FIORELLA BIANCHI
I am on a call, speaking to my husband while I am driving behind Violeta’s brand-new red Audi RS3 Sportback. My girl is such a savage driver. It is like she owns the roads. We are headed to her parents’ house to get her kids, so I am letting my hubby know that I am coming with Violeta’s kids, and we will babysit them overnight.
“I will cook something then,” He says. Cook something? The only thing my husband knows is grilling and making eggs.
“Are you sure? I mean, I won’t be long,” I ask, hesitantly.
“Yeah, I am. Just relax, okay, love,”
“Okay, honey. Where are the kids?”
“Somewhere around the house with Malik. He just showed up now,”
“Okay, baby. I will see you then,”
“I love you. Drive safe when you come back,” He says.
“Will do. I love you.” I say befor
