How To Get Phone Off Blacklist Dramas & Movies

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I dropped my car off for maintenance at the service center. When it was finished, I told the staff to put it on the tab of my cousin, who ran the shop. The staff member nodded and started to process it, but then the female manager stepped in. "We don't do tabs here. You've got to pay up now," she said, slapping the bill down right in front of me. Premium Diagnostic Scan: $80,000 Exhaust System Sound Enhancement: $100,000 Engine Harmony Calibration: $100,000 Total: $280,000. I laughed at the absurdity. Since when did my cousin start running a rip-off operation? The manager crossed her arms and gave me a snooty once-over. "Always trying to mooch off Chad. I've seen plenty of broke relatives like you. If you can't swing it, don't act like you can." Unwilling to argue with her, I pulled out my phone and called my cousin. "You have ten minutes to fire the manager, or your shop is finished."

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The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”