The Razor's wheels kissed the tarmac with a soft screech, announcing the return of the Prince of Bitcoin to his private airstrip in Los Alverez, California.
The late afternoon sun blazed low, painting the sky in streaks of gold and crimson while the city's skyline shimmering in the distance.
Darren stepped out first, his tailored coat flapping in the warm breeze. Rachel followed immediately after, her hair loose, her usually covered eye completely visible as a look of relief and satisfaction — not to forget — was painted on her face.
She and Darren shared a knowing gaze. She smiled at him, like she was helplessly in love, and he smiled at her, desperately grateful.
"Never thought I'd be so excited to see this place," Rachel said.
"Really? I thought you had a great time in Romania." Darren joked.
She pouted and jerked him by the shoulder and Darren only chuckled.
