Books About The Playboy Mansion Novels & Stories

Nasa gitnang bahagi naman ang malaking vanity mirror at mesa na may tig-tatlong cabinet sa magkabilang gilid. Masasabi kong perpekto ang interior design ng bahay, pero hindi naman perpekto ang buhay na mayroon sila. Sinikap ko na isa-isahin ang mga libro sa lagayan. "The Red Mansion by Frank Rhett," mabilis kong tinago ang librong hawak ko dahil bigla na lang sumulpot si Kent. Hays! Nakakagulat naman ang mga ito. "Interesting ang librong binabasa mo." nakangiti nitong sabi sa akin.

(POV´S Brianna) The work at the estate was continuous, but there was none of the heavy filth I was used to seeing in the city tenements. I spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon moving through the rooms with a feather duster and a microfiber cloth, wiping down surfaces that already looked like mirrors. The property was absurdly organized. Every porcelain vase, every book on the library shelves, and every picture frame looked as if it had been placed there with millimetric precision.

"And a plea for help. Dmitri is trying to build a playhouse in the backyard, and I think he’s accidentally built a fortress instead." Dmitri, who was holding a tool belt that looked like it belonged to a giant, shrugged sheepishly. "It is very sturdy. It will last a hundred years." The bookstore, usually a place of quiet reflection, instantly transformed into a hub of noise and life. It was a beautiful, chaotic tangle of family—the kind of life they had once thought was reserved for other people.

One thing that I’d never done with him, but I couldn’t figure out how else to do it? The idea of lying to him and the look on his face when he mentioned Playboy nearly sent him into a cardiac arrest. I almost said to him that the Playboy mansion was closed, but I knew that if I did that, then he would know what it was about. I didn’t want him to have a clue, because I was still thinking about the counter article and what it would mean if I gave that to him.

Of all guys out there, my heart decides to chose a playboy, and not just any playboy, it's the same playboy I made a deal not to fall in love with. Fuck, no.

Mostly because I wasn't so sure I wanted to hear the answer. I ate by myself, as I’d eaten by myself for most of my life, and then continued on exploring the mansion. I found a large indoor swimming pool that was currently empty, a complete home theatre with a massive screen against the one wall and beautiful, luxurious recliners arranged on pavilion seating, a cold sauna, even a sunroom with a hot tub next to a wall that was completely made out of glass overlooking Troy’s beautifully kept gardens. It was well after midday when I finally stumbled into the library. I expected books about werewolves and vampires, witches and wizards, but his library was a disappointment. It looked like any nor

he mumbled under his breath, hoping I won't catch the words but I clearly did. Can Jason ever change his playboy styles? Having casual flings with numerous girls and trashing them aside afterwards. He literally treats them like shits! "Get back to work" He dismissed me, already on his own work. I went back to my office to reply some important emails before making Miss Andrew's coffee. As my fingers danced on the keyboard, typing, Jason's lifestyle did not leave my mind and slowly my head started shifting to the club scenes again, somewords echoing loudly in my ears.

He called behind me. I replied with a lazy drawl. “Aye, aye, captain.” I arrived at the Booker’s family mansion in upstate New York an hour later. The meeting was supposed to be held at noon but I don't give a shit about punctuality. The mansion came into sight and I maneuvered my SUV throughout the gate as soon as the security cleared me. The place looked like it cost tons of money : a stone water fountain, a giant polished building, and the whole shebang. I've seen a lot of places but this one impressed me especially the little paintings in the cupid statues littering the entrance. Whoever painted those was good.

"I can't calm down! He's literally been on the cover of Forbes, GQ, People's Sexiest Men Alive-he's like, a walking orgasm in a suit! And he's thirty! And a billionaire!" I make a face. "He's also a pain in the ass. Arrogant, smug, cocky, a playboy and a womanizer." Chelsea waves her hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. He can womanize me, I don't care." I snort. "Chels, get a grip." She grins wickedly. "So, how's your new roommate?" "Oh, don't even start," I groan. "He's already testing my patience. But-" I pause, frowning at the memory. "There's something else."

Like, ‘this man owns another club too? Damn! I just simply leaned back into my seat, my gaze slightly drifting away from Talia's as the thought began to build on us. I quickly recalled that first club we had visited, that one close to the outskirts of Ridgewood Pack, do you even know how effortlessly luxurious it was? Damn! My mind shifted again—to that his mansion-like residence where I suddenly woke up the previous day… the details, the scale of it, and the quiet authority embedded in every corner of it. And now this? Another huge establishment. Another clear display of control on wealth and space. My lips absentmindedly parted before I spoke without meaning to.