Page 54 of Wicked (Wicked Billionaires #2)

DANTE

I roll over and I watch Raven’s face. I trace a finger around her perfect curves below, and I run my hand up her thigh to her hip to her chest. I then process why it will never work .

That I’m too old for her. That she’s too innocent. That I’m likely not good for her. We also live different lives, and she needs a sweet kid. I am not that guy. I’m broken.

“Watching someone sleep is creepy.”

“I’m thinking,” I say as she snuggles around.

“About the next lesson?”

It’s best she doesn’t know I’m thinking about her or us. “Yes.”

Her nose crinkles like a cute little creature. “You’re a bad liar. Also, a terrible lover.”

“Really?” I ask as she opens her eyes and looks into mine.

Raven nods, and I stupidly let it out. “Then … teach me how!”

“You… you want me to teach you. Teach you… how to… love?”

I inhale long and slow, and I try not to show my concern. How the hell has this happened?

Raven sits up, and as I lay on the bed, she moves around. She comes to rest on me, and she lays on my chest.

“Look, I don’t usually do private lessons,” Raven says playfully. “So, I better check if you’re suitable.” She is an inch from my face, and her eyes twinkle.

Here we go.

“First, are you good with lessons?”

I nod, and it’s hard to be my usual serious or grumpy self. Raven, as always, is light and playful. I like that about her, and I’m attracted to that pure and free energy.

“Can you do as you’re told?”

I pause, and I’m slow to cover it up.

“We’ll call that a no,” Raven says fast. “And are you okay with homework?”

I nod slowly, wondering if it’s a trap.

“Okay. Finally, are you a team player?” Raven watches me closely, and I clear my throat.

“I’ve never had a real or lasting relationship!”

Raven raises a perfect brow and watches me close. “Okay. What about discipline if you’re, umm, bad?” She bites her lower lip and grins. I’ve seen that look before and it means trouble.

“I’m undisciplined,” I say.

Raven eyes me closely. “That could be a problem.”

There is silence…

“So, will you teach me?” I ask.

Raven’s eyes drill into me, and she turns serious.

“It’s a long course, you have to understand. And it requires… Full. Time. Study.”

I say nothing, but I am starting to get nervous. Also excited with the maneuverings.

“It also requires dedication.”

Where the heck is this going now?

Raven is as cute as it gets, and as always, she takes things to the extreme. Something inside me loves her wild, free, and playful ways. Also, her ability to trust the universe and her ability to think deeply about things and be productive.

Crazy Raven still has no idea I have real money, and that is great.

She likes me for me !

As I peer up at her, I hold her face in my hands. “Show me the way, and I will follow you!”

Raven looks back at me and she does not stop looking into my eyes. I stare back at her, and neither of us move. We stay like that for maybe a full minute, studying each other and getting to know each other more. It’s as if our souls are matching, checking for risk, or even locking.

Maybe we’re just getting further in sync or further embedded within each other’s souls. How the hell should I know? I know fashion. I know business.

I do not know love.

As I glance up at the perfect, gentle, and curvy young woman, I try to work out if I’m losing my shit.

Or if it it’s way too late, and I’m already head over heels. Energy shoots through me, and I have to breathe fast. It feels like panic.

That’s because I know I love her, and there is not a single thing I can do about it.

As we continue gazing into each other’s eyes, Raven smiles. For some reason, I smile back, and it’s so unlike me. Me, the cold bastard.

I love how her eyes crinkle naturally as she smiles, and I love her playful energy. There’s nothing artificial about her at all.

Raven’s fingers find mine, and we lace them together. As she climbs up onto my hips, our eyes never leave each other.

“Baby.”

“Yes,” Raven says as she moves. She lays my hardening cock between her legs, and I feel her warm and moist folds lay down on it. Raven then starts to rock against me, and I moan.

“We have work in…”

And suddenly our alarm goes off.

As Raven raises her eyebrow, our eyes hold. Combined, our frustration could bore a hole in the planet, but it is now showtime.

We have fast baths, and we move quickly.

We are calmly in the zone, and as we dress, the birds chirp outside.

As the sun rises out the window, my mind processes our day ahead.

I’m in the zone, and so is Raven. As we stand in front of the fire and sip our strong coffees, we eat toast, and she adjusts my collar.

Day one, and we will get to test out our theme park systems. We will quickly know if we have a real chance ahead. And if the castle will stay in the family.

For whatever reason, the first day of the theme park goes well. My relatives are sharper than I expected, and they work hard. The local team in the village that helps with security, parking, and admin also do well. We get around a hundred tourists, and they are mostly international.

The team do their best to keep it together, and the sun stays out for the outdoor activities.

As the first day comes to an end, the horse riders return from the Tuscan hills beaming, and the tourists in sports cars drive up the castle in one piece.

We start to relax, and as the cars and buses finally leave the estate, we all get drinks and toast.

“Viva Italia,” comes loud, and I turn to Raven. She is holding her Tuscan wine high, and suddenly everyone calls out the same, loud and proud.

As the following days unfold, we, as a team, are slightly tighter and smoother. In saying that, ticket sales are still lowish. I’ve witnessed slow starts in my own fashion brands, but we will need to push ticket numbers up if this is going to work.

After a decade of creating fashion labels, pumping designers, and staying at the cutting edge of fashion, I have a wealth of knowledge and an arsenal of techniques.

This, however, is different, and my fashion marketing skill set is not entirely useful.

As Raven helps manage the park with me, she films everything and anything she can.

She is surprisingly sharp, and between herding junior staff, handling admin duties plus putting out all kinds of PR fires, she captures key marketing photos and videos.

Either that, or the videos and photos are for her friends back home.

After five days, I tally up visitors and income, plus our surprisingly large expenses.

Ticket sales were not bad, but they were hardly good. I keep the figures to myself, but I will bring them up at the next family meeting.

Raven and I ride horses between the castle and close vineyards. We also walk through the castle checking on groups studying Italian cuisine and fashion, and we use radios on our hips.

We work well together, and we start to find flow as we iron out problems.

As we meet outside the castle front to discuss gladiator numbers and an overly large lunch booking, a car races up, and it slides to a stop.

I turn to the aggressively parked car, and I find my arrogant parents. As they leap from their Italian convertible, I remind myself it was bound to happen.

As my furious parents start to lecture me and tell me I’m ruining the reputation of the place, my grandmother, my aunt, my sister, my uncle, and my cousin gather.

My passionate relatives gather, and somehow the argument is unseen by the tourists.

After an uncomfortable discussion with us backing each other up, my grandmother tells my parents we will buy them out. We would also do one other thing. We would stay the course.

As my lunatic parents speed off with leaves flying, I remember good always comes with bad. The confrontation has oddly united the rest of us, and it has made us stronger, unbreakable.

We must keep the castle at all costs!

After an intense afternoon, we watch the last guests leave and we sit at a long table under the trees. As wine is poured, bread is broken, and pasta is eaten, we catch our breath and talk sales. I give the bad news and options are openly discussed.

The only thing we can agree on is that we need a solution and fast. We are all investing thousands a week just to make ends meet. It is not going to work for long. As I try to work around keeping my word to my grandfather, I remind myself of honor.

I am beyond frustrated, and deep down, I’m close to standing and telling everyone I will buy the castle. Then we can all go home and relax.

As I contemplate breaking my word to the man I call my father, Raven tells me she thinks she can help.

She then explains with some aggressive social media marketing, she thinks she can help solve the problem.

After we all agree and calm, glasses are raised to ‘Viva Italia’ again. It is lower, but it’s still strong.

Nervous glances are shared, and soon Raven and I are standing outside the castle as the last relatives drive off the estate.

I try to find a way to expand areas we’re having success in, while I try to put fires out back home in New York. As the lingering attack on our fashion talent continues, Raven starts to really dig in.

She Zooms with her friend and roommate in NYC, and her dedication is ferocious.

We work late into the night, and as I try to perfect the business model, Raven and her pal do rolling Zooms.

I overhear some, and they are deep into social media marketing, or what some may call black magic. I know fashion marketing back to front, but the two woman use terms I’ve not even heard of.

They send footage back and forth, and I start to realize short form video is their weapon of choice. Reels, TikTok, X, Facebook, and YouTube are their preferred channels too.

Intrigued, I lean over my hard-working girl, and I see some of the videos.

The footage Raven has filmed has been converted into perfect slices of enjoyment, and as music and text build it up, I realize they’ve been making a stockpile of juicy tourism videos.

The videos are short, powerful, and entertaining. Often touching.

Finally, way after midnight, I drag Raven away from her computer. She is half-asleep and she has been working nonstop.

As I lay her down and kiss her nose, she doesn’t even have the energy to speak.

I pull the sheets up, and I hold her from behind. The little powerhouse does not have an off button, and again, the curvy beauty gains my respect.

The room is a bomb site, with printed papers, notes, cameras, hard drives, and schedules everywhere. We have both done well, but the big question is…

Will it work?