He was not messing around.
I realized that soon enough when he drove us to a literal freaking hangar where he had a literal freaking private jet waiting for us with a literal freaking personal pilot ready to fly us to literal freaking Mexico.
Matteo parked near the extended stairs of the plane, and he hopped out to open my door for me. He extended his hand at me, but I could only stare in shock and disbelief.
Where the hell did this ‘trip’ idea come from? Was it because of what I told him last night? I looked from his eyes to his outstretched hand warily. Despite myself, suspicion started to arise within me, and all sorts of doubts ran through my head.
He was taking me to a different country in his private airplane. There wouldn’t be any airport records to prove that I’d been with
