17
Savio
Days later.
As our bulletproof car drove through the early morning streets of Italy, McKayla stared at the buildings ahead and behind us. After I got home and surprised her with the trip, she fell asleep on the plane. When she asked if I really was taking a trip or doing business to cover it up, I felt like lying. I was on a trip for her; it didn’t feel good to be ignored and given one-word answers lazily for the past few days. The distance between us was aggravating. Since I had a taste of her, I wanted to take her again, but given the circumstances, she would probably fight me. The gate opened to our family home as the sun rosed, and I heard a small gasp from her lips in surprise.
“This is your home?”
“My family’s estate.”
“You grew up here?”
“Off and on for the summers a
