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“Have you ever heard of the Hermitage?” Mr. Peak asks me.
“Should I know that place, Sir?”
“Probably not. It’s the finest hotel in Monaco. I think you will like it.”
We pull up to this massive and ornate white structure. It doesn’t look like a hotel. It looks like a palace. The doors open and I step outside into the Mediterranean climate. It is much like the Westside of Los Angeles - Perfect.
My head snaps back as I drink in the splendor of the gorgeous building. I follow my boss inside and now I swear we are inside of a royal estate. The hotel lobby has a huge domed glass ceiling with the biggest chandelier I have ever seen in my life.
We are escorted to the elevators. Naturally, Mr. Peak has reserved the Presidential suite on the top floor. We get to the suite. The doors open and, well, it’s heaven. That’s the best way to describe it. The suite is designed in shades of white. Double French doors lead to the balcony, overlooking the harbor. My jaw drops. My boss walks into the place like he owns it. My guess is that he has been here many times before.
The hotel staff bring in the luggage. My boss hands them a very generous stack of Euros. We are left alone. Mr. Peak walks out onto the balcony and points to the biggest yacht in the harbor. “That’s Sergey’s pleasure craft,” he announces. Damn, that’s a big f**king boat. It also ruins the view. My hands begin to shake. As I look at Sergey’s yacht, I wonder if he sees me on the balcony. As great as the view is out there, I opt to go back into the hotel suite.
Mr. Peak removes his clothes and hops into the shower. I join him. I wash down my master. And let me tell you, I never get sick of running my hands down his strong arms and muscular chest. He returns the favor. Even after the long flight, my boss gets a little frisky. We play around in the shower for half an hour before we hop into bed. My boss suggests we catch a nap before the big evening. Good idea.
***
We get up as the sun sets on Monaco. I jump to my feet and check the baggage. To my surprise, the entire wardrobe has been hung up in the Presidential suite’s walk-in closets. Living the life of a billionaire’s pet is going to take some getting used to!
I examine all of the Hermes outfits in front of me. I don’t even remember half of the clothing that Mr. Peak purchased for me. There are some really knockout numbers here. My eye is attracted to this white dress with a flowing blue skirt. I grab the dress off of the hanger and walk to a mirror. Oh yes, this will work.
I try on the dress and it seems as though this item was designed for my body. It shows off my strong shoulders and my chest. That’s not to say I have big ti**ts. But it works for me. I sit down and begin to apply my eyelashes and makeup. The suite has this incredible vanity desk which appears to be over a hundred years old. For a moment, I just stop to admire the craftsmanship of the furniture. The desk is white with gold leafing. You can tell the item is handmade. The thought of some artisan working weeks on end - on this one item of furniture - really makes me appreciate the finer things in life.
Let me just say that I am really enjoying this. Playing dress up, going to the Monte Carlo casino with Mr. Peak is just too much. I begin to forget about the danger that awaits me. Just when things seem fun and light, something in the back of my brain whispers, “This is serious business. Be careful.”
I slip on a gorgeous pair of heels and check myself out in the mirror. All that is missing is the jewelry. The right bling to attract my prey. Ha. Ha! First, I place that huge diamond necklace on my body. Then I drape this diamond studded presidential Cartier watch around my wrist. Next I apply the earrings and the bracelets. Finally, I look at that ring which has never left my finger. I rub that huge, sharp diamond mounted on the platinum band. Yeah, that big rock can cut down King Kong, if need be.
As I walk past the walk-in closet something catches my eye - a feather sticking out of a hat box. I walk up to the box and open it. I look inside and discover the perfect hat for this outfit. It is adorned with about a dozen white feathers. I place the hat on my head and check myself out. Oh my God. I am a pure white swan. There is no way I will be ignored.
When I am done, I walk over to the living room. I see Mr. Peak’s back. He is looking out over the marina. Damn, that man looks good in a suit. He instinctively knows I am watching him. My boss turns around and looks me up and down. There is a small smile on his face. That’s not an easy accomplishment.
While Mr. Peak admires my appearance, I stare at my billionaire decked out in a sharp black suit and a white silk tie. He runs his fingers across the white feathers. He likes what he sees. And I certainly like that my master is happy. “I would f**k you right now if we didn’t have business to attend to,” Mr. Peak says as he puts on a top hat. Damn, he couldn’t give a girl a higher compliment.
