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He motions at a monster of a slick black Bugatti. Now, this one makes more sense.
With a smile, I search for the key in the display, then I slide into the driver's seat.
“Mrs. King, this is pointless as the door won’t open.”
“Well, either it opens or…” I rev the engine, slightly shivering at the force of the vibration. Jeez. This thing could be used as a sex toy.
“Miss!”
I hit the accelerator as hard as I can. My whole body flattens against the seat, and I really,reallyunderestimated the power of this beast, because it sends me straight toward the garage door.
Yes, I meant to smash his car, but I don’t want to die in the process. I slam the brakes, but thankfully, the garage door opens.
I still hit the bumper, but it’s a win, considering I did damage his car.
The front gate also opens before I smash into it. Good. Henderson and his precious boss should know I mean business.
My breathing is more relaxed as I blast music and fly through the streets. Hello, speeding ticket.
But at least I’m alone for the first time since I woke up in the hospital. I can breathe properly without professional babysitters.
After I stop for a cup of coffee, I shoot some feeler texts in the group chats I’m in. Instantly, people fawn over me since, apparently, I haven’t been around for months.
Hi,stranger.
OMG, she’s alive.
We haven’t seen you in months, love!
What the hell?There’s no way I’d withdraw from my social circle for months. It’s that bastard Eli, isn’t it? What the hell has he been playing at these past two years?
I get invited to three gatherings, so I opt to meet my uni crew at a members-only club in Mayfair.
My phone rings, flashing ‘Tin Man.’ I hit Ignore, and since I’m feeling petty, I use his card to buy everyone at the club a round of drinks. Make that three rounds of the finest liquor they have. Also, the gentlemen get expensive cigars because, why not?
Caviar? Yes, please.
The waiter quotes me three hundred thousand quid. I tip him thirty thousand.
He tries to remain cool like all the professional peeps in exclusive clubs, but I can see the tears in his eyes.
“Are you sure, miss?”
“My husband is very generous.” I pat his hand as I place the black card in it.
“Ava!”
I turn around, beaming at the familiar face. Gemma, the one who called my name, runs toward me, her slick strawberry-blonde hair shining under the lights. She interlaces her scrawny arm with mine and digs her pointy nails into my flesh. “You look stunning.”
“So do you. Love the sparkles, Gem.”
“Aw, thanks. I thought they’d be too much.”
“Nothing is too much, sis.” I wave at our group of friends, who are sitting at the biggest table, sipping martinis I’m desperate for and wiping traces of coke from their noses.
My favorite mindless existence.
“Hi, guys. Miss me?” I pose as if I’m doing a shoot and accept hugs and kisses.
