Drive Him Wild (THE BILLIONAIRE AND THE POP DIVA Volume 2) (2 page)

Anouska shook her head. “You’re extra looney today, Vanna.”

“And did he have to kiss like a romance book hero?!” She bawled louder.

“Oh, he kissed you last night?”

She made an unladylike growl.

“Aha! You already chose him last night!”

Valenna shook her head, wiping her tears. “I changed my mind. I’ll choose from the others.”

“What?! Seriously?!”

“I don’t wanna give my cherry to a bored man who would forget about it the next day. That guy has probably popped dozens! You saw him. Cherries were probably chasing him since high school. Well, I would give mine to somebody who would frame my hymen’s blood and put it in his family museum as a macho trophy! I want him to be proud he took my cherry and brag about it to his friends! I don’t wanna be compared to Brigitte. At least Kerion can’t compare us, but I can’t live with Giane comparing us and I’m sure I can’t hold a candle to that maneater who can suck chrome off a Zoldatti bumper! I saw with my own eyes how she was making Kerion sing soprano and that jerk couldn’t sing if his life depended on it! No, that would be too much for me to take. My ego is still too fragile for Brigitte,” she admitted the last bit grudgingly.

Anouska was laughing at her now. “You’re ten varieties of nuts today, girl. Okay, I can understand how you feel about her but the woman’s a skank, Vanna. She would hump anything that sprouts a dick. So what if Giane used to fuck her? She was obviously just one of his past flings.”

“Just like I will be. Just a one night stand.”

“Well, he didn’t buy her for 50 million dollars. That’s the difference.”

But her mind was set. “Call Damon Reed and cancel his bid. I’m not choosing his client.”

Anouska’s jaw dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

She speared Anouska with a look that brooked no arguments. “Have you ever heard me joke about turning down 50 million dollars? Do it. I’ll get ready for the press junket.”

She stood up and entered her bedroom again.

To wake up without feeling
like the biggest loser in the universe was a breath of fresh air. He’d slept uninterrupted by nightmares last night. He was actually dreaming. Of lavender fields and whiskey eyes and hair reflecting sunbeams.

Smiling, Giane took a shower and got ready for the day. He had obligations to fulfill for the F21 franchise. Several press junkets awaited him today. Oddly, the thought that he’d be grilled about his loss in the first race of the season which he usually won didn’t make his stomach turn this morning when yesterday, he wanted to disappear from the face of the earth and lick his wounds elsewhere.

When he emerged into the suite’s living room, Damon was already there, dressed impeccably in a suit and busy with his laptop. Damon slept late and woke up earlier than most humans. He wondered if his right hand man slept at all. Without even taking his eyes off the monitor, Damon started summarizing the state of his finances that day.

“Our boy from Merryl is planning to unload some 8 million shares of your GM stocks at Nasdaq tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“There’s talk that Uncle Sam’s going to unload half of its 500 million shares soon.”

Giane went behind the bar and poured himself a mug of coffee from the steaming percolator. “Okay, tell me what you think.” He acquired the GM stocks after the bail-out of GM from bankruptcy by the US government. It was a very huge risk but he was a man who thrived on risks, on the race track and with his extensive stock portfolio. He had plenty of leverage anyway.

“Talk of the street is that GM’s leaders are not allowing DC to influence them in their product development which pisses the president off who wants more fuel-efficient hybrid cars for the American masses than those gas guzzlers like the Silverados and Tahoes. If we sell this early, we’d make roughly 200 mil.”

He shrugged and sipped from his mug of coffee. “So sell. Buy back after a week or so. DC won’t sell. Not yet anyway. They will lose maybe 20 billion dollars if they do.”

“You sound confident of that.”

“Obama bailed out the company and is keeping the prices afloat by the sheer force of his reputation. A lot of people still believe he can turn around the economy during his term. His government won’t give up the shares just like that. It’s too embarrassing for him to cash in on the fall. It speaks badly of his administration. He’s getting enough flak from his health bill, he doesn’t want to add more weapon for his detractors to latch on to further discredit his leadership.”

Damon nodded. “That could be true. Okay, we’ll sell tomorrow and buy back after a week or so as prices are most likely to drop after we sell.”

“Buy back after two weeks and hedge. Then we wait what DC comes up with next. If they’d indeed sell, we’ll maintain the shares. I’d probably ask the board to infuse more capital. The Impero may end up owning majority of GM.”

“Now, that would be history in the making. Okay, your Toyota stocks gained 5 percent today. Nikkei is bullish. Zoldatti shares continue to soar at the NYE, Dow and LEX following the release of the Z11 ad campaign in Europe and the US. All your investments with the Oracle are gaining momentum this month. The rest are on status quo which you need to look into later. Chart’s bloody boring. Hardly any movement. We need to unload clutter.”

“Good. Alright now, relax. Let’s have some breakfast.”

“You’re really in a good mood this morning. Any particular reason why you’re not biting my arse off already?” Damon asked him in a deadpan tone.

He smiled. “I need breakfast.”

“It’s coming up. I already ordered.”

They heard the private elevator ding. Damon went to open the door. Wynona, his publicist and agent came in looking ready to conquer the world. The fortyish British redhead handled all his endorsements and media representation.

“Morning, Wynona. Looking great today,” Giane greeted her.

Wynona looked more like an aging soap actress than the shrewd corporate lawyer that she was. She had big hair, big boobs and big attitude. And she always got him the biggest deals. He liked big women, alright.

“Oh, thank you, darling. You look dashing too, as always. Great news! Nike called. They’re launching a new line of products. They’re diversifying into motorsports and they want you on their billboards worldwide ASAP! And Gucci—”

He cut her gently. “That’s great,
bellisima
, but can we have breakfast first before we proceed with all that? I can’t think with an empty stomach.”

“Of course! What would you like? I’ll order room service.”

“Damon already had. Titus has brewed my new favorite coffee. You want some?”

“Oh please, darling. Thank you.”

He went to pour Wynona a mug of this new concoction he’d discovered and handed it to her.

The woman took a sip from the steaming brew. She perked up. “Oh my lord, this is so good! Where did you get this?”

“It’s made from cat shit.”

Wynona was arrested from taking another sip.
“Excuse moi?”

“Cat shit.”

She put her hand on her hip and looked at him sternly. “Gianfranco, please don’t start with your pranks so early in the morning.”

“I’m not kidding. It’s really made from cat shit. Tastes good huh?”

She grimaced. “You can’t be serious! Ugh!”

He chuckled. “I know for a fact that you can get down and dirty,
bellisima.

She rolled her eyes. “Since it didn’t kill you, I guess I can forget where it came from, but you’ve got to tell me more about it later.” She took another sip and shook her head in wonder. “Hmm, good lord, shit definitely turned to gold.”

He winked at her.

“Giane.” Damon called out to him, just coming off of a phone conversation.

“What?”

“She canceled your bid.”

“Huh?”

“Valenna Jones. She turned down your bid.”

He froze, not comprehending at first.

Canceled? Turned down?

Then it registered.

She said no. To HIM?! After riding his cock last night he would have popped her cherry right there and then if he hadn’t stopped like a gentleman?

He had lost a lot recently.

But this particular loss, he couldn’t take.

NO. FUCKING. WAY.

TAKE OVER

THERE WAS ALWAYS A FIRST TIME FOR FOLLIES OF THIS KIND
.

Giane couldn’t believe he was in the Rod Laver Arena to watch a fucking concert.

A pop concert!

He smiled at the irony of it. The crazy things Valenna Jones made him do in just two days. He won the bid fair and square and she gave him her word last night, but the little witch reneged on their deal.

Now, here he was, honoring her with his maiden attendance in a fucking pop concert.

Titus was beside him looking excited. If he didn’t know Titus to be a hard-core assassin before he’d hired him to be his bodyguard, he’d think he was a fan of Valenna. Or maybe he was one of those men fantasizing about her virginity. The thought didn’t sit well with him. Men had to stop fantasizing about Valenna. Ergo, he had to really pop her.

Tonight.

He adjusted the hoodie over his head, careful not to be recognized. His Australian fan base was huge. He’d be mobbed right away if he removed his hoodie and one-way mirrored glasses.

He couldn’t sit still all day as he finished all his business engagements. When he told Damon and Wynona he’d be watching Valenna’s concert, they both looked like they’d have a seizure, especially Wynona who was by then enlightened about his exorbitant cherry shopping spree. But he told them he was the fucking boss and he could damn well do whatever he wanted with his money. That shut them up. Titus, however, was eager to do his duties.

There was no opening act tonight so the concert would start earlier at 7 PM. He knew why. Valenna would meet up with her potential cherry poppers after the show and choose from them.

He won’t be one of her choices.

The little bitch. He couldn’t believe she turned him down.

She misled him with her strawberry kisses. Played him like a fool.

No one took him for a ride and got away with it. Not even this little bundle of cockteaser adored by millions around the world.

The lights suddenly went out.

The crowd roared.

Giane actually found himself holding his breath.

A lone spotlight suddenly flooded the elevated center of the stage. A drum roll began, filling the air, getting louder and louder until it was pounding the entire stadium.

Pyrotechnics exploded.

A white figure suddenly jumped out of nowhere like a projected missile.

His heart skipped a few beats.

Cazzo!
Is that HER?!

The figure landed on her feet in perfect balance, as if she had done that stunt a thousand times before. He could see her clearly from where he stood in the best part of the arena.

It was her, alright. A dazzling vision in white. A fucking bride! A shimmering white, long veil cascaded from the back of her head, her eye-popping cleavage pushed up by her cleverly designed wedding gown displaying sexy shoulders and arms. Her waist was so small, cinched so tightly he wondered if she could still breathe. The short front hem of her gown that tapered in loose folds at the back showed her endless legs clad in some mean-looking black boots criss-crossing thigh-high.

A virgin bride looking like a dominatrix.

The contrast was staggering to his senses. She looked badass up there. A badass virgin.

Fuck if he was not hard like the chassis of his sports car again. Titanium hard.
Maddon!

“Valeneans of Oz!!!” shouted the bride.

The audience responded with a collective roar.

Her music started to play.

Giane was rooted to the spot, his eyes never leaving her as she moved up the stage, her voice filling his senses like high-octane fuel, revving him up, up, up until he was a mass of throbbing, full-blown erection in the middle of her thousands of screaming fans.

How in the name of the nine levels of hell could she not choose THIS boner over the others?

Valenna had mastered the stages
of the biggest arenas in the world. This was her third world tour and she’d performed in this stage many times. She had perfected this routine but she missed her cue almost a dozen times already, prompting her choreographer, who was also one of her lead dancers to slap her butt playfully during their segment together to tell her to concentrate. She hoped nobody noticed her bloopers. She just couldn’t focus. Her mind was elsewhere. Maybe she’d messed up her lyrics too.

Frosh, she needed to get her act together or she’d get dissed by her detractors again. There were too many of them all over the world and news traveled through fiber optics nowadays. She was in Oz but gossip would crop up in America faster than she could spell shit and multiply at the speed of light. She was even caught picking her nose once and it was big news in the Philippines. People over there had a lot of time in their hands to marvel at her booger. Yup, she was THAT hot.

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