Hope
Killian hadn't spoken much to me since we drove to the airport and got into his private jet.
I didn't pry. I didn't think I needed to. I could only guess that he was still upset about yesterday since he'd left me alone at the party and went home. But I had the right to be upset too you know. I mean, if he hadn't played the asshole dictator role with me, I wouldn't have had to say those words.
Notwithstanding this, we ended up both ignoring each other and I whiled away my time by reading one of the many novels I'd packed for this trip. It wasn't until he pulled out a small brown briefcase and slapped it open with a loud click on the table that I finally looked up from page 34 of Elle Kennedy's novel, claimed.
"This is our backstory." He slapped the flat document down on the table
