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After a quick car ride, we arrived at a large open field, where our MD 500 Helicopter was waiting for us. The rotary-winged aircraft was prepped and ready to go, wind flowing around the blades as they sliced through the air.
I’m sorry no! There is no way you’re taking a helicopter from Las Vegas to Kansas City. I don’t even know which Kansas City! could be the one in Missouri could be the one in Kansas. From Las Vegas to Kansas City, Missouri is 1351 miles. Google says it’s not practical to fly a helicopter over 700 miles. You should take a jet. Also google said the MD 500 helicopter is a lightweight aircraft. Even worse choice 🤦🏼♀️
“V sleduyushchiy raz eto budet tvoy glaz.” Next time, it’ll be your eye, I said in Russian, my eyes fixed firmly on Vincenzo. “I have no idea what the fuck you just said, and I don’t care. That was hot as fuck,” he breathed, his green eyes sparkling with desire. His lips curved into a sly smile, and he waved his fingers in the air at me like he was saying hi.
Instagram app and decided to do a little bit of cyberstalking. There was no harm in checking out my future husband, right? I typed Arturo De Luca into the search engine and wasn’t at all surprised to find hundreds of fan accounts made about him. After sifting through all the junk, I finally came across his personal page. I clicked his profile.
He narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth like a fucking animal. “Do not play dumb with me, Illayana Rae Volkova. You know exactly what I’m talking about. How. Long?” Oh, shit, he full-named me. I’m definitely in trouble.
“Right. Right.” I could just imagine Lukyan nodding along. “I forgot we started doing that after she tried to burn me with that blowtorch. Damn Shark Week,” he grumbled. Oh my god, I’m gonna kill them. I’m going to fucking kill them. They track my menstrual cycle?!
“Are you sure she’s not on her period? She sounds pretty fucking hormonal to me,” Lukyan asked Nikolai. That’s fucking it! I wrapped my fingers around the handle of my gun and pulled it from the holster. I pointed it at the door, making sure to aim high enough so I wouldn’t actually hit them, and fired two shots. “Fuck!” one of them yelled—not
“Since when do you make breakfast? Usually, you get the maids to do it.” True. I hardly ever cooked my own food anymore. Why do it when you have people to do it for you? That was my opinion anyway. But this time, I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to be the one to cook Arturo’s breakfast.
I removed one of the sparkly red bracelets from around my wrist and put it on him. He raised his arm into the air and stared at it with disgust. His blue eyes shot to me, and he raised his brows in question. “So I can tell you two apart,” I elaborated. Luca grumbled something under his breath, not happy with his new accessory. “Dude, that’s totally gonna salt your game.” Christian laughed
“Give him to me. You’re better to defend.” He nodded, handing Lucian over. I grunted and adjusted his weight evenly. He sure was heavy for a nine-year-old. He wrapped his arms around my neck and legs around my torso as Aleksandr took point.
Nero took the phone from Gap Tooth and pointed it at me. “Do you know what I love about technology? It’s always changing, evolving. The things phones can do these days boggle my mind.” Quite the subject change, but okay. I’ll roll with it. “Suuure,” I dragged out. “I can see why it might fascinate a baby boomer like you.” One of his men choked on a laugh,
I frowned and walked further into the house. Marching toward me, Aleksandr had a petite, dark-haired woman flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, kicking and screaming as she beat her fists against his back, cursing him in Spanish. My brows shot up in surprise. “Glad to see you, brat,” Aleksandr grunted, moving past me and out the front door. I pointed after him. “Uh, who is that?” CHAPTER 27 ILLAYANA DE LUCA “Arturo, please,” I whined, begging for mercy. For the better part of an hour, he’d been teasing me, keeping me on the edge of orgasm

