IVY
Victoria drives a white Porsche.
Of course she does.
Sierra and I are seated at the back. She’s quiet for most of the time, which I understand. But it leaves me in a weird position where I have to sit in awkward silence as she steals glances at me through the rearview mirror.
The shopping district in Pristine is everything I expected from a city full of old money.
Designer boutiques line the streets. Women in heels and oversized sunglasses float past with shopping bags dangling from their wrists. Everything is pristine.
Pun intended.
“Let’s start with Valentino,” Victoria announces as she parks the car. “I need a new dress for dinner with Daddy tomorrow.”
Daddy. She calls her father Daddy.
I call Knox daddy too, but in a very different context.
The thought almost makes me
