“Are you sure you have the right address, Mr. Wolff?” I looked up from my phone when I heard my driver ask me a question.
It was past seven thirty in the morning and we were headed to Anya’s address as I needed to pick her up to head to the airport. Based on her resume, she lived in the further side of the city, and also the not so pleasant part.
We had been driving for a little over thirty minutes but we were still yet to arrive, and the closer we got to the address, the more the places looked undoubtedly suspicious and not so friendly to the eyes.
There were gangs, fugitives, and many other not so highly sought after people in this specific neighborhood and I wouldn’t have imagined her to live in such a place, but it was not like I was judging. In fact, I was more worried.
A feelin
