My Bad Boy Werewolf Quadrillionaire Space Lord

The Captain's Cabin

Luca smiled the satisfied smile of a well-fed wolf, as he watched dozens of trophy wives and mistresses dig through the pile of fake bills, ostensibly attempting to rescue Fabulo Lorenzo from a very expensive avalanche.

He set his hand on Isabella's elbow and steered her towards the stairs after indulging in the sight for a moment. "I'd rather not be here when they realize it isn't real money," he said.

Isabella nodded and walked with him down the stairwell. Luca had just managed to duck around the corner when a blood-curdling scream ripped through the air. "Looks like a gold digger just discovered she hit fool's gold," Luca remarked with a satisfied smile. "I'm impressed that she read the fine print so quickly."

"She's probably used to seeing pre-nuptial agreements getting slipped into everything she's asked to sign," Isabella said. She reached behind her back and picked out something that had fallen into her collar. She held it up and examined it for a moment, then laughed. "This isn't even Monopoly money! It's just a picture of your abs with 'One Hundred Cardego Credits' written on it. It even says in smaller print that you might as well use this to wipe your ass because this bill isn't legal tender anywhere."

"Yep. I ended up buying an old warehouse belonging to the British Royal Mint. Figured I'd make myself some fake money for moments like this," Luca said as he laughed. "Ah, money well spent."

"You're a jackass," Isabella said, but she only managed her insult in between gales of laughter. She even used the fake money in her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, carefully ensuring she used his abs for the job.

"But more importantly, what did you learn by pumping Fabulo for information?" Luca asked.

Isabella squeaked, founded on Luca, and slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be crass. I'm allergic to silicone pecs. Work-out or get-out is my new motto for boys," she said, shuddering. "Don't know what you guys see in fake boobs. Now, what I learned is that this Brotherhood of Billionaires thinks that the secret to anti-gravity is what made Atlantis fly."

Luca let that thought percolate in silence for a moment. Eventually, he nodded. "That makes a lot of sense. Hard to make a city fly any other way."

Isabella scoffed. "Impossible, you mean."

"No, just difficult. The UN Secretary-General occasionally asks if I can chuck the entire Middle East into space and have done with it. She wasn't laughing the last time she asked," Luca said. "What else did you learn?"

"Fabulo is planning to rejoin them before they arrive. They're on the worst-named ship in the history of ships, the Oar Gee," Isabella said, spitting the last two words as if they left an unpleasant aftertaste. "It seems they're just a few days away from Mars."

"Ah, good. So we have time still," Luca said with a smile. His next breath felt as if he had finally stopped carrying a weight he had forgotten was on his back. Relief washed over him, stripping away the worries that recent events had piled on. "Sunset back at the cabin isn't for another seven hours, and we should pick up Alcuard before we go to Mars."

Isabella yawned, smiled affectionately, and wrapped her arm around his waist. Luca put an arm around her shoulder, and steered them towards the main elevator. The relief was a sudden and powerful soporific for Luca, who found himself yawning just as soon as Isabella finished.

"I wouldn't say no if you took me to bed," Isabella said.

"Pretty sure that's been true since we first met," Luca replied, enjoying the fleeting scowl that passed across Isabella's face.

"Maybe," she conceded, as she snuggled her cheek against his chest. "And holy crap that thread count on your shirt is incredible."

"Yeah," Luca agreed quietly. Gently, he put a finger on her chin and tilted her head until he was looking into her eyes. "Care to see the penthouse cabin?"