"Oh my god, it's perfect!"
Chloe squealed, her eyes wide with delight.
She bounced on her toes, causing the freshly inked numbers to dance across her skin
Brandon couldn't help but grin, a mix of pride and amusement washing over him.
He'd done it - his first autograph, unconventional as it was.
Pierre let out a low whistle, clapping Brandon on the back.
"Smooth... Very rock star of you."
Chloe beamed at Brandon, her eyes sparkling with admiration.
"Thank you so much! I'll never wash this off," she declared, carefully buttoning up her blouse to preserve the autograph.
As Chloe skipped away, her giggles trailing behind her like a star-struck melody, Brandon felt a surge of confidence course through his veins.
This was just the beginning.
He turned to Pierre, a newfound determination in his eyes.
"So," he said, twirling the marker between his fingers. "About that hypercar..."
Pierre's eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Well, well. Look who's excited ready to embrace the high life."
He gestured grandly at the showroom.
"Take your pick. We've got Koenigseggs and Paganis that are practically works of art, and Bugattis that-"
He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Actually, speaking of Bugattis..."
Brandon raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"What about them?"
"That little stunt you pulled just now," Pierre chuckled, nodding towards where Chloe had disappeared.
"Very slick, by the way. '13' as in "B" - clever."
"Oh?" Brandon tried to keep his voice casual, but curiosity gnawed at him.
Pierre leaned in conspiratorially.
"There's this Bugatti Mistral coming up for auction later. Get this - it's numbered 13 out of 99 made."
Brandon's eyes widened.
"No way."
"Way," Pierre grinned. "After that autograph? It's practically calling your name!"
======
[ Walton Private Helicopter ]
In the back of Joyce's private helicopter, the hum of the rotors filled the air, a steady rhythm that seemed to vibrate through the plush seats.
Joyce reclined in her seat, her plump cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, glazed with a cocktail of pleasure and annoyance.
"Nghh~ Can you believe Brandon would just poof! disappear and pop up out of nowhere and not even have the decency to give me a call?" she complained, her words breathy.
"I mean, we grew up together!"
A stud, his muscles rippling beneath his tanned skin, emerged from beneath her dress, his face glistening.
"Can we not talk about another man for a minute?" he murmured, his voice muffled.
"Makes it hard to concentrate."
Joyce leaned forward, her fingers gently caressing his face.
"Aww, someone's getting jealous, is he?" she cooed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
The stud looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration.
"You know I only want to make you happy, Mistress," he said, his voice soft and mushy.
Joyce's expression abruptly shifted, her eyes hardening.
*SLAP!*
She delivered a sharp slap across his face, the sound echoing in the helicopter cabin.
"Know your place," she snapped.
"You're nothing but one of my little whores."
She signaled to her personal female bodyguard, who tossed a life jacket into the boytoy's arms.
The guard slid open the helicopter door, revealing the vast ocean below.
Joyce nodded, and the guard kicked the boytoy out.
"AHHHHH~! ," his scream swallowed by the roar of the rotors.
Joyce casually fixed her bright orange summer dress, smoothing it down as if nothing had happened.
"Send a boat to get him," she said, her voice calm and collected.
"But cut him off. I don't want to see him again."
Minutes later, the sleek helicopter descended onto one of the three helipads adorning the duPont Mega Yacht.
As the rotors slowed, a vision of elegance emerged on the deck below.
Elise stood waiting, a statue of Aphrodite come to life.
Her arms were crossed, not in defensiveness, but as if containing a power that threatened to overwhelm mere mortals. Against the backdrop of the sparkling sea, she was more than beautiful - she was otherworldly, a siren whose song could lead empires to ruin.
Her bikini hugged her curves in all the right places, a gossamer scarf draped low on her hips.
The wind from the helicopter's blades whipped her luscious blonde hair, creating a halo effect that only accentuated her ethereal beauty.
Her porcelain skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, drawing attention to her high cheekbones and piercing eyes.
As soon as the helicopter touched down, Joyce burst out, her arms spread wide, her face beaming with excitement.
"Come here, my dear ice queen!" she squealed, barreling towards Elise.
A rare smile graced Elise's face as she uncrossed her arms, accepting Joyce's enthusiastic embrace.
Joyce pulled back, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Well, well, well. Look who's early for once in her life. Could it be because of a certain prince charming?"
Elise's cheeks flushed ever so slightly, but she maintained her composure.
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, her voice cool and controlled.
She turned on her heel, leading Joyce towards a flight of carpeted steps.
"The party's already starting. We should join them."
Joyce giggled, following close behind.
"Oh, come on! You can't fool me. I saw that little blush you slut."
They descended the steps, emerging onto a private platform that overlooked the pool area.
Below, the yacht's deck was alive with music, laughter, and the splash of water.
Guests in designer swimwear mingled around the pool, drinks in hand.
Elise and Joyce made their way to a plush seating area in the center of the platform.
The oversized white leather sofas were adorned with vibrant turquoise and coral throw pillows, juxtaposed to the rowdy pool party they were overlooking. A low sapphire table sat in the center, its surface gleaming in the sunlight.
As they settled into the cushions, two waitresses approached, their sailor hats perched jauntily atop their heads.
Their uniforms, if one could call them that, left little to the imagination - cropped translucent white tops and impossibly short blue shorts.
Each carried a silver tray balanced expertly on one hand, champagne flutes fizzing with golden liquid.
"Your champagne, mi'ladies," one of the waitresses said, her voice sweet as she offered the tray.
Elise and Joyce each took a glass, the cool crystal a stark contrast to the warm sea air.
They had barely taken a sip when a commotion from nearby stairs caught their attention.
Devon sauntered down the steps, his presence impossible to ignore.
His durag-covered head bobbed to an inaudible beat, designer sunglasses masking eyes that probably thought they were cooler than the rest of the world combined.
A thick gold chain swung from his neck like a pendulum of questionable taste, distracting from baggy shorts hung low, revealing Calvin Klein boxers.
"Yo yo, whaddup ma' bitches!" he exclaimed, arms spread wide as he bounded towards them.
He leaped, aiming to land dramatically on the sofa opposite Elise and Joyce.
But his grand entrance was cut short as a coral pillow flew through the air, smacking him square in the face just as he touched down.
Elise's eyes narrowed, her voice as sharp as ice.
"Play wannabe hoodlum all you want, but call me a bitch again and I'll pull off your gold chain and your neck along with it."