Side Chick's Joyride, Fiancé's Meltdown

"I was a top-tier heart surgeon. The kind they gave a government-issued black SUV with diplomatic plates—armored, red-light-skipping, cleared-for-anything kind of ride.I parked it at my fiancé Marco Varonetti's place so he could keep it in shape. Bad call.One day, I got an emergency call: heart transplant for the Chancellor—yeah, that Chancellor, the one with state secrets ticking inside him.I rushed over to Marco's to grab the car.Right as I was about to leave, some rando slid into the back seat like she owned it."Mall first. I need a mani," she barked. "Then get the ice cream Marco ordered. If it melts, I'll kill you."Excuse me?"This is my car," I said, trying to stay chill. "I've got a critical airport run. You need to get out."She rolled her eyes. "You're just the driver. Open those eyes and check the plate."Then the maid chimed in. "Everyone knows Mr. Varonetti takes Ms. Caro out in this car. Nobody says a word."I froze.Marco used my federally issued SUV... to chauffeur her?This wasn't just messy.This was criminal."