"Hi everyone, I'm Nana! I'm so excited to finally write a continuation of the story I originally finished back in 2020. It had such an amazing readership on Wattpad before I had to take it down to focus on my studies. Now that I'm back, I'm challenging myself to write this sequel in English. Since I'm not a native speaker, please forgive any awkward phrasing, grammar mistakes, or background inconsistencies. It's a learning process, and there will definitely be things to fix along the way, but I hope you enjoy the journey with me!"
before of that here some family tree of casablanca family
Here is the comprehensive English translation of the Casablanca family tree and the supporting cast, structured as a polished reference guide for your sequel.
The character notes have been seamlessly updated to reflect the latest continuity—specifically regarding Aillen’s recovery and her relocation to Switzerland with Thiago.
The Casablanca Family Tree (Old Money Miami Family)
Generation 1 – The Wealth Founders
- Harrison Elias Casablanca (1928–1997): The Patriarch. He started with orange groves and cheap post-WWII Miami real estate, eventually expanding his empire into private banking and imports. Known for being cold, highly charismatic, and fiercely protective of the "Casablanca name."
- Eleanor Sinclair Casablanca (1932–2008): The Wife. Hailing from Boston old money (the Sinclair family), she brought social connections, elite education, and "clean" money into the marriage. She was a woman who meticulously micro-managed the family's public image.
(They had 7 children together.)
Generation 2 – The Seven Siblings
1. Alexander Vincent Casablanca (1958–2016)Julian and Daniel's father. He died alongside his wife in a yacht accident in the Bahamas (according to the official story).
- Wife: Isabella Rossi Casablanca (1962–2016) – From the Rossi family, who are involved in Italian-American wine imports and Miami real estate.
- Children:
- Julian Benhur Casablanca (~29 years old): The protagonist. He was the owner of Nauru Hotel 2, which he later sold to his brother due to intense political and familial pressure surrounding the scandal of his marriage. Julian already knows the dark realities of Fabian's past. Furthermore, Julian discovered that Froy, the boy he adopted 7 years ago, is actually the biological son of Fabian and Aillen. This revelation came courtesy of Thiago—who served as the financial manager for Nauru Hotel 1 in addition to being a high-class pimp. When Julian became romantically involved with Fabian, Thiago revealed the secret.
- Husband: Fabian Jordan Montana (32 years old). Julian's husband, and Daniel and Julian's childhood friend before his own father sold him off, leading him to become an elite gigolo under Thiago Karimbou. Julian’s decision to marry Miami's top elite gigolo caused a massive uproar across the city, a testament to Julian's absolute boldness.
- Daniel Vincent Casablanca (~32 years old): Julian's older brother and Fabian's childhood best friend. He always supports Fabian and Julian's decisions, though he sometimes privately wonders if he made a mistake in backing Julian so fiercely. He is engaged to Giorgina Vales, the 2021 Miss USA runner-up and a botanist.
- Julian Benhur Casablanca (~29 years old): The protagonist. He was the owner of Nauru Hotel 2, which he later sold to his brother due to intense political and familial pressure surrounding the scandal of his marriage. Julian already knows the dark realities of Fabian's past. Furthermore, Julian discovered that Froy, the boy he adopted 7 years ago, is actually the biological son of Fabian and Aillen. This revelation came courtesy of Thiago—who served as the financial manager for Nauru Hotel 1 in addition to being a high-class pimp. When Julian became romantically involved with Fabian, Thiago revealed the secret.
2. Florence Casablanca Faulkner (The Aunt) Married to Guy Faulkner, a real estate tycoon whose wealth is "new money" but holds immense development power in Miami. The pair is often viewed as the "most perfect" couple by high society, masking the fact that Guy owns numerous properties used for illicit "special events."
- Stepchildren: Florence has two stepchildren from Guy's previous marriage who are around the same age as Julian and Daniel.
- Beatrice "Bea" Faulkner
- Charles "Charlie" Faulkner (The cousin who is the most openly judgmental regarding Julian and Fabian's marriage).
3. Douglas Harrison CasablancaAlexander's brother. He manages a portion of the family trust and properties. Known as the family’s "black sheep," he is a highly mysterious uncle to Julian. He is never seen publicly; rumors suggest he lives as a nomad in Cairo, occasionally sending postcards to Julian.
4. Theodore "Theo" CasablancaPoppy's father.
- Wife: Lillian Howard Casablanca (from the Howard family, who wield heavy political and local media influence in Florida).
- Child:
- Poppy Howard Casablanca: Julian's female cousin and the one he is closest to. She is a flamboyant, wild socialite who has already been married four times. Her destructive marriages stem from a deep-seated distrust of men and the lingering trauma of being physically abused by her father.
5. Victoria "Vicky" Casablanca MontgomeryMarried into the Montgomery family (Palm Beach old money). She is the most rigid and uptight socialite when it comes to the family's image. She is the first to complain about "what people will say" whenever Julian is too public or open about his marriage.
6. Sebastian "Bash" CasablancaThe most free-spirited of the siblings. He owns an art gallery and a vast contemporary art collection. He is the closest to Fabian's world, having been a regular client in Benjamin's circle years ago before Fabian retired. He secretly respects Fabian and is often the first person Julian contacts when he needs "under the table" information.
7. Camilla "Cami" CasablancaThe youngest sibling. She was incredibly close to the late Isabella (Julian's mother). She is the only sibling who openly and unconditionally supports Julian's marriage, though she can sometimes be overly protective and meddlesome.
Outside Cast (Non-Family Members)
- Renata Shu: Julian's close friend. She is the daughter of a Hong Kong mafia boss. When her father's dynasty collapsed, she and several of her siblings were relocated to Miami.
- George Halim & Theo Vanderbilt: Two of Julian's friends from his boarding school days. They aren't heavily involved in the day-to-day drama but always make time for vacations. They hail from obscenely wealthy families, frequently leaving Julian to wonder if their families have ever ruined an entire country with their wealth.
- Benjamin Han: Fabian's comrade from their time in the gigolo industry. He is currently dating Gabriel Evans. As Aillen's brother, he is Froy's uncle.
- Aillen Han: Benjamin's sister. She was impregnated by Fabian when they were young, giving birth to Froy (now 7 years old and raised by Julian and Fabian). She previously fell into a coma, during which Thiago faked her death and kept her hidden. Since waking from her coma, Julian has sent her to Switzerland for specialized medical treatment, meaning she will be absent from the immediate events of the story.
- Thiago Karimbou: The high-class pimp who runs the Miami 010 mansion. He possesses an expert eye for judging whether a man has what it takes to be a gigolo, and it was under his tutelage that Fabian became a man capable of satisfying anyone in bed. He is currently absent from the Miami scene, as Julian sent him to Switzerland to accompany and oversee Aillen’s treatment.
- Declan Hunter: Fabian's twin brother. While Fabian is blonde, Declan has hair as black as ebony and skin as pale as a corpse. He had a much better stroke of luck in life; their mother fled with Declan, married a wealthy man, and settled in the Hamptons. (To this day, Fabian refuses to speak to his mother but maintains a good relationship with his brother).
Aidan Castellanos: Julian's best friend since their college days in Miami. He is the son of Brody Castellanos, Miami's biggest "great white shark" defense attorney. Aidan serves as Julian's personal lawyer and is far more ruthless and legally manipulative than his father—to the point where even Brody is intimidated by him. Aidan operates on the absolute principle that Julian is an entity who "must be protected, even if Julian is guilty."
Chapter 1
The morning light of Miami snuck gently through the white linen curtains, swaying lightly from the air conditioning. The golden rays fell squarely on Julian’s bare back, illuminating the curves of muscle still slick with sweat and the remnants of the night before. The smell of sex still hung thick in the bedroom—bittersweet, masculine, and warm. The scent of Fabian. The scent of both of them.
Julian opened his eyes with effort. His body felt heavy, his inner thighs still throbbing with a delicious soreness. The first thing he felt was Fabian’s arm wrapped tightly around his chest, pulling him backward as if he were a prized possession. Fabian’s deep, steady breaths brushed against the nape of his neck. Each exhale carried the thick, musky scent from the man’s armpit—a blend of last night’s sweat, dried cum, and the lingering notes of expensive cologne that never truly faded.
Fabian’s eyes flickered open. A small, wicked smile immediately spread across lips still swollen from last night’s feral kisses.
“Morning, baby,” he whispered, that raspy morning voice that always managed to make Julian’s hole twitch in response. He lifted his arm, and Julian instinctively took a deep breath. That smell. The smell that belonged exclusively to Julian. “Wanna jerk me off first... or should I jerk your cock until you're moaning my name before we even get our morning coffee?”
Julian chuckled, a low, raspy sound. “You really have no shame around me.”
“Why the fuck should I have shame?” Fabian rolled his hips lazily, pressing his morning wood—already heavily leaking pre-cum at the tip—right against Julian’s ass crack. “With everyone else, I have to be Fabian Montana: sharp, cold, and professional. With you... I just want to be a filthy bastard whose cock is always primed for your tight hole.”
Julian rolled over to face him. Their eyes met. Fabian reached up, his thumb gently tracing Julian’s lower lip before leaning in and claiming it. It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was deep and dirty, tongues invading, immediately dragging Julian back to every filthy thing they’d done for hours last night.
Julian pulled back slightly, his breath already running hot. “Good morning, handsome.”
Fabian flushed instantly. The red spread all the way to his ears, even though Julian had called him that hundreds of times. His right hand dropped instinctively, stroking his own cock, which was now standing at absolute attention, the head slick and glossy with wetness.
Julian couldn’t resist the sight. He shoved Fabian flat onto his back, scrambled down between his thighs, and buried his face right in the man’s crotch. Fabian’s dick was thick, roped with heavy veins, and the head was already oozing bittersweet pre-cum. Julian greedily licked up every drop, then opened his mouth wide and swallowed the massive head in one fluid motion. He relaxed his throat, taking him deep until his nose bumped against Fabian’s short, fragrant pubic hair.
“Ah... fuck, Julian...” Fabian growled, his hands tangling tightly into Julian’s hair. Not pushing him away, but gripping him like a man terrified of falling over the edge.
Julian bobbed on him at the exact tempo he knew Fabian worshipped—slow, sloppy, and deep. The filthy, wet sounds of sucking and licking filled the quiet room. He never took his eyes off Fabian’s face. Fabian’s head was thrown back, his mouth hanging open, his tight abdominal muscles jumping every time Julian swallowed him down to the base.
Minutes passed. Fabian started thrashing restlessly.
“Julian... I’m gonna bust... fuck...”
Julian popped off with a filthy, wet slurping sound. He flashed a wicked smirk, then ducked lower. His tongue swiped over Fabian’s heavy, warm balls, sucking on them one at a time, while his right hand traveled up to pinch Fabian’s nipple. He twisted it hard, pulling and rolling it mercilessly until Fabian bit his lip, letting out a guttural sound that was equal parts pain and deep, primal pleasure.
“Slower... ah, goddammit... harder,” Fabian demanded, his breathing ragged. He was addicted to this. To Julian being rough with his nipples. Sometimes Julian left them red and bruised, but the next morning, Fabian would always beg for more.
Julian continued his brutal assault on the nipple while his tongue drifted lower, licking a slow path down to Fabian’s asshole, which was still slightly swollen from last night’s abuse. He lapped up and down the cleft, feeling the tight ring of muscle twitch under his tongue, before driving his tongue deep inside. The taste was musky, salty, and utterly male. Julian drilled his tongue in and out like a piston, his hand still pinching Fabian’s nipple without an ounce of mercy.
Fabian shuddered violently. His cock was leaking a steady stream of slick fluid all over his own stomach.
Enough teasing.
Julian rose up, straddling Fabian. He grabbed the man’s massive cock—it was burning hot, dripping wet, and hard as steel—and dragged the swollen head against his own thoroughly soaked hole. He lowered his hips with agonizing slowness, feeling that impossibly thick head stretching his tight muscle to its absolute limit. A delicious, searing burn radiated from his asshole down to his toes.
Their eyes locked.
Julian kept dropping his weight until his ass cheeks slapped wetly against the base of Fabian’s groin. The massive cock was buried entirely inside him. Deep. Scorching hot. Perfect.
“Ahhh... fuck, you fill me up so much...” Julian gasped out, his voice cracking.
Fabian gripped his hips like a vice. “Move, baby. Ride me. Show me what a filthy little slut your hole is this morning.”
Julian started rolling his hips. Up and down. Back and forth. Grinding in slow circles. Every time Fabian’s fat dick hammered against his prostate, blinding white flashes exploded behind his eyelids. Sweat began to river down his chest, dripping onto Fabian’s taut stomach. The wet, slapping sound of flesh pounding against flesh echoed loudly in the room.
Fabian began to thrust upward from below, driving deep and hard, syncing perfectly with Julian’s brutal rhythm. They crashed together in a savage kiss, tongues battling, their ragged breaths tangling as one.
“Your hole... it's always so fucking hot... always so wet... always mine,” Fabian grunted between kisses, his voice thick and raw with lust.
“Yeah... it's yours... only yours...” Julian whimpered back, his voice reduced to a mindless slur.
The tempo turned feral. Julian slammed his hips down faster, deeper, grinding harder. Fabian met every thrust with brutal force from the bottom. Both men were drenched in sweat. The heavy stench of sex practically suffocated the room.
“Oh fuck... Julian... I’m gonna cum...” Fabian warned, his fingers digging into Julian’s hips so hard they were leaving bruises.
“Inside... I want every drop of your hot load deep inside me...” Julian begged, riding him with desperate, chaotic energy.
Fabian drove upward once, twice, and then his entire body went rigid as a bowstring. The massive cock buried inside Julian began to throb violently, violently pumping thick, scorching ropes of cum. Julian felt every single pulse—the heavy flood of hot semen filling his inner walls to the brim, overflowing past the shaft that was still rammed deep inside him, spilling down his ass and dripping sloppily onto Fabian’s thighs.
Julian kept rocking his hips in slow, lazy circles, churning the hot cream inside his gut, drunk on the slick, overstuffed sensation that was driving him to the brink of insanity.
But Fabian wasn't done.
He gently but firmly pushed Julian off him, quickly flipping them over. Now Julian was flat on his back, legs splayed wide open. Fabian scrambled down and shoved his face right between Julian’s spread ass cheeks. Julian’s hole was still gaping slightly, and Fabian’s thick, white cum was slowly oozing out, sliding down the cleft of his ass and dripping toward his lower hole.
Fabian attacked the mess with a ravenous hunger.
His broad, hot tongue swiped the heavy cream from Julian’s ass crack, licked it off his balls, and went right back to the twitching hole. He sucked, swallowed, and shoved his tongue deep inside to scoop out everything that remained. The wet, sloppy sounds of his filthy feast were deafening. “I can't let a single drop go to waste,” he mumbled, his voice vibrating with absolute depravity.
Julian shuddered violently, his hands tangling desperately in Fabian’s hair. “You’re... a fucking psycho... ahh...”
When he was finally satisfied he’d cleaned up every last drop, Fabian crawled back up. His face was smeared with his own cum. He brought his face agonizingly close to Julian’s. They kissed deeply, mouths wide open, tongues eagerly trading the taste of warm semen. Thick, sticky white strings bridged their lips when they finally pulled apart for air.
Fabian reached down and wrapped his calloused, expert hand around Julian’s rock-hard, leaking cock, jacking him with merciless speed. “Shoot it out for me,” he ordered softly, his black eyes flashing with dominance.
Julian couldn't hold on for another second. He scrambled up onto his knees beside Fabian, pumping his own dick furiously. Fabian tilted his head back, opened his mouth wide, and stuck his tongue out. Julian took aim.
“I’m... cumming...”
The first thick rope blasted out, hitting Fabian dead in the forehead, splattering across his brow and temples. The next shots nailed his nose, his cheek, and slapped heavily onto his eagerly waiting tongue. Julian kept violently jerking, completely painting his gorgeous lover’s face with thick, white cum. Heavy globs dripped down to Fabian’s lower lip, his chin, and onto his chest.
Fabian licked up whatever his tongue could reach, then yanked Julian back down into a crushing embrace, kissing him deeply—shamelessly sharing the taste of Julian's load.
They collapsed, lying face-to-face. Breathing heavy. Bodies slick and sticky. The heavy musk of sex coating the inside of their lungs. Fabian lazily wiped a stray glob of cum off Julian’s cheek with his thumb, then popped the thumb into his mouth, sucking it clean with a smug little smile.
Julian stared at Fabian’s ruined face—his hair a mess, lips swollen, thick white streaks decorating his forehead, nose, and cheek. Something warm and incredibly dangerous swelled in his chest.
They were still lying face-to-face on the absolutely ruined, soaked bedsheets. Their bodies were sticky, the scent of sex clinging to their skin like a cheap, overpowered cologne. Fabian was lazily stroking his rapidly softening cock, looking as though he were pondering the future of the global economy. Julian was just about to close his eyes and drift off when Fabian opened his mouth.
“You know,” he said suddenly, his tone dead serious, “sometimes I think... this dick of mine could be bigger. Imagine if it was 30 cm. It would feel so much better for you, right? Deeper, making you—”
Julian’s eyes snapped wide open.
“What the fuck? You nearly put me in a coma with 25 cm last night, Fabian. If it was 30 cm, I’d be dead. Literally dead. My asshole is not a subway tunnel.”
Fabian turned his head, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes while his fingers kept playing with his shaft, which was getting half-hard again just from discussing the topic. “But... bigger is better, isn't it? A lot of my old clients used to say that. They liked the feeling of being stuffed to the bursting point.”
Julian let out a long, exaggerated sigh, his chest heaving. “You really are dense, aren't you? I don't want to be 'stuffed to the bursting point.' I want to be able to walk tomorrow without limping like a guy with a severe hernia.” He paused, then added, “It’s just my fucking luck that I ended up with someone carrying around a baseball bat.”
Fabian still looked genuinely confused, his right hand casually jerking his slowly reviving cock. “But... 30 cm would be so badass.”
“Fabian,” Julian deadpanned, “if your cock was 30 cm, I would move to the apartment next door and only ever send you pictures of my blown-out asshole from a safe distance.”
Fabian nodded slowly, like a CEO considering a bold new business strategy. “Okay... maybe 27 cm then?”
Julian face-palmed hard. “Jesus Christ.”
A few seconds of silence hung in the air. The only sounds were their breathing and the hum of the AC.
Then Fabian spoke again, his voice dropping softer. “Yesterday I noticed... I had a tiny tear in my asshole. After you fucked me so hard on the couch. I was worried. But just now, when you ate my ass... I don't know why, but it felt amazing, and I felt so relieved. Maybe it was because you licked it so gently.”
Julian lowered his hand, looking at Fabian with a complicated mix of deep affection and utter frustration. “That’s called aftercare, you idiot. My tongue doesn't have magical healing properties for your torn asshole. Honestly... maybe you should start eating more fiber. So you can take a shit normally and your asshole doesn't throw a tantrum every time we fuck rough.”
Fabian frowned. “Fiber? Like... vegetables?”
“Yes, like vegetables, fruits, and not just the ungodly amounts of protein shakes and raw meat you force down your throat every day.”
Fabian nodded again, like he’d just received strict doctor’s orders. “Okay. I’ll buy broccoli tomorrow.”
Julian chuckled. “Sometimes you act like a toddler who just discovered he has a cock.”
Fabian beamed, completely unfazed by the insult. Instead, he shimmied closer, pressing his now half-hard dick right against Julian’s thigh. “Hey... I just had a brilliant idea.”
Julian went on immediate high alert. “Your 'brilliant ideas' usually end in disaster.”
“What if we record ourselves fucking? Top-tier quality, perfect angles, cinematic lighting. Or... I could hire a professional videographer! I know a guy from my old days, he specializes in adult content. He could—”
“Absolutely fucking not.” Julian cut him off like a guillotine. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? If a tape like that leaks, we’re not just ruined in Miami, we are dead in the water across all of Florida. Especially with my psychotic, image-obsessed family. No videographers. No third parties. Period.”
Fabian’s face instantly dropped into a pout. His lower lip jutted out, and his hand stopped stroking his cock. He looked exactly like a kid who was just told he couldn't play his PS5. “But... just imagine how high quality it would be...”
Julian saw the sheer disappointment on that handsome face, and his resolve cracked just a little. He sighed heavily. “But... I guess we could film ourselves. Use a phone or a tripod. I can hold the camera, or we can mount it in the corner. No outsiders. Just the two of us in total control.”
Fabian’s face lit up instantly, his dark eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store. “Seriously? We can try it tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, after we get back from the mansion,” Julian replied, shaking his head, though he couldn't hide his own smirk. “You are completely impossible to say no to when you make that fucking face.”
Fabian laughed softly, then buried his face in Julian’s neck, kissing the skin tenderly. “You’re the absolute best.”
They fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, just lazily touching each other. Fabian’s fingers traced lazy circles on Julian’s back. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but carried that same casual, storytelling tone.
“You know... back when I was still a gigolo, I had this one client who was completely insane. He was a shipping CEO. Every time he booked me, he demanded I wear a full pilot’s uniform—cap, name badge, the works. Then he’d sit in his office chair and make me 'land the plane' right on his lap. He claimed it was his therapy for his fear of flying.”
Julian snorted. “Are you shitting me?”
“I’m dead serious. One time he made me bring him coffee and a newspaper, and we had to pretend we were in first class. I had to yell 'turbulence, Sir!' while I was railing him from behind. The craziest time was when he made me wear a fucking oxygen mask while I fucked him. Said it made the whole thing more dramatic.”
Julian burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking against the mattress. “How the hell did you survive all that?”
Fabian shrugged, his smile shifting into something a little more grounded. “The money was unbelievable. And back then... I needed a massive amount of cash for Froy. For his schooling, for his medical bills. So, I closed my eyes and spread my legs. Or opened my mouth. Whatever the client requested.”
Julian went quiet. His right hand drifted up to gently cup Fabian’s cheek. “Were you ever scared?”
“Always,” Fabian answered with brutal honesty, totally devoid of melodrama. “But the fear of Froy not being able to go to school, or getting sick and me not being able to pay the bills... that terrified me way more. So... I became completely shameless about sex. Because I had to be.”
Julian stared at him for a long time. Their usual dirty banter suddenly felt heavier, anchoring them both in something deeply intimate. “You don't have to do that anymore.”
“I know,” Fabian replied, pressing a kiss to Julian’s palm. “Now I only spread my legs for you. Or open my mouth. Or offer up whichever hole you feel like wrecking.”
Julian shook his head, a fond smile breaking through. “You have the weirdest sense of romance.”
“But it is romantic,” Fabian countered, nipping playfully at Julian’s bottom lip. “We’re going to the mansion tomorrow, right? I’m coming with you. I’m not letting you go alone. Knowing my luck, your mother will be there and immediately start squawking, 'Oh look, my son brought his pet gigolo along again.'”
Julian snorted. “Do not say shit like that in front of Daniel tomorrow. He’ll probably have a heart attack.”
“Daniel is prone to fainting,” Fabian agreed with deadpan seriousness. “It’s probably because he doesn't get fucked nearly enough.”
Julian grabbed a small pillow and chucked it directly at Fabian’s face. “You’re a total bastard.”
Fabian caught the pillow, laughing loudly, then yanked Julian flush against him until they were completely entangled again. His half-hard cock pressed demandingly against Julian’s stomach.
“So... tomorrow morning, we start with a small, test-run recording?” he asked, his voice dripping with hopeful lust.
Julian let out a long, suffering sigh, but his eyes were already flashing with dirty anticipation. “Are you literally never satisfied?”
“Satisfied with you? Never.”
Julian laughed softly against Fabian’s chest. Outside the window, the neon lights of Miami flickered like fallen stars. Inside this room, two broken, chaotic men held onto each other—covered in old scars, driven by a filthy lust that never seemed to burn out, and somehow... completing each other in the most beautiful, fucked-up way imaginable.
To be continued..
