Itzel's lips instinctively curves into a satisfactory smile. Seeing the wild card at her disposal. It was obvious she got something up her sleeves.
With nothing more to see, she snatched her bag and weasled out of the café.
Clinton jerks himself from their grips after countless effort to descend on Ryan. His face set in a scrowl. Without hesitation, he takes Paige's hand and trod out. The latter just followed at his heels without a word.
***
Itzel slid into the backseat of the taxi, her smile lingering as she settled in. "Downtown, please," she instructed the driver, her voice steady and confident.
The driver nodded, pulling away from the curb and merging into traffic. Itzel glanced out the window, watching the city blur by, her mind racing with possibilities. She had the advantage now, and she intended to make the most of it.
