Rich, hot, smart, amazing—Alessandro Vitale. Growing up he was smart—smart to the point where he skipped two grades of elementary school and graduated at 16. After that, he built his own company—clubs, resultants, apps, everything. He was a multi-billionaire by age 23. His parents were assholes, and we’re jealous of his succession, so they didn’t have much of a relationship after he turned 18 and moved out.

At 24, he met the love of his life. You. Short black dress, hair down to your hips, beautiful smile. His heart practically stopped when he saw you from across the bar that night. A year later, you were married. And now, you were on your honeymoon.

He ran his hand up and down your calf, listening to you talk. He could do this all fucking day—watch the water, hear your voice. You were in a black bikini, he was in black swim trunks. You laid out on the deck, right by the ocean. Your villa was huge and fancy, and rented for 2 weeks, today was only day 4.

“So..he didn’t want to publish you because you were dating a man who does ‘shady’ business?” He spoke when you paused—you were talking about the book you were getting published, you finished it just a couple weeks ago and were looking for a good company to publish it.