She didn't hesitate, didn't intrude; nothing about her presence felt forced. She was raven-haired, slender, enchanting, and filled with that youthful elegance. Her demeanor was simply charming—completely shy and trembling with fear, the innocence of a figure barely stepping into the world. The way she spoke to him all night, everything trailing behind them, marked her inexperience. She had a boyfriend; she was foolish, a young adventurer with so much to lose and so little to gain.
But youth rarely does what it should. She remembered everything—the scent of his cologne flooding her senses with madness, the way she trembled with nerves and fear at every word he spoke. Just a model at the beginning of her career, she knew nothing. Yet she didn't resist when he kissed her, when he led her to his room, when she failed to say no. In every kiss, every embrace, every word, he became an urgent lover, using all he had left to make her sigh, to make her heart swell. He was so precise in every touch that she gave in completely.
-Just relax, darling, I'll make everything grand and wonderful. – Billy whispered, pressing a long kiss to her lips as he wrapped her in his arms. He gave time to every gesture, every caress, planting urgent kisses on her cheek, simple but alive. She was breathtaking, radiant with life, her sighs soft and flawless. Billy could swear she was utterly inexperienced—the way she fumbled in their kisses, the way she acted, trembling like a girl the first time she faltered.
-You're delicious. – Billy murmured, tasting her neck again, kissing her breasts. Electricity consumed them, eyes closing as they surrendered to the pleasure of the moment.
-You're a woman made to be held. – Billy said, holding Camila tightly. Her arms curled around his neck with delicate strength, and her sigh pulled a nervous reaction from him. She shivered with such intensity that her response became magnificent—an almost instinctive sigh, a posture not intrinsic but still sublime.
She was wet, nearly slipping as he entered her. She was the perfect person to feel every caress. Intense, willing to accept, she let him in—swift, exquisite, methodical. It was almost like a future exploding inside her. In less than a second, Billy was swimming in heaven, every touch pulling another sigh from her lips.
Their foreheads pressed together, a new state of consciousness dawning—pearled with sweat, brimming with renewed desire and obsession. Billy moved slowly, feeling release—swift, sharp, precise.
A moan broke from her, almost a cry.
-You're simply beautiful. – Billy whispered, lying to her side, draping an arm across her head, letting her hand rest across his chest. She sighed with grace, surrendering out of control, before drifting to sleep in his arms.
-just don't say too many… things. – Camila Sodi whispered.
-Come to New York if you like, call my agent—you'll always be welcome with me, but only with me. – Billy said, kissing her lips as they rested together.
…
Michael Ocklars was a safeguard, closing off the path to paparazzi, shadowing the young women, taking control of private cameras, erasing anything that might leak.
-all set, no information leaks. – answered a thin man, a specialist in intelligence services who had run a hacking and cybersecurity firm for at least ten years. Nobody could deny or restrain him. Life was meant to be lived in that limited mirror—every common emotion of a man seeking freedom through appetites and pleasure.
-Check the staff, make sure nothing slips through. And please, be discreet when escorting the girl out. – Michael Ocklars replied, utterly unwilling to hear anything less than perfection.
***
Jerry finished his tuna panini, the taste filling him with life. The hot tea nearly melted him as he stirred it. Magazine sales were thriving—almost a thousand-point response. Billy had once again made print fashionable, with at least fifty thousand issues sold per neighborhood in major cities like New York, where sales nearly hit a million.
Disproportionate by any standard.
-We'll start with the smaller states. – Jerry said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. – then move to those with lower populations or weaker sales. We'll save the big trophies for last. Meanwhile, at every opportunity, we'll record a bit—five-minute shorts showing each fan's experience, trying to win a chance. –
-The press has gone mad. – said a short-haired woman, her locks wild like a lion's mane.
-Our focus now falls on the upcoming release of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. – Jerry added, wasting no time on Billy's next ventures. Security was tight, the work within reach, but the weight of his projects was immense. Even "The ISLAND" was still a film with too much burden; he didn't fully grasp it. Acting had become a constant grind, reports piling up about the tour, the appearances, the dawn call times. It was exhausting, almost impossible, dragging him to events where losing his temper was one slip away.
We've considered that. Warner and the media already have strong ideas. No one can compete with a giant that reshapes people's lives. – Wanda replied, sounding almost defensive but wielding media power with her fierce, allegorical strength. She played the role of the dirty fighter, closing deals not officially clean but undeniably effective.
-I fear you people only give me panic. – Jerry admitted, knowing too well the pompous arrogance of the media, people who blurred the line between good and evil.
-Billy is our best product. When he hits the ratings, entertainment news soars. He's magnetic, anyway you look at it. – Wanda said.
And in truth, he was.
...
A new post—I don't write many because my time is limited—but I want to thank my readers for following my work. Life has thrown me a lot of curveballs, and writing is an inherently laborious task.
This series will have 700 chapters; we're currently at 300 chapters on Patreon, and the idea is this: I want to finish all my writing, all the series I've started, because it's possible that in two years I'll abandon these pages to pursue my path as a writer. To all of you who read this, just know that I've made an effort, but when I started, I was a complete novice at writing. I was learning, trying to do something I didn't fully understand, and well, now I can say I've improved a bit, but I have less time. Between work, studying, and writing, I have little free time for myself. I'm not complaining; it's just a way of saying things are complex, and I hope you'll be patient with me.
This fic will end, like all my fics on this page, along with another fic called War Machine, about Hollywood, an MMA fighter, and my other three anime fics that are still in progress.