"She was leaving her townhouse when we got here," Caelan said.
"Interesting enough, she was able to tell exactly who the boys were with one look," Des mocked. "She guess Michel because with one look she was able to tell he was gay, and put it together with the fact that I told her yesterday that Michelangelo was a queer writer. And well, Caelan looks nothing like Ella, so she realized he was not her brother but himself."
A proud grin curled up my lips, knowing how sharp my girl is.
"Ah, she had a turquoise wig on her hand, so she'll probably use it to disguise herself in MI6. Short straight hair, probably above the shoulders and," then Michel began to describe all the details of the clothes she's using, in case she doesn't change them before she heads to the MI6 in Vauxhall.
"We asked about the wig, and she said it was for a friend of hers in London, who has cancer and loves blue, green, and the shades in between," Cael mocked in pure disbelief. "If we didn't know better, we would have believed in it, the girl lies as easily convincingly as she breathes."
"She is a Obsidian rank S agent, after all," I purred amusedly.
"Why do you sound so pleased?" Des provoked. "Into her already."
Into her? Not yet, but I will me. "Is she coming on her jet?"
"Ignoring me? I see you, arsehole. Yes, she is. One more thing, she seems to really like Prada. I mean, sure, she owns it, but I think it might be one of the brands she likes the most. And can you believe she called me a ruffian?" He gasped offended.
"It was amazing," Michel beamed. "I didn't get the constellations comment she made though, what was that about."
Des groaned, "Mocking me because I talked about zodiac signs."
"Hah, she's amazing," I barked out laughing. "You are a ruffian."
"I am not a ruffian," he gasped. "You are more of a ruffian than I am, Beast. In fact, you're way worse than ruffian."
"Sure am, but it doesn't makes you less of a ruffian," then I grabbed my phone and hang up. "That means she's not attracted to any of them. It would be annoying to kill them if she did. Which car should I pick today?" I wrapped my black towel around my waist. "Let's go with my new black Mercedes-AMG GT Coupé. She owns Mercedes, no? Maybe it'll get me some credits for having a good taste."
Grinning like a devil to myself, I made sure to dress up extra hotter today, and going for the Prada Olfactories Les Mirages Moonlight Shadow perfume with a perfect fragrance with notes of leather, fig, and cedar wood. Maybe she'll enjoy it, since it's a Prada fragrance, and one of my favorites.
I have all the fragrances of the Prada Olfactories Les Mirages male collection, and this is the one I like the most. I'm a enthusiastic of perfumes.
It's good that black is my favorite color and 90% of my clothes are black, we have that in common, I'll just gear up fully in Prada, but more casual, exactly how usually like to dress, since she apparently is casual too. I'm quite a lover of denim jeans, jackets, and boots, I'll just go with it, but still staying classy. I may not look like, but I do enjoy fashion and shopping.
So, I picked a stretch cotton turtleneck long-sleeved black shirt, with a technical fleece and leather hoodie zip-up black jacket, a five-pocket velvet denim back jeans, black monolith brushed leather and nylon boots with ankle pouches, all from Prada. To complement, I added my Bvlgari black watch on my left wrist, my gold Chopard serpent ring on my right index finger, and rectangular Prada Symbole sunglasses with acetate frame in crystal grey and graphite lens.
At last, I chose my Prada saffiano leather black shoulder bag, which I like a lot because of its many pockets and the adjustable embroidered and logo-print shoulder strap. Big enough to fit my Prada brushed leather black wallet, my two iPhones – official and the secret one just for MI6 stuff, both with untraceable numbers – in their anti-impact black silicone cases, my car keys in its Slytherin keychain, other extra keys in a Batman keychain, my lemon-flavored lip balm, my Swiss switchable blade just in case, my gun silencer, and my Prada saffiano and leather black document holder having my passport, ID, and driver's license in it.
And of course, as I need a gun for the silencer, my FNX-45 Tactical, which I put on the back of my pants' waistband, fully hidden by the jacket. It's one of my favorite guns ever, and one of the best repressor-ready guns.
Adjusting my wavy black hair one more time after I moisturized my face with a good and old skincare, I took a look at myself in the mirror. "I'm so hot, I would fall in love with myself," I grinned before turning off the light and heading out, then down to the underground garage where I hopped on my Coupé and drove out.
First I'll go to Queen's Mayfair, buy some stuff to eat while waiting for her. After that I'll head to The Gentlemen Baristas, my favorite coffee shop in London, here in Mayfair, and have a good Gatsby espresso – their best type of coffee, if you ask me, it's patient mang, heavy, having notes of Dark Chocolate, Walnut, Treacle–, of Brazil/Honduras origins. Best coffee to start the day with. I always have it when I'm in London, it's tradition.
Then, I'll guard around the SIS building at Vauxhall and wait until my girl comes. It'll take time since she's probably flying right now, but I'll try to be a patient men for her.
✵ ✵ ✵
By 3 pm she appeared in a black Maserati Granturismo, as Michel told me, in a turquoise straight short-haired wig and golden eyeglasses, and with the exact same clothes they told me she was is. Which means she probably came straight from the airport to Vauxhall street. She parked next to the VIP lot and came out with six different shopping bags, from Ferrero, Loro Piana, Givenchy, and Ardbeg Scotch whisky.
With binoculars I brought, I was able to get a good look at my girl.
And fuck, if seeing her in person like that didn't sent my very soul into ignition.