The morning sun was extremely comforting. It wasn't as hot here in Paris. I dig through my luggage for something to wear. Everything was so fancy. So elegant. So not me. I was used to jeans and a t-shirt, and then the occasional skirt from my school uniforms.
I pull out a floral print co-ord. It was nice, and easy to change in and out of. We were going dress shopping. I hated shopping for the necessities like soaps, and foods, and this was worse than that.
There was a loud rapping at my door. I tied my robe tighter and rushed to the door. Victor stood there, and before I could say any sort of greeting, he barges in.
"Excuse me?" I glare at him.
"Shut up, and close the door."
"Why are you in here? I said I would be down by noon."
"Just shut the door," he ordered and then calmly walked over to the couch by my window. He grabbed the magazine, and began to flip through it.
I do as I was told and then walk to the bathroom to change. When I appear back out of the door, he was gone. What the hell was wrong with him? He comes up out of nowhere, orders me around, and then leaves with no trace.
I chose heels. The sound of their constant clacking on the marble floor of the hotel irritated me like none other this morning. I see Victor, standing in his usual, dark attire. I shuffle through the various people in the lobby towards him.
"Can you tell me now, why you barged into my room?"
"To protect you."
"What the hell do you mean, protect me?"
"I was told they sent people to kill you," he spoke with a low tone.
"So you sat in my room for an hour without even telling me what was happening?"
"Well it's as simple as this," he continued, "It was framed as though you were in my room and I was in yours."
"What?"
"You're brain is smaller than a pigeon in the mornings isn't it."
I scowl at him.
Dare he talk to me like this on a moody morning again, I will personally chop his fingers off.
A beautiful black range rover pulls up ahead of the entrance. My eyes completely wash past it to the beautiful motorbike standing behind it. I used to have one back in London. I ended up selling it for our house rent.
Riding a motorbike is equivalent to ripping through fields on a powerful stallion. I grin at the memory.
"Get in," Victor said, placing his hand on the small of my back. That was the first time he actually touched me. I winced at the touch, but got in as told.
We stop at an extremely large plaza. My eyes roll back and forth as we drive up to the beginning of the street with all the boutiques.
"Every single one?" I whisper to Dante.
"Every single one, even if it takes the whole week," He laughed. Well, obviously I only had two days and one night before the party. Looking at the number of shops, made me dizzier than my blood pressure does.
Every single one.
<~~~~>
YOU ARE READING
To Find Isabel
General Fiction"I have no obligation to take orders from a cheap gangster who kidnapped his enemy's daughter because he's too much of a coward to go face to face." "Watch your mouth," he growls, his grip tightening. "Or what?" I sneered. ••••• In an effort to hold...
