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CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Roses smell, peaceful country soft music but the rays from the little window disturbed my eyes, oh mornings — I hate mornings. I knew we had landed so I struggled and opened my eyes. They landed on a shirtless man whose fingers danced on the computer keyboard but his eyes on me — I wondered what he was even typing.

“Good morning,” I greeted as I sat up and my eyes landed on the little desk, it had a plate of food, different kinds of fruits and a very big meat.

“Good morning love, breakfast is ready. Let me just close this deal then we’ll go and meet your friend,” he said and I nodded.

As he got back to hi

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