Fiona stood in the center of the living room, and surveyed the properties of the flat Ewan had given to her.
The properties were high class; very expensive. The flat was beautiful too and tastefully furnished; with the artistic designs on the wall, with the vintage throw pillows on fitting sofas, with the two master bedrooms and a good view of the city,
But there was no Ewan. The flat wasn't Ewan's mansion either. And for that, she was unsatisfied.
Scratching the inside of her palm, she screamed, again and again—someway to transfer the aggression she was feeling concerning the chaos she found herself in.
Then she looked at her bags on the floor, and sighed angrily, remembering the cab she had taken.
Her father hadn't even helped her to drop them, knowing she had no car of her own! As a matter of fact, he hadn't spoken a word since their return from Athena's office.
His company has fallen into a worse state since then.