Chapter 11: Welcome to Miami

The day had finally come.

I was leaving Texas for Miami, stepping into a world of luxury, secrecy, and high-stakes pleasure. As I packed my bag, I kept thinking about Isabella DeLuca, the woman who would be paying me a fortune for a month of my time. She's going to drain the hell out of me, I muttered under my breath, shaking my head with a smirk.

Time was running, and I had to move fast. I made it to the airport, cleared security, and boarded my flight just in time. That's when things took an interesting turn.

My seatmate.

She was gorgeous, smooth caramel skin, piercing green eyes, and lips that looked like they belonged in a high-end beauty magazine. She was dressed in a silk blouse that hugged her body just right, and her perfume? Intoxicating.

I had no intention of speaking to her, not at first. My mind was already busy thinking about how I was going to spend the night with the mayor's wife. Just the thought of her the way she looked in those pictures Sandra gave me had my body reacting before I could even stop it.

That's when I noticed her eyes on me.

At first, I thought she was just staring at me, but then I followed her gaze and realized my dick was standing tall, bold, and unashamed.

She gasped softly, quickly looking away, but not before I caught a hint of curiosity in her expression.

I smirked.

"You okay?" I finally broke the silence, turning slightly towards her.

She hesitated for a second, then chuckled, shaking her head. "You… you don't even realize, do you?"

"Realize what?" I asked, playing dumb.

She bit her lip, eyes flickering down briefly before meeting mine again. "Never mind."

We both knew what she was talking about.

The tension between us was instant.

She introduced herself, Blu.

I liked the way the name rolled off my tongue. Different. Mysterious. I told her my name, and from there, the conversation just flowed. We talked about Miami, about traveling, about things we liked and things we wanted to try. The way she looked at me, I knew she was already under my spell.

By the time we landed, we had exchanged numbers, and I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time I'd see her.

But for now, I had other business to attend to.

Miami.

The moment I stepped outside the airport, I felt the difference. The air was warm, thick with the scent of salt and the ocean breeze. Palm trees lined the streets, and the energy was electric fast cars, beautiful women, and a city that never seemed to sleep.

I stopped a cab and gave the driver the address.

"Nice spot," he commented, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "That area is exclusive. Whoever you're visiting, they got money."

I smirked. You have no idea.

The drive took an hour, but when we finally pulled up, I was left speechless.

The house wasn't just a house, it was a masterpiece.

A massive beachside villa, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, sleek modern architecture, and a private stretch of sand leading straight to the ocean. The kind of place only the richest of the rich could afford.

I paid the driver and stepped out, taking in the scene.

Before I could even press the doorbell, the gate swung open.

Someone was expecting me.

I walked in, my footsteps silent against the polished marble driveway. The inside was even crazier, white walls, gold accents, a chandelier that looked like it cost more than my entire college tuition.

I called out.

"Hello?"

Silence.

Then I heard it, footsteps. Slow, deliberate, descending the stairs.

I turned around.

And there she was.

Isabella DeLuca.

If I thought she was fine in pictures, it was nothing compared to seeing her in real life. She was elegance wrapped in seduction, long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, piercing blue eyes that held secrets I wanted to uncover, and curves that were dangerous.

She was wearing a silky robe that barely hid the body beneath it.

Her lips curled into a slow smile as she looked me up and down.

"So," she said, her voice smooth like honey. "You're the famous Frank Bliss."

I smirked, stepping closer. "And you must be Isabella."

She tilted her head, eyes lingering on me. "I've heard… a lot about you."

I chuckled. "I hope all good things."

She stepped even closer, her scent hitting me, expensive, intoxicating.

"Only one way to find out," she murmured.

The tension in the room was thick, electric.

This was going to be one hell of a month.