❝Calm your tits, man. You got your fucking dark roast latte with an extra shot of fuckboy all over my arm!❞
During an evening in May, Tasha Aquino finally acquires her chance at an adventure. However, it comes at a deadly price and her seemingly un...
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twenty ◌ bienvenue à paris
✗
The Shangri-La of Paris was exquisite to say the least. After an almost 22-hour flight with two layovers, and a thirty minute drive from the airport, we finally arrived to our home away from home. The luxurious hotel however, meant more to me than just another place to lay my head. This hotel in particular, skyrocketed my father's business.
"Ain't this place fancy or what?" Niall grinned happily, opening the hotel room door. He pulled the barricade wide and stepped aside for me to walk through.
When the Shangri-La decided to redesign the lobby, they decided to take a chance on my dad. They trusted the company of a man who didn't have many clients, but the ones he did have, were extremely loyal and vouched for my father's ethic. Fast forward several years later, and the furnished hotel lobby where hundreds strolled through each week, contained beautiful pieces from my dad's company.
"I wish you could've been in the taxi with me," I frowned. "My French speaking skills suck. The most I can say is omelette du fromage and je m'appelle Tasha."
"Maybe you should've listened to your dad and took French class," Niall brought up with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Well maybe if he told me that it was of upmost importance that I learned French just in case the family is ever attacked by a gang of rouge shitheads, then I would've gladly taken his advice," I huffed.
I walked further into the hotel room, only to be further blown away by the radical lavishness of the space. It was an expansive room with stunning Parisian design. With two massive beds, a large couch, a heavy-duty desk, and a balcony with the most awe-inspiring view of the Eiffel Tower, I was once again put into a situation of perspective. A part of me was thankful for this opportunity to relish in such a posh environment, but the other part however, absolutely hated the reason why I was here.
"How tired are all of you?" Liam asked. He walked into the room through a set of double doors leading to the balcony. "I think we should go out and scope the area. Pinnacle Crédit is only a few blocks away from here."
"I'm game," Niall gave a two thumbs up. "Besides, I'm hungry. I could go for some food."
"Same," I agreed. "I'm more hungry than I am tired."
"Harry?" Liam gazed at the curly-headed boy with interest.
Harry sat on the bed with his feet propped up on the nearby chair, and his eyes fixated on his phone. He didn't seem to hear Liam, nor the current conversation, because instead of responding, Harry kept a perpetual scowl upon the cellular screen.
"Hey," Niall hurled a pillow straight for Harry, which hit him perfectly in the head.
"What the fuck?" Harry bellowed with annoyance. He glared at Niall, who only threw his hands up in surrender.
