Model to Holywood

"Fanny, I'm going to the TV station to record a show this morning. You can do whatever you like at home. The piano is in the small living room on the east side, and the computer is in the study."

Luca said this while eating breakfast at the table.

"Got it!"

"Beer is in the fridge, wine is on the rack—you can have some, but no hard liquor."

"Understood!"

"The water's too cold in the morning, so it's best not to swim until noon, but don't stay in too long. The pool's not freshwater, it's pretty salty."

"No problem, Uncle Luca. Anything else?"

Fanny put down her fork and asked, lips pursed.

"Alright, I'll stop nagging."

Luca shrugged and focused on his breakfast.

Fanny smirked, silently counting to herself—one, two, three.

"And one more thing—no climbing trees!"

"Ugh, you're so annoying!"

Outside the villa, Fanny watched as Luca's car slowly drove away. She shook her head. Sure, he's gentle and considerate, but sometimes he's a bit much—always treating her like a kid.

"Good morning, Lima!"

Once the gate closed, Fanny pulled out her phone and called Lima.

"I checked the villa, and there's no trace of another woman. It's spotless, no signs of anything out of place. But Luca is very meticulous, so I can't rule out that he cleaned up beforehand... Yes, okay, I'll keep watching."

After hanging up, Fanny touched her chin, her eyes wandering around the villa.

Luca had been in Los Angeles for over two weeks—there's no way he hasn't brought a girl home. That's impossible. Even if Luca is self-disciplined, those shameless women in Hollywood wouldn't leave Mr. Big alone, would they? 

No issues? Well, that's the biggest issue.

Fanny smirked, slipping into her slippers as she strolled around. She had checked the rest of the house the night before and found nothing suspicious. Only his bedroom remained.

Should she take a peek?

Standing outside the master bedroom on the second floor, Fanny hesitated. Eventually, impulse won over reason, and she pushed open the door.

The bedroom was of moderate size, with white walls and light-colored furniture. The decor was stylish and elegant. On the east side, a panoramic floor-to-ceiling window provided a view of the distant blue sea, sky, and beach palm trees.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the bed. The high, soft pillows looked like cotton clouds.

"Quite the life of luxury!"

Fanny took a few steps back and playfully fell onto the bed, bouncing slightly as she landed.

The bed was soft and clean, and the blanket carried a pleasant scent—Luca's scent mixed with a woman's perfume, along with a long, golden hair. It looked like Britney's hair color.

"Ha! Caught you!"

She pulled open the drawer under the bed, discovering two acting books and a box of BILLYBOY condoms—ten-pack, with only two left.

"Hmm... should I poke some holes in these?"

Lying on the bed, she held the little packet, a mischievous thought crossing her mind.

"Forget it, that's too mean to a friend."

Fanny smirked, pulled the blanket over her head, and quietly drifted off to sleep.

Ding dong! Ding dong!

Around ten o'clock, Fanny was practicing piano in the living room when the sound of a doorbell echoed from outside.

She checked the security camera and saw a little boy standing on his tiptoes, repeatedly pressing the doorbell. After a while, he stood on his toes and peeked inside. Not seeing anyone, he looked disappointed and began to walk away with a football in his arms, followed by a nanny.

"Hey!"

Fanny walked to the door and shouted, "Are you looking for Luca?"

The little boy stopped, blinking his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm Fanny, Luca's friend. What about you?"

Fanny opened the door and asked.

"My name is Theodore Hanks."

The little guy said politely.

"Hanks?"

Fanny looked him over—a big forehead, black hair, brown eyes. "Is Tom Hanks your dad?"

"He is!"

The boy puffed out his chest and declared loudly.

"Haha, so you're little Hanks. Would you like to come in, Mr. Little Hanks?"

Fanny ruffled his hair and asked.

"Sure!"

The little guy, holding his football, stepped inside. "Fanny, do you know how to play soccer? Mr. Kelly said he'd teach me, but he's been away a lot lately, and no one will play with me."

"Does Luca usually play soccer with you?"

Fanny led the little boy to the lawn.

"Only three times. The first time doesn't count; he was playing tennis with my dad and left me alone. They're so mean."

"Haha!"

Fanny chuckled softly. "Theodore, Luca won't be back until noon. Do you want to wait for him here?"

"Um, okay! My mom and dad are at work, and my brothers won't play with me. Fanny, can you play with me?"

The little guy tilted his head up and asked.

"Soccer? I don't know how."

Fanny shook her head.

"I can teach you. I already know how to dribble!"

The boy placed the football on the lawn and started running with it. He wasn't fast, but he wasn't bad.

"Fanny, how's my dribbling?"

After running a lap, the little guy's forehead was dotted with sweat.

"Wow, great job!"

Fanny patted his shoulder. "Keep practicing, and you'll get even better. Go for it!"

"Okay!"

The little guy started running with the ball again.

Fanny smiled softly, fetched her guitar from the house, sat cross-legged on the lawn, and watched the boy play soccer. In the sunlight, she began to gently strum the strings.

"Fanny, Fanny, look what I found!"

After a while, the boy came back from the woods, holding his football and a pear the size of his fist.

"Where did that come from?"

Fanny put down her guitar and asked.

"A seagull was stealing pears from the tree, and it fell down. It almost hit me!"

The boy pointed to a pear tree in the distance.

Fanny washed the pear in the fountain. "Do you want to eat it?"

"Yes!"

The boy took a big bite.

"How's it taste?"

Fanny asked curiously.

"Wow, super sweet!"

The boy's eyes lit up in surprise. "Fanny, you should try it!"

"Thanks!"

Fanny took a bite. It tasted really good—the skin was thick, but the flesh was crispy, sweet, and refreshing.

"It's pretty good. Want more? I can pick some from the tree."

Fanny walked over to the big tree, patting the thick trunk. It was a rough, gnarly tree, but climbing it wouldn't be too hard.

"Climb a tree?!"

The little guy looked up at the 100-foot pear tree, his mouth wide open. "It's too high! Pete and I tried a few times, but we couldn't make it up. Let's not."

"Haha, no problem for me. I'm a tree-climbing pro. Watch this!"

Fanny cracked her knuckles, stretched her arms and waist, and began to climb.

"Fanny, go! Go!" 

The little boy clapped and jumped in excitement, eyes full of admiration.

Fanny climbed steadily, advancing upwards—victory was within reach.

"Luca, help! I climbed up to get a pear, and now I'm stuck!"

"..." 

(End of the chapter)