The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Edited by Unforeseen Editing
Cover photo © conrado

Cover Design by Sarah Hansen

To Joel,

I’m writing and dancing.



Chyna lounged back in her chaise, soaking up the remaining afternoon rays from the hot Italian sun. Her olive-toned skin was at home in its natural habitat and had darkened considerably over the course of the last month and a half. Milan had treated her well, and she adored it here. She had grown up in New York City—fashion week, the MET, the Upper East Side, Central Park—but even she had to admit that as much as she loved the city, Milan was just something else.

Her Italian tour was nearing an end, and soon the designer label she had been modeling for all summer would no longer need her services. She was reluctant to move from the penthouse they had provided overlooking the Via Montenapoleone, Milan’s most illustrious shopping district. She would miss the private beach in Genoa where she would take jaunts to the coast with Giovanna, Ravenna, and Brigitte. Most of all, what really surprised her was that she would miss the work.

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