𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

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[𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍]

"𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝑴𝒀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍." 𝐈 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 another picture to Paris. I finally decided to show Paris what was in the "Mystery box," as she liked to call it.

  "Is that the Russos in the back?"

  "Yeah, they used to live in the neighborhood but they moved. I went to their sweet sixteen, too."

  "Damn, London, rubbing elbows with famous people, I see you."

  I chuckled. Paris took another photo from the pile.

  "He's fine, who this?"

  Paris showed me the picture.  "My dad," I replied.

  She looked at the picture and muttered, "Oh."

  "Weirdo," I teased.

  "Shut up, this is an old picture so he looks like you."

  "Paris, do you not see the kid he's holding? That's me, so that means that picture was taken in two-thousand-something. That's a whole grown-ass man in the picture."

  Paris rolled her eyes and turned away, embarrassed. I didn't mean to embarrass her, I was only teasing.

  "I'm sorry," I said, wrapping my arms around her stiff body. I kissed her cheek repeatedly. "You're not going to kiss me back?"

"No." She shrugged.

I removed my arms and walked away, not far obviously. "Okay, then don't expect a Valentine's gift from me tomorrow."

"Wait!" She ran over to me, got on her toes and reached up to kiss me. I lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I gazed into her eyes before letting her down.

  "What are we doing tomorrow?" she inquired, taking my hand and leading the way to the kitchen.

  "It's a surprise."

  "Hm, okay."

  "Want to go to bed?"

"Sure."

Paris and I went upstairs to go to sleep. The next day, I woke up extra early to get Paris's surprises ready. I tried to get up slowly so she wouldn't wake up, but that didn't work.

"You're leaving me again," she whined, sitting up.

"No, I'm just going to get things ready for you."

"Sleep with me— well, not like that, you know what I mean."

"We can sleep later."

She lied back down on her side so her back was to me, stubbornly.

I kissed her cheek before getting everything together. All Paris's grumbling was unnecessary since I was back in bed with her later. For a while, she stayed sleeping on her side. I could tell she was awake due to the heavy, dramatic sigh she let out when I didn't spoon her as soon as I got into bed.

But after a moment, a long moment — she turned to face me and shuffled closer to my chest.

☽☽☽

"Are you ready for your gifts?"

"Yep!"

I handed Paris her flowers — a bouquet of orange poppies.

"Roses are too cliché," she once told me.

"You remembered!" Paris exclaimed, taking the bouquet of orange flowers. "Are they from Antelope Valley."

"No, sorry, it's illegal to pick those."

"Oh, well, thank you, London. Next gift." She ate another one of the chocolates I'd given her whilst sitting on the kitchen counter where I placed her.

"That's enough gifts for right now. Get your clothes on, we're going shopping. I'm paying."

I drove Paris to the mall — that was another gift so I pretty much contradicted myself. The gift was that she could buy anything and everything she wanted without a budget.

Paris was already spoiled in that way — being able to buy whatever she wanted, but not quite since her parents gave her a budget every time she went out shopping. Though it wasn't a normal budget for a teenager — Paris's was still high.

"So I'm assuming you didn't get me anything," I teased, as she intertwined her arm with mine. I honestly didn't care for a gift.

"I did, I'm saving it for later, though. And hey! You make it sound like I've never gotten you a gift."

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"Oh you can read thoughts now?"

"Yeah, I'm different like that, what's up." Her attention went somewhere else. "I want those shoes."

The total for everything Paris bought was equivalent to the price of one or two of the cars I owned now.

"Aren't you ever afraid that you're going to go broke, London?" Paris inquired. I love how she asked that after I paid for all the things she bought.

"Well, my dad's money makes money."

"I can't believe assassins make that much, I should go into that."

"No you really shouldn't, and it's not that easy. Not all assassins make that kind of money. The only reason why we have this money is because of investing and the kind of family he was brought up in."

"Oh," Paris muttered. "Sorry."

  I kissed the side of her temple. "It's okay, let's go home and get ready for dinner. Where we're going is a long drive." Five to six hours to be exact.

For dinner, I put on a black blouse with a few buttons undone along with some black pants.

  Paris came down in a midi brown backless dress. Her hair was slicked back in a long ponytail.

  "Look." She took a ring off her finger, and put it in my hand. I looked closely at the Cartier Love ring inside and saw what looked like a bridge. "It's London Bridge. See, I have you represented."

  Great minds really do think alike. I took off my Cartier Love ring and showed her the inside which I had engraved with the Eiffel Tower. Her representation.

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