Amara's POV
Amara stirred awake that morning, buzzing with anticipation. Today held significance, and she refused to let anything slip by unnoticed.
Several hours vanished as she primped and preened, determined to achieve flawless perfection for Carlos's benefit. After all, they'd share the same first-class cabin, seated mere inches apart with only a thin divider between them. She couldn't bear the thought of appearing anything less than stunning before her future husband—or at minimum, a future conquest.
Amara summoned a cab, then dialed Vita, who managed her travel arrangements.
Vita answered almost immediately.
——
"What?" Vita's tone dripped with irritation, instantly grating on Amara's nerves.
"Don't give me attitude. Where's my flight information? You're supposed to handle my travel, remember, you little—"
"Your itinerary's already in your inbox. Try using your brain for once, you witch," Vita shot back with venom.
The line went dead.
——
