,"Does Nathan know you’re leaving?" Nicholas Croft asked. Titus Zane was taken aback for a moment, then his plump lips slightly lifted in response, his European-like eyes filled with mirth, "Why should I let him know where I’m going?"
Nicholas Croft was left speechless, with an unnatural expression on his handsome face.
Titus Zane playfully tilted her head, glanced at Beatrice Hargrave who was still playing ostrich on the bed, and said with a smile, "I’m leaving now, leaving my room for you guys. But remember to settle my bill when you leave."
"I will," Nicholas Croft responded indifferently, unaffected by Titus Zane’s straightforward words.
"Then, thanks," Titus Zane said with a smile, then turned her head and raised her voice playfully, "Beatrice Hargrave, your sister Titus is leaving, not even a goodbye?"
"Goodbye, Sister Titus," Beatrice Hargrave’s muffled voice came from underneath the blanket.
Titus Zane smiled pleasurably, tossed her brown wavy hair, and left the room with her suitcase.
She had booked a taxi to the airport the day before. When she walked out of the hotel’s main entrance, the taxi was already waiting there.
The driver helped with putting the suitcase in the trunk, and Titus Zane sat in the back. The yellow and green taxi slowly drove away from the hotel entrance.
Once the taxi was on the highway, Titus Zane instructed the driver, "Master, please go faster, I need to catch a flight."
"Okay," the driver nodded in acknowledgment, but the speed remained the same as before.
Checking her wristwatch, Titus Zane grew anxious.
The ample time she had was ruined by Beatrice Hargrave; recalling the muffled groans and moans from the suite as she waited on the couch, Titus Zane couldn’t help thinking that all men were the same.
They act like noble gentlemen in their clothes, but once stripped, they’re all beasts.
She was still there, separated by a mere door, and Nicholas Croft couldn’t wait to get busy, making Titus Zane wonder what state Beatrice Hargrave would be left in after her departure!
But now, she had no worries to spare for Beatrice Hargrave, because whether she’d catch her flight was still uncertain.
"Master, sorry to trouble you, but could you please speed up? I have a flight to catch!" Titus Zane emphasized again, upsetting the driver in the front, who glanced at her through the rearview mirror and complained in an indistinct dialect, "Now you know to hurry up, but I waited for you outside the hotel for an hour. You’re asking me to speed up, but there’s satellite monitoring above, and speeding could result in a fine!"
"Please, master, I’ll throw in an extra five hundred. Could you go faster?"
"It’s not about the money, it’s about the principle." The driver lectured Titus Zane while driving, "If you miss your flight, you can take the next one, but if something goes wrong with the car, it could cost lives..."
She chose this driver because he looked older and more stable, who would have thought he’d be more nagging than Monk Tang.
As she was growing frantic, the taxi that had been running smoothly shook a few times, then suddenly jolted and came to a stop.
"Stay put, I’ll go check it out," the driver said, reminding her before he got out to inspect. Titus Zane sat in the car, rolled down the window, and watched the driver check under the hood.
Five minutes later, Titus Zane looked at the time on her wrist, poked her head out of the window, and asked, "Master, how is it? Can we go?"
"It seems like we can’t go," as the driver continued investigating, bent over, "it looks like the motor burnt out."