Page 1 of The Billionaire's Bad News Baby

CHAPTER 1

ELIO

Manhattan had never looked brighter. Even this late into the night, it seemed to Elio that everything was sparkling and giving off light in a special sort of way that never happened during daylight hours.

He was watching the party from a little nook he had found for himself in the penthouse suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out across the city, lights everywhere far below, mirroring the stars above. And inside was just as glittering. Crystal glasses shone as people sipped their drinks, diamond rings and pearl necklaces reflecting the soft lights from above. Even guests’ smiles seemed to be shining as they talked, ate, drank and laughed in a dizzying blur of golden luxury.

Elio stayed in his partially private nook, wishing he could go home. More accurately, if he was going to be working — and this party definitely counted as work — he at least wanted to be at the office instead of here. At least then he could be productive. He could look over the latest international supply contracts that had come through or prepare for the meeting he had with his advertising team later in the week. That would be useful. That would, at the very least, be interesting.

Unfortunately, it was his party for his company, so there was an obligation to be there. His work might be his life, but he didn’t enjoy this side of it. Showing up, smiling, doing the rounds of handshakes and kisses on cheeks. It felt unproductive. His product could speak for itself; organically grown grapes from the heart of Italy, distilled and matured to perfection and poured into wine glasses for his guests. He’d named this newest incarnation Oro — Italian for gold — because that’s exactly what it was. It was the best. But there were expectations, the main one being that he actually showed up, looked halfway enthused and gave a speech and a toast.

The smell of wine was dizzying, glasses full of rich, red liquid in everyone’s hand. Despite the itch to leave and be alone for a while, Elio found himself smiling, just a little. It was satisfying to finally see the product in people's hands, delighting everyone’s taste buds. There were plenty of wineries around the world with an innumerable number of wines at everyone’s fingertips, but it was something special to be one of the best. Elio split his time between New York and Italy, not only running the business side of things but also making sure to be at the vineyards in person to make sure the product was perfect.

No matter how much he tried to hide in plain sight, it wasn’t easy for Elio to fade into the background. He was taller than most people, and olive-skinned thanks to the Italian blood in his veins. Along with his dark hair and ice-blue eyes, he cut a striking figure, especially at a party wearing a custom pinstripe suit. Already he’d had several women approach him this evening, looking for who knew what. A date? A relationship? A bit of attention? That was all fine. He complimented their dresses and then made excuses and found another corner to hide in. They were probably very nice ladies; they were certainly beautiful. But he didn’t have time for a relationship. He barely had time to breathe most days.

There were plenty of familiar faces in the crowd, but Elio caught sight of one that he knew better than all the rest. Marc, his lawyer and the man responsible for overseeing pretty much every contract that passed through Elio’s life and business, had done the rounds of the room several times. Marc was a master of small talk and flattery. He was probably out there scoping out who had actually shown up versus who had declined to attend, gathering gossip and information with the subtlety of a pickpocket. Which were all reasons why Elio had hired the man, so he could keep his hands clean and his privacy intact while Marc had the time of his life wallowing in the shallows. Soon enough, Marc found him in his corner, a glass of wine in hand and a satisfied smile on his face.

“You look very pleased with yourself,” Elio said as Marc stopped beside him.

“Oh, I am,” said Marc, taking a polite sip of his drink. “I’ve had quite an interesting evening.”

“Care to share with the class?”

“Everyone loves Oro, Elio, but you knew that already.”

Elio allowed himself a moment of smug pride. The product was good enough that he had been sure it would stand on its own two feet, but still, it was always nice to have the validation.

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “But not all that interesting.”

“Plenty of other businessmen have been chattering away,” Marc said in a conspiratorial tone, talking just loud enough to be heard over the music and buzz of the crowd. “Those gentlemen are not so happy about how good the wine is.”

“But they still admit that it’s good?” Now that was music to Elio’s ears. Marc waggled his eyebrows, equally pleased.

“They all know it’s amazing. That’s why they’re all going to stare daggers at you when you get up on that platform and make a speech.”

Elio groaned. “Do I really have to?”

“You sound like a ten-year-old.”

“Ten-year-olds have some valid points sometimes, you know.”

“You’ll be fine,” Marc said dismissively and patted him on the shoulder. “Just relish how mad you’re about to make your competition. Bask in the glory of all those sour faces. Go on and get it over with.”

Without further ado, Marc gave him a good shove and sent Elio flying from the safety of his corner. Several people noticed his rather abrupt entrance back into the main space, so there was no more room for retreat. Elio gave them all polite smiles and greetings and wove his way through the crowd towards the dais where the band was performing to make some sort of speech, cursing Marc the whole time. He hoped the man would at least get a killer hangover tomorrow morning for making Elio do this when a press release would just as easily do the job.

Hating every second, Elio walked up the single stair onto the musicians’ dais and motioned for them to pause for a second. God, even they were looking up at him expectantly, waiting to hear what he was going to say. As the crowd heard the silence, they turned and saw him standing there, the entire room now focusing its attention on him like some lethal laser beam.

Elio took a moment to try and find his voice, which had promptly run away from the attention, and desperately hoped that it looked like he was simply building suspense. He spotted Marc by the edge of the crowd, who raised his glass to him with a reassuring nod.

Fast, simple and elegant, Elio told himself. That’s all you need. There doesn’t need to be substance when image is everything.

Collecting himself with his best showman’s smile, Elio faced the crowd and raised his glass to the expectant faces.

“Good evening, everyone,” he said, his voice flowing through the room. “I’ll keep this short and sweet. The success of our new Oro line has been humbling, to say the least…”

A rough cough came from the middle of the crowd, interrupting Elio’s focus. A few more words and he would be done. Then he could step down and retreat.

“Uh, so I wanted to say thank you to everyone attending tonight…”

---