• 2.1 •

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(So, why this chapter was not published last week was because it was utterly terrible and I could not bring myself to update something like it. So this is fully edited with an extra 400 words. You're welcome! Enjoy! xx)

 You're welcome! Enjoy! xx)

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I DISCARD MY jacket onto the white armchair in my room and a small piece of white paper falls out of the pocket

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I DISCARD MY jacket onto the white armchair in my room and a small piece of white paper falls out of the pocket.

Annabelle. Thanks for the amazing night Diego! Call me! 099 888 7777

I stare at the note in amusement. It was always entertaining to find these notes in my pockets. The hope in their words was always evident and, despite how sadistic it may sound, my favourite part was knowing that I would crush it when they never heard from me again.

What shocked me was that they even thought they had a chance. My reputation for leaving a string of broken hearts was no secret. I was the wealthy playboy who seemed to have it all in his early twenties. Sex was meaningless to me. It was all a game.

When was it going to get into their heads?

Some people understood it. My ex-girlfriend Lara Jimenez understood it. We dated because we provided each other with pleasure that was hard to come by but we never got jealous when we were with other people. And with our lifestyle, it was more often than not.

There was a knock at the door and I grimaced. Not my dad. I'm too sober to have another lecture about the inadequacies of the way I spend my nights.

Not my dad.

Not my dad.

Chiara. My dad's assistant.

"Your father wants to speak to you,"

Of course!

We're not even close but he's always ready to spare time so that he can share just how disappointed he is in me.

I thank her and walk across the hall to his office. I knock on his mahogany door and hear a muffled come in. I walk in and he looks at me over his glasses.

"Son, remember when I told you that you needed to get married to an innocent girl," Dad starts.

He has always been so specific with his words.

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