Paradise Island

Paradise Island

A lonely, young billionaire looks for love on his private Caribbean island.

Chapter 1 by airwreck airwreck

It has been almost four years ago you made your massive fortunes when you sold your technology company to Google. At the time you were married to your college sweetheart but she decided that she no longer needed to love you if she could get half of your billions after the sale of the company. When you had gotten married you never had thought of the need for a prenuptial agreement when you were struggling with your start up company.

The divorce left you bitter about women and society in general so you decided to get away from it all by buying an island, just over twenty acres, off the southwest coastline of Bahamas. You now live in a three-storey 17,000 square foot twelve bedroom mansion with a library, a massive home theater, an outdoor pool, a gym, a boathouse, a tennis court, a greenhouse, and a servant quarters cottage. Even though you have several staff -- Maria, your housekeeper; Pierre, your chef; Tony, your gardener; and Eva, your personal assistant -- you pretty much keep to yourself. You spend your days either programming, researching up-and-coming high tech companies to invest in, working out in your gym, playing video games, or watching movies in your home theater.

But it is not to say you did not have any sex all these years. You are, after all, a heterosexual man with needs and you have the money to sedate those lustful needs. Despite your seclusion from the outside world you managed to garner a reputation as a playboy. When you do go to the main island of Bahamas, attractive young women constantly flirt and fawn to get your attention, and when you leave for conferences in the States or Europe, you hire high end escorts that charge more per night what some people make in a month. Despite all the women you have bedded, the sex is empty to you without the emotion behind it.

You had hired your executive assistant, Eva, three years ago to help you manage your estate. At least that is what you told her and yourself. In the past few years, despite swearing to give up on women after your bitter divorce, you have been feeling the pangs of loneliness. You had met the tall, redhead Eva at a technology conference and was smitten by her looks, intelligence, and charm. Not willing to be hurt again by another relationship but unwilling to have her leave your life, you offered Eva a six-figure job in the Caribbean as your personal executive assistant to your new start-up company. The past three years have been a test on your controlling your feelings for Eva, especially as she wears light summer dresses around the manor. Her sparkling green eyes, her gorgeous porcelain face, her infectious laughter, her beautiful smile, and her sharp wit excites you as much as it hurts you. After several months of deciding, you come to the conclusion that your relationship with Eva can only be on the professional level.

Somewhere in the world is your soul mate, some woman who loves you for who you really are and not for your wealth. So why not search the globe with the power of the Internet? You swear you saw, for a second, a look of disappointment from Eva when you ask her to help you with your global search to find a wife. You decide to document your search for a wife as a pay-per-view streaming reality show, like a mix between The Bachelor and Big Brother without the hassle of TV network censorship of nudity and sex. With the help of Eva and the social media start-up you essentially created for this project you advertise for young women who meet your criteria for your ideal woman (leaving out the facts that your net worth is over $3 billion and that you own your own private Caribbean island).

You set up cameras around your mansion, all controlled in a secret room accessible only to you and Eva. You hired a small camera crew of attractive young women to document your two month-long experiment since you want to be the only man on the island full of nubile young women (the only other men are Pierre, who is gay, and Tony, who's sixty-three and married to your housekeeper).

For several weeks Eva helped you dwindle the lists of hundreds of applicants from around the world down to six candidates: Beth Cross, a beautiful blonde elementary school teacher from Iowa; Teresa "Teri" Sanchez, a gorgeous brunette who works at an ad agency in Manhattan; Toni Chan, a pretty Chinese computer engineer from Vancouver; Angela Douglas, an attractive freckled redhead script writer from Los Angeles; Brigitte Paradis, a brunette pastry chef from Paris; and Elizabeth Fry, a beautiful olive skin mathematics theorist professor from London.

You arrange for them to fly first class to Bahamas where you, Eva, and the three girls (the blonde Loretta, the brunette Valerie, and the redhead Connie) with video cameras greet them at the Lynden Pindling International Airport on New Providence Island. A stretch SUV limousine takes twelve of you to the pier where your yacht is docked. Despite the jet lag from hours of flying around the world, the young women are never tired from the excitement of being in the Caribbean, on a big yacht, and then to your own private island.

"Welcome to paradise!" you exclaim, helping the women step off the boat and onto the pier. "This will be your home for the next two months!"

Luckily, the women travelled light considering most of their wardrobe during their stay would be bikinis, lingerie, and summer dresses but you will take them to shop on the main island later during your supply runs. After dropping off their bags in the foyer, you lead the women, excited by the beautiful grandeur of the mansion -- as much as one could with a herd of cats -- on a tour of the the various rooms and the surrounding grounds all the while the camera crew recording your potential lovers' reactions. Eventually you excuse yourself and let Eva escort the young women to their own private suites so they could settle down and take a much needed nap before everyone comes down for dinner.

What happens next?

Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)