LOGINAnyone can ask for a favor from Fortune 500 pharmaceutical heiress, Camille Delacourt, who has the city of New York wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers and rules it with an iron fist. Dealing out social ruin and favours in equal measure, every request comes at a cost and once the deed is done you're forever in her debt. But when a seemingly crude Italian business owner looking to expand his ventures into American markets arrives with a preposition she can't turn down, things take an interesting twist.
View More⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀CAPRINicolo De Rossi may have come from a family often referred to as the Italian Rockefellers, but he was not a man who went out of his way to act like he did.In fact, save the condo in Lombardy which he’d purchased at a listing of 7.5 million euros he could not say for sure if truly there was ever a time he’d gone out of his way to splurge on anything.He had an expensive car and chauffer of course, but these had come with his job; and all of his clothes were purchased by his sister-in-law and best friend, Aria Xaviera Fiorentini De Rossi (or just Aria, really), who paid no mind to his offers of reimbursement, claiming he already did so much for the family and that she would never speak to him again if she so much as heard he’d wired her money; and then every few weeks his father had foodstuff delivered to him in quantities so large he had to give the household staff permission to take whatever it was they need
A woman sat at the bar of the Deluxe with a vacant, far-off expression on her face as if she was not really there. Like she’d upped and left her body behind to fill itself with alcohol until it could take no more.This was the state in which Camille found her best friend.Octavia Tang Carmichael had an ethereal quality about her even sporting a pageboy haircut. Much of it had to do with her fine-boned face, how it happened to be an almost perfect combination of both Eastern and Western features like her name suggested—a pouty mouth, wide brown eyes so dark they looked black in some lights, and slanting cheekbones.Simply put, she looked like a sad beautiful porcelain doll.It was this image that struck Camille when they first met in Paris during their debut at Les Bal des Débutante, where a madness settled into her and did not leave until she’d done the sketch of
“You and you, switch spots!”Morgan Pierce’s clear tenor rang through the Museum of Modern Art’s Sculpture Garden and a Canon camera hung precariously in a limp-wristed hand as the two girls he’d spoken to obeyed, changing positions just like he’d told them to.“Yes, yes,” the photographer said with a satisfied smile. He squinted, raised the camera to an eye. “Now pose!”Click. Click. Click. Morgan stopped, looked up.“Give me life,” he ordered. “Give me sensual. Give me avant-garde!”Click. Click.“Perfect!”He continued to speak as his shutter went off.Camille found she could not stop the gut reaction that came only so naturally to her in that moment: an eye roll.Two years as Editor-in-Chief of Bon Vivant New York had still no
Courtesy demanded that Nico should’ve walked straight to the boardroom as soon as he arrived, but his lift up the cramped metal box had—for the second time that morning it seemed—triggered his fear of enclosed spaces, so that by the time he stumbled out muttering a halfhearted goodbye to Timothy the intern, it was all he could do to fight against the irrational panic.Already, his breaths had begun coming out in shallow audible bursts.Nico needed a pick-me-up, but his tight schedule hadn’t afforded him time to indulge in one of his favorite pre-work rituals which involved brewing himself an Espresso and savoring it as soon as he got back from one of his jogs.He couldn’t risk facing the Board of Directors feeling as disoriented as he did, understood he had to pull himself together.The CEO of the De Rossi group gave short replies to everyone he met on the way to his office, sharing a passing nod with one of t



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