13
Little White Lines
The limo driver got out and opened the nearside door. I let the other girls get out first and tucked in behind. The driver didn’t bat an eyelid at me. He simply shut the doors and strolled over to where a couple of other limo drivers and helicopter pilots stood, smoking and chatting out front.
Antonenko’s Austrian pile was unbelievable. I mean, seriously, wow. It sat on a huge slice of diagonally sloping land with a mountain face on one side and stunning valley views on the other. Deep green forests. Sparkling blue lakes. Fresh Alpine air. I’d never experienced anything like it.
A giant stone driveway packed with limos and supercars led to a huge, white, ultra-mod mansion; a series of giant white boxes colliding at weird and wonderful angles, with tinted, floor-to
