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Addictive Taste

Ferrara

I was fucking nervous.

The car barely halted in front of the grand penthouse before I was opening the door and getting out of the car, my entire being focused on one object.

The tinted red Lamborghini.

My security seemed surprised and dashed out as well, but I barely noticed them.

By the time I strode to the red car, and knocked on the window, I was sweating.

Like a fucking teenager about to ask his crush out for prom.

The window started to roll down, the faint scent of lavender hitting my nostrils.

I was prepared to say something to the feisty woman who would be behind the wheel, but it was another emotion that crept to my face.

Disappointment.

Irritation.

It was no fucking Katya Petrov, but that Willy Pete bodyguard of hers who perched himself to her like a damn parasite.

I scanned the empty backseat and almost demanded that he opens the boot.

What the...

Fucking waste of anticipation. I started to turn around when he opened the door and stepped out, bowing slightly in f
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