A Week Later for the VS Show.

A week before the show, she finally gave you the ok to come to New York to sign the papers, but since it was so close she told you to go just the day before the flight the Angels were going to do to Paris: this way you were going to fly from Albany to NYC once and not twice.

The day finally came, you took all the (very few) elegant clothes that you had, put the SIG in a sealed case, to comply with airport US laws for traveling with guns, and took the car.

Before leaving, you say goodbye to your parents, and got exactly the reactions you were expecting: my father happy because his son was still dating a multi-millionaire supermodel and was about to be in an important gala event oversea, with all the people "that count".

Money, and only money, as usual... your mother was a bit afraid for the flight, she has always been scared of airplanes, but besides that she was happy because she saw how important Adriana was for yourself.

The flight went well, the only thing that bothered you a little was that the law required to leave the gun as hold baggage and couldn't keep it with you as a hand luggage instead. That pistol was very expensive, and the thought of losing it because of some airport's porter incompetence bothered me the whole flight.

Fortunately it all went well, you got your SIG back and everything else.

Adriana sent you a message about searching for a guy holding a cardboard with your name on it and to follow him, because she preferred to wait in the car and not expose herself to the paparazzi that regularly patrolled all NYC airports.

You agreed on that, since not hiding our relationship is a thing, but renounce to our privacy in our first meeting after a month apart and being stalked all the way by cameras was a completely different one.

You find the guy waiting and as instructed, follow him.

He was around his forties, you guess, and was wearing professional but not exaggeratedly elegant clothes: he seemed more an accountant then a car driver, the only thing out of place being the cardboard with the name; maybe he worked for her modelling agency and was chosen to drive us today, you had no idea and honestly didn't care much, since he acted as one could expect: cold and formal.

Walking out of the airport, to the parking lot nearby. He stopped in front of a black GMC, you didn't know the precise model but it seemed not so old, 4-5 years of use at most.

He simply pointed to the back seats, before disappearing in the front door. A man of few words, my kind of guy, being a sociopath yourself.

You couldn't see inside, because of the obscured glasses, so when I opened the door and moved to enter I didn't expect to be literally dragged in by strong hands grabbing my coat's collar.

Before you could see clearly, since you were wearing Oakley sunglasses and inside the car it was way darker then outside, and the eyes didn't have the time to adapt to the different light input yet, sensuous lips were already pressing against mine.