The Billionaire Prick

Copyright © 2021 Bethel-Gold.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed "Attention: Permissions Coordinator," at the address below.

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author's imagination.

* * *

The dark room was dimly lit by the two lamps that were sitting at each of the bedside tables, the moon did little to gracing the room with its night lights from the window.

The bed is covered by a black-colored comforter and a white bedspread, on top of the bed is a crumpled shirt, a black jean trouser and a shoe. The headboard held the same color as the comforter, including the curtains and other cushions in the room.

"You bastard" the blond woman in a red revealing nightdress that was standing at the head of the king-sized bed, picked up her heels that were laying some meters away from her and threw one of them across the room.

The young handsome black-haired man in only his dark jeans, moved to the side to dodge the heel and let out a sigh.

“Look, Angela, we can talk about this, please just stop thro-” his words were interrupted by the lamp that crashed just inches to his face.

With wide-opened eyes, he looked to the wall that just took the crash and then back to the fuming woman who was breathing so hard as she glared at him.

It pissed him off.

‘What the hell is wrong with her?’ he asked himself and instead of lashing out like he wanted to, he closed his eyes and took in deep breaths then slowly let them out to calm his anger.

Now isn’t the time to get angry because from his experience with the female gender, getting angry when she is angry or even provoking her when she is on ‘rage stage’ is a bad idea.

“My name isn’t Angela you prick” she screamed then threw a pen in his direction and he caught it.

She was now looking around her to see what next, she could throw at him when he began speaking.

“Okay, Natalie let--” he was stopped by her second heel that met with his face in a hard blow.

Now he is furious.

“Prevail, my name is Prevail, you bas-” she stopped when she saw the angry-possessed man walking in her direction in quick steps.

There wasn’t any time to escape since he was already standing in front of her and was now holding her both wrists in a tight grip.

“I said that we will settle this Prevail, am I clear?” he asked not remembering what needed settlement.

He needed her out of the penthouse he was presently occupying so that he could have his night rest and later in the morning he could check the damage she caused to his face.

He had brought her in earlier but stopped because he wasn’t feeling it and she went all ballistic on him.

He let go of her wrist and pushed her lightly to the bed then took out his wallet from his back pocket and threw all the money inside.

“Here is your pay, now get lost,” he tells her and she immediately grabs the money and scurries away from his room.

He sat on the bed and put his face in his palm then let out a deep sigh and wondered if women knew the meaning of a ‘no-string attached’ fling.

“Never have an overdramatic woman in your home again… it is a bad idea” he commented under his breath and lay on his bed with his hand at the back of his head.

‘At least she isn’t crazy like the last one’ he thought with a smirk.

* * *

Dimitri Lorenzo is the second and now the only son of a Spanish business mogul, Donald Lorenzo, and a former British hairstylist turned businesswoman, Patricia Lorenzo.

He is New York City's most eligible bachelor/playboy as the media displays him.

The Lorenzos' have a wide chain of businesses from hotels to restaurants to beauty salons, clothing lines, shipping, and many more running back home in Spain, here in New York, in other states in the US, and many countries in other parts of the world.

The handsome man with his shades sitting on top of his full black hair is seated with his best friend Aiden Cameron Stuart on his patio that is located in between the pool and the gazebo of his house.

He is wearing a multi-color stripe vest with a pair of brown khaki shorts and slides, Aiden has the same clothes on but he is wearing a cream khaki.

Aiden's blond hair is quite messy with him constantly running his fingers through it, he has a good-looking five o'clock shadow beard. The blue-eyed man has his shades on while he sips his coconut juice.

Dimitri enjoys hanging out with his family and friends, they are his priority, then business, and lastly... women he takes out to events.

"Be glad she took the money and didn't react as badly as the other girl. What's her name again? Hayley?" Aiden asked.

"Eunice, I guess," Dimitri said checking his face on the hand mirror he was holding, "I told her we can settle it but she still went ahead to throw the shoe at me" he muttered in annoyance.

He had a bad purple color on his cheek, he flexed his jaw to check if something was broken.

"Is it that bad?" he asked.

Aiden laughed. "Uh... not really and settle what? If I may ask"

"I can't remember, but whatever made her throw things at me, I didn't want to make her anymore angry because"

"Making an already angry woman angrier is a bad idea," they both said together.

"It is plain stupid" Aiden added. "Women are beautiful creatures, why not appreciate their beauty, eh Dimitri?" Aiden asked.

"You are correct bro"

"What are you guys talking about?" Caleb Lorenzo asked as he joined the men on the patio, he was holding a can of soda in his hand.

Caleb is Dimitri's cousin, they have been real close right from when they were little. Dimitri, his older brother Cade, and Caleb always dress up as superheroes saying they have to save the whole world.