How far are you willing to go for your obsession? For me, Bianca Dawson, the answer was farther than I ever thought possible. Jude Bellingham wasn't just a football star; he was my idol. I was prepared to do anything just to have him.
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"How long are you staying?" she asked, her voice soft and a little hopeful.
I got out of bed, beginning to get dressed. Blonde and beautiful, just the way I liked them.
"Not long," I said, putting on my shoes and straightening my shirt.
Spain was just a quick stop on a business trip, but more importantly, it was a chance to check in on my sister. I enjoyed these business trips; they gave me a break from my wife and family, a chance to breathe and indulge in the pleasures each city had to offer. There was always a different girl in each city, each one a brief escape from my responsibilities.
I glanced back at her as she lay in bed, her hair spread out like a golden halo on the pillow. She looked so innocent, so unaware that this was the first and last time we'll ever see each other."I have an early flight to Italy," I added, reaching for my suit jacket.
She sat up, the sheet slipping off her shoulders, revealing more of her perfect skin. "Will you come back?" she asked, her eyes searching mine for some hint of a promise.
"Maybe," I said, noncommittal. "You never know where business might take me." I gave her a quick smile, the kind that had always worked to keep things light and uncomplicated.
My lifestyle was different cities, meetings, and women. The luxury of a private jet made it all seamless, allowing me to move from one place to another without the hassle of commercial flights. My jet was equipped with everything I needed: plush leather seats, a fully stocked bar, and even a small meeting room for last-minute preparations or discussions.
I made my way down to the lobby of my new hotel. I nodded to the concierge as I passed, knowing my driver would be ready and waiting.
The black Mercedes was parked outside, the driver holding the door open for me. "Good morning, sir," he said with a slight bow.
"Morning," I replied, sliding into the back seat. "To the airport."
As the car pulled away, I checked my phone for messages. My wife had texted, asking about my trip, but I ignored it for now. There were also a few emails from work, updates on the various projects I was overseeing. I quickly scanned through them, making mental notes of what needed my attention once I got to Italy.
Italy was always a pleasure. The food, the wine, the culture—it all suited me perfectly. I had a meeting scheduled with a new potential partner, but beyond that, I looked forward to some leisure time. Maybe a nice dinner in Rome, a walk through the historic streets, and, of course, the company of another beautiful woman.
It was one of my favorite cities; however, this trip might be different. My conversation with Bianca left me unsettled. I loved my sister dearly, but she was always different. Bianca wasn't like me or our older sister Madison, and for that, she was always treated differently.
