I chose a simple black cocktail dress. It was silk that hugged my frame, ending just above the knee.
As I exited the large front doors of my father's Mansion, I saw it.
A brand-new Lamborghini Revuelto, finished in a red so vibrant it looked like a fresh wound.
My father stood beside the hood, his hands tucked into his pockets. He looked at the car, then at me, a faint, unreadable smile playing on his lips. He held up a key.
"To a new start?" he offered. It was a peace offering, wrapped in several hundred thousand dollars of Italian engineering.
"Thanks," I said, my voice flat as I reached for the keys.
"But you shouldn’t have, Dad. How would it look if the CEO’s assistant showed up in a Lamborghini? It’s a bit... much for a personal assistant, don't you think?"
My father’s smil
