AGATHA
Draven and I were riding in his luxurious car on our way back to his big house. He was busy with his cellphone, repeatedly making calls until he got frustrated and threw his iPhone because his call wasn’t answered.
“Where the hell are you now, Drake?” I heard Draven frustratedly whisper as he massaged his temple with his fingers.
Soon enough, he picked up his cellphone again and dialed once more. This time, the person he called answered, as I heard someone speak on the other line.
“Do you know where Drake is, Drew?” Draven quickly asked.
“Fùck! Jamilla is about to get married, and he’s still wandering around. Where is he?” the man beside me exclaimed in irritation.
They continued to discuss. “Pretend to be Drake for now. Take Jamilla to the island, then I’ll send our sibling
