𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝚩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 | 18+

23 || WORKAHOLISM

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | WORKAHOLISM
𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪

Lorenzo never relaxed. He always worked, often averaging around twenty hours of work and going to bed so incredibly late that he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. That was the very reason why he lived on caffeine, consuming nearly eight cups of coffee a day. What lack of sleep he got translated into cups of coffee.

So one could imagine his surprise when he finally walked upstairs to his wing and found Natalia wide awake, a slice of pizza hanging from the captive of her lips as she intensely tapped away on her keyboard, the circles under her eyes appearing to be almost darker than his.

Why the fuck was she still awake when it was already five in the fucking morning?

"Talia."

She didn't answer, not having heard him. It was almost as if her mind had completely logged off in its pursuit of finishing whatever it was that she was doing.

"Talia," Lorenzo repeated, more firm in his approach rather than his initial soft one.

The girl didn't answer, pushing her hair band back when a shiny lock of hair fell before her eyes despite having messily put her hair up. She continued working, somehow managing to pull the pizza further up as she chewed, a skill he found rather amusingly peculiar.

"Natalia."

She jumped in her seat, snapping her head his way, the pizza dropping face flat onto the little table she'd occupied with her work. "Lorenzo...?"

Rolling his eyes, he took a few strides forward, his long legs allowing him to be by her side in a few steps. A simple gesture of his chin and she was out of her chair with an annoyed furrow between her eyebrows. He stole her seat and just as she was about to complain to him for not simply taking the spare chair right beside hers, he pulled her onto his lap, rubbing his face into her neck just like Mila often did.

"I'm working, Lorenzo," Natalia sighed, melting into his arms despite her complaints. She'd needed him as much as he needed her right then and there. They were equally tired and equally determined to be the best at what they did. "I need to finish this before I go to bed."

He'd finally found his match in the art of workaholism.

He completely ignored her, his eyes darting across every open tap, every document and every number she had run.

"I finished the hotel business. I just need to schedule a few more posts for Instagram."

Instagram... "Instagram the social media with pictures, sì?" Yes?

A soundless chuckle left her lips as she nodded. "The one with pictures, yeah. I've been trying to increase my engagement but alas all people seem to care about is seeing me on a beach in a bikini at the moment. A bit difficult seeing as I'm stuck here for the time being."

Engagement...

"I want more to engage in my content by liking, commenting and sharing it. It increases viewership which increases my content being recommended, which in turn increases the amount of money and sponsorships I get," she explained upon seeing his confusion. "More engagement, more money."

He couldn't help but smile. Suddenly, it became very evident to him why she'd been top of her class.

"I just need to plan some pictures and then I'll be in bed, I promise."

"Time." How long?

She hesitated. "One or two hours. I'm creating a new highlight."

What's a highlight?