping France, Spain, or other destinations.

Mid-morning, and excited, I refocus on my novel. I am pages away from completion, and I have to finish it. In the zone, I sit fireside, and I work on the last ten pages with Tito at my feet.

As I polish sentences and form more, I start to lose focus.

I then worry about us, and if I’m now too far out on the branch of life, picking and tasting the sweetest of fruit. I’m in a place where there are no safety nets.

I hardly know Dante, and deep down, I worry I’m feeling too much for him.

My heart speeds up, and I start to freak out. That’s when my mind tells me to use the energy and experience and put it into words in the book. Convert the energy into words, now!

I leap up, pace, and I shake my odd energy into my fingertips.

My mind is now processing the anxiety, and it surrounds me like a cloud of chaos. Quickly, I sit, and I start writing fast.

I do not stop for an hour, and I flow. My mad mind churns out words, and for some reason they come thick and fast.

All of a sudden, I’m a few pages from writing the end of the novel, and I leap back and out of the chair excited. There is a sound at the door, then, “Should I come back later?”

I turn to find Dante with his notepad and jacket in hand.

I laugh madly, run to him, and leap high. Dante catches my butt, and he drops his jacket and notepad to the ground.

We hug, and I plant a huge kiss on his face.

As Dante holds me, he looks confused.

“I kind of finished the book!” I rant. “It was just a few pages, but it came out of thin air. It felt perfect. It’s there, almost finished!”

“Congratulations! That’s fantastic!”

I feel electric, and I drop down and spin as Dante watches. Tito jumps up and he barks happily as I dance with him.

I cannot believe the ending concept came from nowhere, or perhaps, it just came from the universe.

That evening, Dante and I cook dinner together over the cool medieval fireplace. It’s locally caught seafood, and Tito has his chopped-up meat.

As Dante and I sit on the castle turret next to the bedroom chamber, we watch the sunset. Tito lays nearby, and we are all mesmerized with the sun on the horizon.

As birds fly overhead in groups, I feel excited but also disturbed. That’s because deep down I know.

I know I’m in love.

It terrifies me, and I tell myself I have to get better with this and mature. It’s really my first time, and the sensation is gripping me tight. I cannot stop thinking about Dante, and I know it’s not just about sex.

Or him making me come… telling me when to come… or him not allowing me to come.

It’s about my heart belonging to him, and me not being able to control myself.

As if I’m… I’m addicted. I gulp, stand, and walk to the high turret edge. I then stand where Italian warriors or soldiers must have shot arrows at attacking Vikings, French, Spaniards, or others.

My heart races, and I am nervous, excited, and confused. I hear a sound behind me, and I feel Dante close.

We lean over the turret, and we look down on the large new Italian styled flags flying in the wind. The large billowing flags have been placed along the driveway and entrance for the theme park, and they are satin and shimmering.

They are stunning in the colors of Italy, and they flap in the light wind.

We have done well and so has the entire team. Everything seemed to come together faster than most of us imagined, and it’s almost as if it was meant to be.

Every one of Dante’s relatives, bar his parents, who do not know what we’re doing, has over-delivered. And now…

Now, we are close to opening.

The timing is weird, and like us , it’s exciting. It’s nerve-wracking at the same time, like much of my life.

I shake my head to quiet the monkey in my brain, and we enjoy the sun’s show as it finally sets and drops below the horizon.

As moonlight forms, we stand in silence, and I try to breathe. It’s hard, and I feel Dante’s powerful energy at my side. I force myself not to hold him, and I tell myself to calm the heck down.

The areas reserved for gladiator training are below, under the great trees. The polished and gleaming Italian sportscars sit below, and they look glorious. The only car that will not be used is the black Ferrari Dante and I use, and it is safely inside the castle.

In the distance, we see the horses in the stables, and I can just make out vineyards rolling over the Tuscan hills. That is where Dante’s sister will take people riding through the world-class vineyards.

“We’ve done well and thank you. Thank you for everything,” Dante says, turning to me and wiping a hair from my face.

I grin nervously and look into his rich green eyes. “My pleasure.” Dante holds me as we look down the coast and watch the moon rise.

Deep down, as I lean against his chest and feel his arms around me. I know one thing… I feel way too much and I’m in huge trouble.