"That's my good girl." Rosalind Paxton hugged her daughter tightly, very pleased.
The mother and daughter were dead set on making Joan Shaw's life miserable.
After breakfast, Joan Shaw followed Miles Xavier out of the villa.
She looked up at the sun overhead. The weather was quite lovely today.
"Mr. CEO, where are we going?" she asked, trotting along behind him.
The man had long legs. For every one of his steps, she had to take two just to keep up.
With his hands tucked in his pants pockets, Miles Xavier crossed the floating bridge and stopped on the lawn next to the plaza.
A helicopter descended with a THUNDEROUS roar, landing right on the lawn.
The door of the porcelain-red helicopter swung wide open, as if beckoning to them.
Joan Shaw stared, dumbfounded. Of course, she'd seen helicopters before. Back at the police academy, she'd often seen firefighters training in aerial rescues, parachuting, and the like.
