CHAPTER FORTY NINE

Fiona George stood in the parking lot of the fancy boutique, her hands akimbo, her dainty feet clad in a tiny Louboutin, her eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. She was truly beautiful but she didn't look happy.

The phone in her hand swung from side to side, like she was contemplating on throwing it in the trashcan to her left or just tossing it into the busy street to get crushed under the tyres of the trucks that raced by.

"Just pick up the freaking call!" She snapped to no one in particular and then groaned loudly. She couldn't believe that she'd been calling one person for almost two dozen times. It wasn't her style. Fiona was the CEO of her own company, she was not used to begging anyone, much more after being dismissed the first time. Her pride was badly bruised and she needed to remind herself from time to time that she was doing it for a good cause.

Stomping to the roof of the Bentley, she sat there and slammed her fist slightly on the bonnet, making the driver
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