VAGRANT: A Billionaire Romance Mafia Story

RICHARD Have you ever had a million and one things running through your mind all at once? Have you ever felt the weight of an entire corporation breathing down your neck, and looking up to you for survival? No? Well, that’s quite alright, I don’t expect just anyone to experience these things. No one really ought to live like that, this much I can tell you. But not everyone has a choice in these matters, especially for those like myself who crave success and all it has to offer. Like most legacy billionaires, I was born into wealth and opulence, but unlike most billionaires, I had everything taken from me at a young age when my parents died. It was one of the most humbling moments of my life, even more so because I had a little sister who was used to having the entire world at her beck and call to look after. It wasn’t the easiest of tasks raising her myself, but we took it one day at a time, and we managed to get by okay in the end. And 17 years later down the line, we had built up one of the biggest tech companies in the Tri-state area. Impressive right? Whilst an impressive feat, it didn’t come without its consequences, great things and grand achievements never really do. For me, I lost the ability to let my guard down, because my sister Veronica and I had to deal with a lot of plots against our company in its early years of inception, and I took it upon myself to safeguard us from threats that could lead to the tragedy we faced when my parents died. It wasn’t the easiest of undertakings, but somebody had to step up, and who better than her only big brother? During the course of cold wars that we fought against larger corporations, it was only natural that I lost a little bit of myself somewhere in between with all of the micro-managing I did and the paranoia I developed. I somehow lost the ability to relax and rewind, it is one of the major reasons I am on this forced vacation Veronica has put together. ‘Deep breaths Richard, deep breaths.’ With legs crossed in seiza style, I sit at the balcony of the Penthouse suite my sister had chosen as my summer getaway this time in Spain Madrid. The Marbella Club Hotel, Golf Resort & Spa. Personally, I feel like this location is more of a tropical island getaway than just a plain old resort, but then again I’m from New York, anywhere without giant skyscrapers and giant metal buildings is pretty much paradise. I sit on the balcony of my suite, overlooking the sparkling blue sea and the white sand beach. A glass of wine is in my hand, but I barely taste it. My laptop is on my lap, and I'm scrolling through the endless reports and emails from my company. The smell of the sea fills my nostrils, but it does nothing to calm me, just as the sound of the waves crashing on the shore only reminds me of the deadlines and pressures I face. Even the warmth of the breeze only makes me sweat more. And to top it all off, the wine only makes me dizzy. I'm supposed to be on vacation, but I can't seem to switch off ‘work mode’. Something I had expressly made clear to Veronica, but like always, she still insisted I comply with her decision. I sigh and curse under my breath as I hear loud cheers and giggles coming from the beach below. I look down and see a crowd of people dancing, drinking, and having fun. My eyes narrow and my jaw clenches as I watch them. They look so carefree and happy. They don't have a worry in the world They're all dressed to enjoy all the beauty the beach has to offer, and despite it being late at night, it doesn’t hinder them by any margin. It seemed like everyone at the resort was having a blast, everyone except me of course. To be completely honest, I feel a bit of envy. Why can't I have fun and relax? I've worked hard all my life, and I deserve a break. But every time I try to unwind, I feel restless and bored. I don't know how to have fun anymore outside of working, I don't think I know how to live. Maybe I should just pack it up and go back to New York. I don't really belong here. I’ve tried it and I don’t think I’m cut out for this vacation thing. I drain the glass of wine in my hand, close my laptop, and stand up. I needed to make plans for my return trip to New York. *** I walk out of the balcony and back to my room, feeling restless and frustrated. I glance around the spacious and luxurious bedroom, but I don't appreciate any of its features. The king-sized bed with silk sheets, the marble fireplace, the walk-in closet, the plasma TV, the mini-bar, the Jacuzzi tub, the antique furniture, the paintings on the walls, the chandelier on the ceiling. They all seem meaningless and empty to me because my apartment back in New York is several leagues beyond what this hotel room had to offer. I shrug off my bathrobe and toss it on the bed. I grab a shirt and a pair of shorts from the closet and put them on. I don't bother to look in the mirror. I don't care how I look. I just want to get out of here. I exit my room and lock the door behind me. I take out my phone and dial Veronica's number. I need to talk to her. I need to tell her that I'm cutting my ‘vacation’ short and coming back to New York as soon as possible ‘Come on Ronnie, pick up.’. But she doesn't pick up. I try again and again, but I only get her voicemail. I curse and eventually put my phone away. I look out one of the many windows that line the corridor, and then I remember that there is a time difference. She's probably asleep. It's presently 7 pm here, so it's early in the morning there, maybe a little after 1 am. I should have checked the clock before calling her. I calm down and center myself with deep breaths. I remind myself that I can talk to her tomorrow. I can explain everything to her then. The thing is Veronica isn’t the biggest fan of surprises, so If I’m going to cut this short, I am going to need to give her a little bit of a heads-up. I walk down the corridor, heading to the elevator. I press the button and wait for the doors to open. I hope to get to the reception quickly.