He'd tried escaping a few times just so he could get some peace (although his definition of peace usually meant squandering women at night, doing vigorous bedroom exercises with them), but Ulysses had always seemed to catch up to him.
Flicking the phone closed again, he got up, shuffled on his dirty clothes from last night, and made his way out the door while saying, "Sorry, Maisy, gotta go." "It's Mary!" he heard her shriek as he pulled the door closed. Logan chuckled.
Lord, he loved one-night stands. Even if those women got pissed with him, he would never have to face them again anyway. That was the beauty of it.
He didn't have to deal with the heartbreak, heartache, or midnight blues. Logan had just one rule. Girls were like bed sheets—best changed every night. With the world at his fingertips, he got a chance at any girl he chose.
It was like a variety of women presented to him on a silver tray. Chuckling at the thought, he slid into his red Ferrari, slammed the door shut, and drove off at a dangerously high speed. He owned the road.
Driving on the open road cleared his head a bit. When he saw the gate to Bloembergen Estate, an isolated area protected by guards all around, he swiveled the car to a brief stop to say hello to Chase, their security guard, then slowed to park outside the main entrance of Bloembergen Mansion after a further five-minute drive-in.
Bloembergen Mansion was a colossal estate, covering many thousands of hectares. There were vineyards and orchards all around and a stream in front, boasting a scenic view year-round.
The Bloembergens owned many businesses. Under the parent umbrella, Bloembergen Enterprises, founded by his father Liam Bloembergen, they owned department stores, farmlands, and various real estate, but his father's specialty was hotels. At the moment, they owned one in every city of New Zealand and Hawaii.
But Logan couldn't understand his father's mind. With the amount of wealth he owned, why did his father choose to live in New Zealand, a country that was even smaller than the state of California? Not to mention the weather could sometimes be temperamental too.
Breathing a sigh of satisfaction after having not been to Bloembergen Estate for a good month, since most of the time he was cooped up in his private apartment in Central Auckland, Logan stepped out of the car.
Before he could fully straighten, a big golden terrier ran and tackled him. "Hey, Dora." Logan scratched the dog's ear as he rolled around on the ground. "Long time, no see, little bro."
In response, the dog just lay near Logan's feet, wagging his tail, his tongue lopped out on one side in satisfaction. "Logan!" A deep voice sounded from inside the house. "Crap!" he uttered. When he looked up, he saw his father heading his way. "Hey, Dad. How's life on this side of the equator?"