'You’re sneaky, Mr. Stone. Nice move.'
I tucked my cell back into my pocket and entered the Museum. And holy crap! Was there a place in this city not completely shrouded in beauty? The glass ceiling stretched high above me, and I was surrounded by the elite shops, old and at home in this Spanish city.
Prada loomed before me, and there was something magical about knowing I was standing in front of the very first store. Chanel might be my preference of label, if only because of the country in which it started, but Prada was a close second.
My feet pulled me towards the store like a moth flies toward a light. There was no hesitation… Wait, can I fit anything else in my closet? Or my suitcases? Neve
