The sounds of soft moans and breathless Russian whispers slowly faded as Alex Voss finally pulled himself out of the tangled sheets. Anya and Katya lay sprawled across the massive bed, their skimpy maid uniforms even more disheveled than when they'd started "morning service." Platinum hair fanned out over silk pillows, flushed skin glowing in the sunlight, and satisfied smiles on their full lips.
Alex stood up, completely naked and unashamed, his toned 19-year-old body on full display — broad shoulders, defined abs, and that V-line that made both girls bite their lips as they watched him walk toward the walk-in closet.
"Clean up when you're done relaxing," he said casually, flashing them a cocky grin over his shoulder. "And be ready for round two tonight. Daddy's black card is paying for your overtime."
"Da, Master," Anya purred, stretching languidly so her curves shifted invitingly under the thin sheet. Katya blew him a kiss, her accent thick with lingering desire. "We'll be waiting... in even less."
Chuckling, Alex stepped into his massive closet that looked more like a luxury boutique. He picked out today's fit check: a fitted black Balenciaga shirt that hugged his muscular chest and arms perfectly, paired with designer ripped jeans from Amiri that sat low on his hips, and limited-edition Louis Vuitton sneakers. A sleek Rolex Submariner watch completed the look — casual enough for college, expensive enough to make everyone notice.
He sprayed on his signature Creed Aventus cologne, the woody, smoky scent filling the air, and headed downstairs.
In the private underground garage of the skyscraper, his collection waited like loyal pets. Today he chose the matte black Lamborghini Urus — a beast of a car with custom rims and an exhaust note that turned heads for miles. The engine roared to life with a deep growl as he slid into the buttery leather seat, connecting his phone to blast some Drake through the premium sound system.
The drive to Elite Crest University — the most prestigious private college in the city, where tuition cost more than most people's annual salary — took less than fifteen minutes. Valet service was already waiting as he pulled up to the main entrance. Students turned instantly, phones coming out to snap discreet (or not-so-discreet) pictures.
"Yo, that's Alex Voss again..."
"God, he's so hot. Look at that car."
"Did you see his Instagram story last night? Those girls..."
Alex stepped out with effortless swagger, tossing the keys to the valet without a second glance. Heads turned everywhere — especially the female ones. It was the same every day. Girls from every department whispered and giggled as he walked across the manicured campus lawn toward the business faculty building.
A group of sorority girls in tight crop tops and short skirts waved at him. "Alex! Party at Kappa house this weekend?" one of them called, twirling her hair and pushing her chest forward just a little.
He winked, flashing that trademark smirk. "Maybe, if you wear that red dress again, babe."
Further down the path, a stunning brunette from his marketing class "accidentally" dropped her books right in front of him. She bent over slowly to pick them up, her short skirt riding up to reveal lacy black panties and smooth thighs. "Oops... clumsy me," she said with a shy smile that wasn't shy at all, looking up at him through long lashes.
Alex helped her anyway, his hand brushing hers deliberately. "Careful there. Wouldn't want you falling for me too hard."
She blushed furiously, biting her lip. "Too late for that..."
Inside the lecture hall, it was no different. As soon as Alex entered, the energy shifted. Girls straightened their posture, adjusted their tops, and stole glances. Even the professor — a young, attractive woman in her late twenties — gave him a lingering look before clearing her throat and starting the class on corporate finance.
During the break, three different girls approached him with "questions" about the lecture. One, a blonde cheerleader type with killer legs, leaned so close her breasts pressed against his arm while she pretended to look at his notes. "You smell amazing," she whispered. "Want to study together later? My dorm is private..."
Alex leaned back in his chair, enjoying the attention like it was his birthright. "Tempting. Real tempting. But I've got maids waiting at home who know exactly how I like things handled."
The girls around him laughed, some with clear jealousy in their eyes, others with even more determination. It was like this every single day — women throwing themselves at him, drawn to the money, the looks, the effortless confidence, and the rumors of his wild lifestyle.
But as Alex lounged in the back row, one leg stretched out, checking his phone (another notification from Anya sending a teasing selfie in her maid outfit), a small part of him felt the familiar boredom creeping in. Sure, the cars, the clothes, the endless stream of beautiful women — it was all perfect on paper. Yet something was missing. A real challenge. Someone who wouldn't melt the second he smiled.
Little did he know that today, in the afternoon elective class on "Modern Literature and Passion," a new transfer student was about to walk in — someone who wouldn't fall so easily.
The bell rang. Alex stood up, slinging his designer bag over his shoulder, already thinking about which girl he'd take for a spin in the Lamborghini after class... or whether he'd just head straight home to Anya and Katya for another "cleaning session."
Life as the rich playboy was still damn good.
But change was coming.