The Playboy Billionaire

Luca Moretti was bored. Which was ironic considering half of Monaco would have traded organs to be there. He leaned against the bar on the upper deck, loosening the top button of his black shirt as he watched the crowd on the lower decks. Same conversations. Same flirting.

"Try looking less miserable," his sister Emilia said, appearing beside him.

"This is me looking less miserable."

"You look like you're planning murder."

"That's just my face."

Emilia rolled her eyes. "Three models have tried to flirt with you in the last ten minutes."

"And yet somehow I survived." Luca smirked faintly before glancing back over the crowd.

That was when he saw her. She wasn't the most glamorous woman there. No diamonds. No dramatic gown. No obvious attempt to attract attention. She stood near the edge of the lower deck in black boots and an oversized blazer, lifting a camera to photograph the marina lights like she'd forgotten the party existed around her. Luca narrowed his eyes.

Interesting.

Most people were awed by his yacht but this woman looked mildly annoyed to be there. Even more interesting? She didn't belong. He could tell. Not because of her clothes but because of the way she watched people. It was like she was studying everyone instead of trying to impress them.

"Who's that?" Luca asked casually.

Emilia followed his gaze.

"No idea," she said.

"Now I'm definitely interested."

His sister snorted softly. "Of course you are."

Luca ignored her and kept watching the mystery woman move across the deck with her camera. She photographed candid moments instead of staged ones. A couple arguing near the railing. A billionaire pretending to enjoy himself. Real moments. Most photographers at parties like this wanted glamour. This woman looked more interested in exposing the truth underneath it. Luca liked that immediately. A slow grin pulled at his mouth.

"She crashed the party," he realized.

Emilia blinked. "What?"

"She has no idea where she is."

"You're smiling."

"I know."

"That's vaguely concerning."

For the first time all evening, Luca wasn't bored anymore. He watched her pause near the lower bar, adjusting the strap of her camera bag with visible irritation. She wasn't polished Monaco pretty. She was really beautiful. It was dangerous and she had no idea.

She had dark wavy hair over one shoulder, sharp cheekbones and hazel eyes that looked permanently seconds away from rolling in annoyance. And she was completely unaffected by the circus around her. That was the part that grabbed Luca's attention. This woman looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. Luca pushed away from the bar before he could overthink it.

"Where are you going?" Emilia asked suspiciously.

"To investigate."

"You say that like a serial killer."

He smirked. "Relax."

As Luca moved through the crowd, people reached for him. A model touched his arm, an investor tried discussing business but Luca ignored them all. His attention stayed focussed on the woman with the camera. She was photographing the harbor again when he stopped behind her. Up close, she smelled faintly like vanilla beneath the sea air. Dangerous combination.

"Nice camera."

She startled violently and spun around so quickly he almost laughed. Then she looked at him fully. It was a look of annoyance, not of excitement or flirtation like he was used to. Luca was instantly fascinated.

"You own this boat?" she asked.

No greeting. Straight to suspicion.

His grin widened slightly. "Unfortunately."

That earned him a tiny eye roll. He couldn't remember the last time someone rolled their eyes at him instead of flirting.

"Look," she said, "I thought this was connected to the fashion launch down the harbor."

"And now?"

"Now I realize I accidentally wandered into a billionaire cult meeting."

Luca laughed before he could stop himself. An actual laugh. Not the fake social version he used at parties. God, she was refreshing.

"You always insult strangers?" he asked.

"Only the obscenely wealthy ones."

He allowed his gaze to drift slowly over her face. She noticed immediately.

"You're staring."

"You're beautiful."

And unlike most women around him, she didn't melt under the compliment. She looked irritated by it, even as a blush tinted her cheeks.

"Do lines like that actually work on women?"

"Usually."

"Tragic."

Luca laughed again. This woman was fearless and completely unaware of how attractive she was. A waiter passed carrying champagne, and Luca handed her a glass automatically.

"I don't accept drinks from strangers."

"Luca Moretti."

Recognition flashed across her face. Luca knew this was the part where things normally changed for people. They became careful, interested, calculating. Instead she sighed softly.

"Oh."

Luca blinked. "That bad?"

"You're the fountain scandal guy."

He laughed again. Not investor. Not billionaire. Fountain scandal guy. Unbelievable. She spoke like she knew his reputation.

He studied her carefully while she glanced around the yacht with open amusement. No greed. No desperation. No attempt to impress him. She genuinely didn't care who he was. Which made him want her attention immediately.

"You're not impressed by any of this?" he asked, gesturing around the yacht.

"I mean... the boat's nice."

Luca stared at her in disbelief.

"That sounded painful for you."

"You have no idea."

A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. There it is. Because the second she smiled properly, Luca felt something shift unpleasantly inside his chest. A passing interest turning into something sharper. More dangerous.

And he only knew her first name.