ELENA
My eyes were not prepared for the sight they met as I walked into the hangar I’d been instructed to come to.
Where I was supposed to meet up with Atlas.
They widened in wonder and amazement, as they took in the Hawker 700 that stood regal in the center of the hangar, slowly sliding over to Atlas, whose hair ruffled in the wind, as he stood a few inches away from the whirring blades.
He owns a private jet? Wow.
I mean, there was no way to know if this was really his, because the jet was painted black and had no name inscribed on its beautiful body.
But then, if we were using it, it surely belonged to him…right?
“You’re late,” he murmured behind me as we stepped on the last stair, walking into the cabin.
I scoffed, throwing him a glare behind me. “Well it’s not my fault, is it?
