Xavier's POV
The flight to the United States was a long one and, upon exiting the jet, I scrunched my nose at all the grotesque scents. Any inner city typically smelled of gasoline and piss which was one of the reasons I'd dreaded this flight.
"Il re," the jets' attendant said with a warm smile, pressing one hand over her heart in salute, the other holding out the keys to the vehicle I'd requested. It was parked on the runway, its well polished black paint sparkling in the quickly setting sunlight. When I'd asked for their best inconspicuous vehicle, I hadn't expected an Aston Martin. With the engine already purring, I got in and put it in gear, following the GPS toward my goal.
I'd been receiving calls that didn't make any sense.
The first one had come through months ago and, upon
