Book 1: The Rules of Diana
Book 2: The Rules of Reid
Reid Maxwell has lived in Italy for 10 years, studying art and becoming one of the most famous painters on the peninsula. His artwork has made him wealthy and he is the youngest self-made billion...
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Reid stared at the painting in front of him, finally letting his eyes study what he had been subconsciously painting. He didn't even think about what he was going to make but emerald eyes stared back at him.
A soft sigh escaped his lips before he settled his paintbrush down and looked towards his view of Italy. For the past couple of days, he locked himself in his penthouse, distancing himself from the outside world. Matteo and Ariana had called him crazy but he ignored them both.
His attention was only on a certain blonde. It sucked, knowing Diana's married name only fueled his obsession with her. Now, he could read the newest articles about her and see the paparazzi pictures that were posted on the internet. He was able to see every smile that she wore while accompanying her husband to award shows and parties.
It hurt him because Diana had just moved on with her life and forgot about him. It had only been a couple of weeks since Jasmine and Oliver's Wedding and there had been no communication between them. He wanted nothing than to pick up the phone and call her but he didn't have her number. And she never responded to his emails so there was no way to contact her.
Just then, there was a knock at his door and when he opened it, Matteo walked inside with a few workers behind him. Reid frowned, watching as people began to set up in his penthouse. "Cos'è questo?"
(What is this)
"Ti sei dimenticato del tuo shooting di moda?" Matteo responded, placing the famous painter into a seat. Makeup artists and stylists gathered around, preparing to work on him. (Did you forget about your vogue shooting?)
Reid groaned, throwing his head back. He had forgotten about his Vogue shooting for April. He was labeled as one of the most influential men in Europe, and Vogue wanted to use this opportunity to get some professional pictures of him.
"Stop," He suddenly said, pushing the hands away from his face. "I can't do this,"
"What are you talking about? Sei ubriaco," Matteo asked as he opened the blinds, letting the sunlight deep through the penthouse. (You're drunk)
"Ci stavo pensando. Ho bisogno di una pausa,"
(I've been thinking. I need a break)
His Business advisor frowned, caressing his chin. He excused the workers before sitting down in front of Reid. "Break? You can't take a break. You're at the top of your game—,"
"I just want to go back to America,"
"America? Are you out of your bloody mind?" Matteo asked, standing up and pacing around the room. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and he cursed in Italian while running his hands through his short hair.
"I'll continue the American Expansion and I've had my eye on a few businessmen there. You can come with me, we'll rule America the same way we rule Europe now," Reid advised a small smirk resting on his lips.
