Chapter 1 TommáZ Walker

• Enora Miller
• Looking at the Eiffel Tower while sipping my tea with some biscuits is just to gather my thoughts on how I can help Tom let go of this libertine life he cherishes so much.
• He needs to become a man with family responsibilities. Even though Noely manages to Miller and still manages to create such incredible pieces that are always in the spotlight during fashion week, I can't let everything fall on my daughter's shoulders.
• I need my Tommáz to show interest in managing the companies here. Larissa hasn't shown interest in the company, as she herself says; her focus is on the board she runs with an iron fist at Walker, which fills me with pride for my granddaughter. As for Ethan, I know he will excel in leading Walker in Chicago.
• "I know that look, my mother-in-law," I hear the sweet voice of my daughter-in-law Emily, snapping me out of the reveries of a tired mind.
• "Thinking of how to make Tom want to lead Miller and leave behind this womanizing life he leads," I say, looking into the green eyes of my son's wife, who ends up bursting into laughter.
• "My mother-in-law, you have a huge sense of humor..." She continues to laugh at what I said. "We've tried everything to make this boy a little more responsible."
• A plan begins to form in my head as I look at my laughing daughter-in-law. One thing I know about my grandchildren is that none of them want the family fortune to fall into the wrong hands. They would all prefer to lose both hands than lose control of the family businesses, except for Noely. She only cares about setting trends; whether her father's company is under family control or not is irrelevant to her.
• "I know what I'll do!" I exclaim, silencing my daughter-in-law, who looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to share my idea. "I'll modify my will and leave the company only to the married heirs. That will pique my grandson's interest even more, especially since Elisa is the only one getting married. My grandson won't accept being left out of the inheritance."
• "I don't believe it will work, Enora. Tom is competitive, but he values his libertine lifestyle too much!" My daughter-in-law's comment earns a dismissive click of my tongue.
• "It seems you don't know my grandson. The plan will work, so get ready; he'll go crazy looking for a bride," I retort confidently, as she laughs again.
• "I'll take that bet and double it with you, ma'am," I see my daughter-in-law extending her hand to me, and I take it firmly.
• I'll turn my grandson into a responsible man and even get some extra money out of my beloved daughter-in-law.
• "Mrs. Miller, the salon team has just arrived!" My housekeeper informs me.
• "Let's go, Emy, it's time to get ready for our event," I say, getting up from the chair and pulling my daughter-in-law towards my room, which has turned into a makeshift salon.
• Tommáz Walker
• I swiveled my chair towards the large glass wall that occupied the entire room on the top floor of the Walker Corporation. Finally, my father Noah was entrusting the company to my command. Even though he claims it's just a bet, I love my parents and I know he trusts me. But I'm still not ready to fulfill their biggest wish.
• Marriage!
• Just thinking about it sends a shiver of foreboding down my spine. It's not that I don't believe in the institution of marriage; in fact, I see that those around me have done very well. Looking at my parents and my uncles, Mike and Emma, they are all extremely happy in their marriages.
• But I love my life, having a different woman every night, and I don't want, nor plan, to tie myself down to just one anytime soon. I can't see myself living the life of a one-woman man.
• Even though I know I've caused quite a stir with the press in recent years, always being photographed with a different woman, which led me to buy a separate apartment for my casual encounters in the same building where I have my main apartment.
• My personal assistant couldn't stand cleaning up the mess I always made after a night of revelry, so she suggested I have a slaughterhouse a few floors below, and so I did.
• Unfortunately, this Friday, I won't have my usual pleasure, as soon as I leave the company, I'm heading straight to the airport to meet up with the family to enjoy Fashion Week in Paris, which is great. I'll take advantage of some of the world's best models to have an orgy.
• The empire my father began has grown even larger, and under my command in recent months, it has expanded to the point where it was necessary to create a branch in Italy. The Spa with the Lancelloti has evolved into a chain of hotels and wineries. Today, we have a small share of the profits from Lancellot, just as my father did with the late Mr. Pierre, and his son Pietro took over everything and made it flourish.
• "Still here, Tom?" I turned my chair towards the voice of my best friend, Kevin.
• "Yeah, just finished looking over the balance sheets. I was about to head out," I said, smiling at him. "So, are you coming with us or do you prefer to go with my uncles on Tuesday?" I ask, hoping he'll agree to come with me.
• "I'll come with you guys, but I need to pack my stuff," I roll my eyes at my friend, who's practically a cousin.
• I grab my phone and belongings, call my parents. I know they won't mind waiting while Kevin gets ready to catch the same flight.
• For my parents, my uncle Mike and aunt Emma's children are an extension of our own family, since we all grew up together and practically went to the same school.
• We leave the company, and I head with my friend to his apartment. Unfortunately, we don't live in the same building. He was given an apartment a few floors below his parents' own apartment the day after he arrived, so drunk that he annoyed my aunt so much she decided to put him in his own space, much to the irritation of my cousins who still live under the same roof as my uncles.
• With an hour's delay, we arrived at the airport. We board the small aircraft, and I make my way towards my mother, whom I haven't seen in almost a week. She's been so involved with my cousin Elisa's wedding that she's practically been in Paris more than at home.
• "Hey, Mom, why didn't you stay there?" I ask, kissing her forehead and hugging her, missing her.
• "Because your mother has a husband who missed her in bed," I roll my eyes at my dad, who doesn't mind sharing their intimacies in front of the family, making everyone feel embarrassed.
• "Gee, Dad, nobody needs to know that you two still go at it like rabbits," I joke, getting a laugh out of my dad, who pulls me into a hug.
• "Cut it out, kid. How do you think you were made?" he asks with an ironic smile. "Let's save this topic for another time. Hi, Kevin," my dad extends his hand to my friend and hugs him.
• I take the seat next to my brother Ethan, who's busy with some charts and, apparently, not very pleased with what he sees.
• I chat with everyone, and finally, our flight is cleared for takeoff. I take the opportunity to catch up on things and listen to each of my mother's complaints, as I'm sure she'll complain once again about being photographed with the actress starring in the new Marvel superhero movie, which was filming in Chicago.
• We arrived in Paris and headed to the Miller family mansion. Calling it a home is almost an understatement; the mansion boasts nothing less than fifteen bedrooms, all to ensure we wouldn't be separated when we came to Grandma Enora's house. I'm sure she'll scold me in the morning when I come down for breakfast.
• But now it's time to spend some of our energy. I invited Kevin to go to the Moulin Rouge, the most iconic cabaret in Paris, but there's an exclusive entrance just for high society.
• A strip club, mostly filled with sensual dancers for some businessmen, but there are also escorts who are willing to provide pleasure to their clients. I've had my fair share of encounters with some world-renowned models, right here, on these plush velvet seats.
• As we enter through the dark doors hidden behind sophisticated decor, the atmosphere turns dim. The second show of the night is underway, with loud music and low lights making it hard to see where we're going.
• I walk slowly between some armchairs, careful not to step on anyone's toes as they enjoy the performance of a model who, if not for the mask, I'd swear I knew.
• I lead Kevin into the private lounge with a mini bar at our disposal. I start scanning the women walking around the salon with trays offering champagne flutes or whiskey glasses.
• I continue to watch the masked showgirl, her charm intriguing me. The mask with a peacock feathers extending above her head prevent me from determining the color of her hair, adding to the mystery. I have the feeling I've seen her somewhere before. Perhaps I'll invite her for a night and find out where I know her from.
• "I want that one," Kevin points to a redhead wearing a Venetian mask. She's very beautiful, with a body reminiscent of Brazilian women, curves in all the right places, ample breasts, and a perky butt. I notice when my friend signals to the waiter, who's slowly making his way towards us.
• "Good evening, gentlemen, how may I assist you?" the waiter greets us.
• "I'd like to invite the Venetian to our box, of course, if she's willing to provide pleasure," Kevin speaks with his eyes fixed on the woman.
• "I believe the Venetian has already been requested, sir. We have some others if you'd like to check..." my friend interrupts the waiter's speech.
• "Tell her I'll double the offer," the waiter nods, and before he leaves, I call out to him.
• "The main dancer, is she available for selection?" I ask with interest, looking directly at the woman on stage, gracefully performing her pole dance routine.
• "No, she's new here, but I can inquire if she's interested in an exclusive arrangement," the waiter responds. I nod, keeping my gaze on the unknown woman.
• She dances, showcasing a slim waist and a sway that's getting me hard. I watch as the waiter approaches the stage, catching her attention. From what I can see, he gestures in our direction. I notice her shaking her head. The waiter then nods to the woman with the peacock mask and approaches the redhead, who nods in agreement. We watch her head towards another door, which, as far as I can remember, leads to small suites. My friend, the jerk, gets up with a smirk, mocking the rejection I received, and heads towards the redhead who caught his eye.
• I continue to watch the blonde who turned me down, trying to ease the growing hardness in my pants. The vixen notices my gaze and starts to sway her hips in my direction, wearing white lingerie that resembles one of my aunt's creations.
• "Fuck it, I'll have you as soon as you leave that stage," I mutter, leaving my box and heading towards the bar near the stage exit.
• I keep my eyes on the woman, who continues to dance. From the way her head turns towards my box, she seems to be searching for me. The music ends, and I watch her bid farewell to the various clients, who are practically salivating or being pleasured by other women. I see her bend down to pick up the numerous tips offered to her for her performance.
• She steps down from the stage, and as she passes behind me, I grab her wrist, startling her with my intrusion into her space. But at that moment, I didn't care about anything else. She spent the rest of her dance enticing me, so she'll continue to do so in one of these rooms.
• "Come!" Her blue eyes are the only thing I can see behind the mask.
• I feel her resistance, and I look at her face. If the light were a bit brighter, I could swear there was a sparkle in her eyes.
• "No! You're the one coming with me!" A satisfied smile at the shift in power crosses my face.
• She pulls me towards one of the private rooms with a green lamp above the lock, and we enter. I hear her lock the door, leaving the room dimly lit by only the LEDs on the bed.
• "What do you desire from me, sir?" I hear her ask.
• "I want everything..." I say as I feel her hands getting closer to my body. When she reaches for her mask, her delicate fingers stop me.
• "I'll give you everything, but you can't see me. I'll be just a faceless, nameless memory in your mind, one among the many you've had, Mr. Walker." The damned woman knows me.
• "I have an idea. Blindfold me, and I'll taste the flavor of your lips," she lowers her head, considering my proposal.
• "Alright," she backs away and searches for something on a table I hadn't noticed before.
• I watch her approach me with a blindfold in her hands. I glance at her lower lip and her chin, all I can see of her face. She stretches the blindfold over my head, leaving me unable to see what she'll do next.
• The blindfold makes me anxious, feeling like a captive to this petite woman's desires. Her hands move to my face as she plays with the hair on my chest. I reach out and find her slim, delicate neck. Gently, I touch her face and realize she's no longer wearing the mask. I smile and pull her into a kiss.
• Just because I'm a libertine doesn't mean I don't enjoy making love to all of them. I'm a caring man, even if they're only for one night. I always want them to remember they were once mine.
• Our lips meet, and the sweet taste of something she drank sends a frenzy through me. My feet follow her movements, and I wrap my arms around her waist, causing her to fall on top of me, all while continuing to kiss her soft lips.
• Tonight, she'll meet Tommáz Walker, and she'll be the one who never forgets me.