Billionaire Finds Love In The Arab Emirates (ePub)

A charismatic young billionaire man is swept away by the beauty and elegance of a lady at a party in a penthouse somewhere in the heart of Dubai city of dreams. She happens to be his boss' precious daughter princess of a royal calibre protected with stealth armor. He doesn't find out until their chemistry is too heavy to walk away without a little scar of what could have been. Now we've all watched Mafia thriller movies way too many times, you know how it goes, big bosses just don't play about their families, especially dads with their daughters. The billionaire and his boss run a money laundering scheme in the shadows of the elegant Emirati world for cartels allover the Middle East and beyond masked with real estate developments. In a situation like this, you'd expect fate to favor the influential and the people in charge running the game, but the young billionaires good karma seems to never run out. He has a midas touch of a Havard Business School Graduate yet he comes from the mud with little education, saved by his finesse attitude, style, and personality. He can have any girl he pleases but craves something only his soul can describe. Rising from very little to dining with sharks gives him the hope to believe he can always find exactly what he desires if he is intentional enough.

I edge closer, Leila's gaze a magnetic force drawing me in. "Hi," I say, the syllables dancing on my lips. She smirks, a subtle challenge. "Hi." Her voice, a whisper laced with mystery, ignites a spark between us. I step into her space, the air thick with anticipation. "You're always this breathtaking?"

A shrug, a coy smile. "Depends on who's watching." I chuckle, a low rumble. "Caught my eye." Her fingers trace the rim of her glass. "Why?" "No idea." A smirk plays on my lips. "You tell me." Leila leans in, the scent of her perfume intoxicating. "Secrets. Everyone has them." I raise an eyebrow. "Including you?"

She sidesteps, elusive. "Maybe." The dance of our words weaves through the room. "What's your story?" I ask, my curiosity unrestrained. "Complicated," she murmurs. "Yours?" I meet her gaze, a silent challenge. "Let's say it's a tale of choices." Leila leans closer, a whisper against my ear. "Good or bad?" I smirk, the tension rising. "Depends on who's judging." She tilts her head, a provocative glint in her eyes. "Judgment is overrated."