Kira's POV
The Mercedes felt like a dream.
I'd driven nice cars before - as a bodyguard for Damien - but this was different. This was simply beautiful. And most importantly, it was ours.
"Turn it up!" Olivia shouted over the music, her hand already reaching for the volume dial.
I cranked it, and Dua Lipa's voice filled the car, the bass thumping through the premium sound system.
We sang along at the top of our lungs, windows down, wind whipping through our hair, absolutely not caring that we probably looked insane.
"We're that bitch!" I yelled.
"We ARE that bitch!" Olivia agreed, throwing her hands up.
This was freedom. This was joy. This was two best friends in a car they had no business owning, heading toward a future that seemed impossibly bright.
The drive to Wellington and Sons took twenty minutes, and we spent every second of it singing, laughing, hyping each other up.
When I pulled up to the building, reality started to set in.
