His Son, Her Secret
In the grand church where her dreams are meant to come true, Belva Moguel’s world shatters in an instant. A damning video plays—Pascha Romanov, the man she’s about to marry, tangled in betrayal with her best friend. The vows remain unspoken, the promises broken before they even begin.
Heartbroken, Belva walks away from everything: the man she thought she knew, the family she cherished, and the perfect future she had once envisioned.
Five years passed. In San Francisco, Belva rebuilds her life from the rubble of the past, living peaceful days with the big secret she’s been hiding: a little boy the world has never known, let alone his father.
Yet, her fragile peace crumbles when destiny thrusts her back into the path of the man who once shattered her heart.
A ghost from her past who ignites chaos with a single, reckless night of passion. His intoxicating charm pulls her into a whirlwind she swore she’d never revisit, leaving her reeling from the thunderous echoes of her mistake.
Pascha is no longer the man she knew. He has turned into a cold, vengeful figure with a dark charm that shakes Belva's walls.
Amidst the chaos, Belva must face the fact that Pascha has another woman by his side, while she desperately protects the secret about their son.
As past and present collide, Belva is caught between love, betrayal, and a choice that could destroy everything. Can she hold on to the world she has built, or must she give up everything, once again?
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Chapter: MINEThey say a kid won’t remember their fifth birthday.Clearly, they never met Max Romanov.The mansion tucked between the pine forests was barely visible from the entrance road now, thanks to the absolutely ridiculous amount of decorations. Silver robot-shaped helium balloons, neon lights, and a giant sign at the edge of the lawn that screamed, “MAXIMUS PRIME TURNS 5.”I planned all of it. Hired a Moscow decor crew that usually handled oligarch weddings. Even had my team build a small stage with hidden speakers directly synced to Max’s personal playlist.Because today....today was about him.My son. And I wasn’t half-assing it.Naturally, Max was far too busy chasing after two kittens, one gray, one orange, that he’d just received from Igor, who declared them “a personal gift from my Siberian cabin.”He named them Luna and Zuko, and was now desperately trying to get them into miniature capes and onto the driver’s seat of his toy car.“Come on, Zuko! You be the driver! LUNA, YOU'RE HIS B
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-06-30
Chapter: THE END : coffee, dictatorship, and youPascha.The pine trees outside the window swayed gently as the northern wind swept through their tops. The cries of winter gulls echoed faintly from the valley below, mingling with the creaking of hard-packed snow on the wooden rooftop.Or… mansion, as Belva would call it. But I still think that’s pretentious. It’s just a house. A house with a private sauna, a helipad, and a secret elevator to the basement, sure—but still just a house.I sat in my favorite leather chair, Max’s pick, staring at a projected P&L report on my tablet. The numbers were not pretty. But they were less infuriating than the fact that my father, Alexandr Romanov, had just handed over full control of Romanov International to me… and then jetted off on a second honeymoon to the Faroe Islands.“Perfect timing,” he said in that granite-carved voice of his.Translation: it’s time I stop being “the troublesome second son” and start acting like the head of the family.Unfortunately, he was right. Even more unfortunatel
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLXI : what i never said in time“I... want to see Mikaela.”He just shifted slightly, turning to face me completely, one brow arched. “The nurse said her contractions came back briefly last night.”“Exactly,” I murmured, swallowing the weight that suddenly thickened in my chest. “I need to see her.”“You feel guilty.”“She was taken because of me. Dragged into Ben’s chaos because of me. And she almost lost her baby because of... everything.” I stood, smoothing down the sweater I’d been wearing since morning.“Bee.” He chuckled under his breath. “You don’t have to pay for other people’s wounds with your own body.”I looked at him, sharp. “If I don’t try to calm her, who else will? She’s been used by Ben for so long. Threatened. Silenced. Manipulated. So don’t tell me I don’t owe her anything.”Pascha lifted one corner of his mouth. “You know… I bought them an island.”I blinked. “What?”“A private island,” he said casually. “For Ronan and Mikaela. A wedding gift... or a ‘hey, you almost died twice this year’ kind of
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLX : May God Strengthen YouThe first thing I saw when the door opened was Max, standing on a little step stool beside the bed, spoon-feeding porridge to Pascha with an expression so serious, you’d think he was taming a tiger that might bite at any second.“Daddy, stop faking,” Max commanded. “It’s good. Chew. I see your right molar’s still not doing any work.”Pascha groaned and opened his mouth, chewing with the dramatic expression of a war martyr. “Tastes like prison food…”“You’ve never been to prison,” Max cut in without mercy. “So don’t lie.”I bit back a laugh and stepped inside. But before I could say anything, my attention was drawn to the far corner of the room, where Mischa was standing with her hands on her hips, nose-to-nose with her mother.Tatiana, hair swept into a pristine updo and dressed in a pastel spring ensemble that looked more runway than recovery room, was staring at her daughter with a mix of frustration and confusion.“I only said maybe you could consider going back to summer ballet,”
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLIX : Men Who TryI slipped back into Pascha’s room after making sure Mischa and Max were fed and half-asleep from the tiny war they’d waged in the lounge with Clara.Pascha was already curled up in bed like a lazy burrito, the hospital blanket tucked up to his chin. His eyes narrowed the second he saw me standing in the doorway with a cup of tea in hand.“Bee,” he groaned, raspy, and dripping with manipulative drama. “I think… I’m going to die tonight.”I raised an eyebrow. “You had porridge, soup, and you’ve been complaining every two hours. That doesn’t qualify as ‘near death.’”He sighed dramatically, then shifted slightly to face me. In a whisper that was equal parts theatrical and pathetic, he said, “I need… my wife’s touch to fall asleep in peace.”I snorted, setting the tea down on the side table. “Your wife’s touch, or Max’s cookie stash in the left drawer?”He gave a crooked smile, half mischief, half something I could never quite read. “Both.”I laughed quietly and sat down on the edge of hi
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-06-30
Chapter: CCLVIII : slow-motion heroes This room… was far too big to be called a hospital room. The ceiling stretched high above us, the glass windows opened onto a private garden, and the sheer white curtains fluttered gently in the breeze from a near-silent ventilation system. The walls didn’t look anything like a hospital’s, they looked more like a five-star hotel suite.And all of it… was because of one name.Romanov.The hospital director greeted us last night with a smile so tight, I was convinced he iced his face the moment we left. Within five minutes, the entire upper wing of the hospital was cleared and sanitized. Nurses were switched out. Two specialists were called in at four in the afternoon.All because Alexandr Romanov said, “My son will be here.”Now, that son was sitting up in bed like a spoiled patient who’d watched too much daytime TV.Pascha was wearing a loose white t-shirt and joggers, a blanket draped over his lap. A tray of hospital chicken porridge sat on a movable table across his bed.“Who made t
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-06-28
My Sister's Fiance
On the night of my sister’s engagement party, my life officially crashes. Again.
All because of one name on the invitation.
Zachary de Sanctis.
My sister’s fiancé. Fiona.
My ex, the guy I punched in the face five years ago.
Heir to the richest old-money family in Europe.
And one tiny detail only God and I know: he’s the father of my twins.
For the past five years, I’ve been hiding out in a little town in Oregon, working as the CEO of a IT firm while chasing two four-year-olds who look more like their father than me.
Isaac and Isabella: two mini De Sanctis clones with the last name Gómez, razor-sharp mouths, brains that run too fast, and a talent for causing trouble exactly when I need peace.
My family knows I came home pregnant and alone. They just never asked who the father is, and I never offered an answer. As far as they’re concerned, I’m still Arabella Gómez, the wild one who lost her way.
I thought going to Fiona’s engagement party would just mean a few hours of fake laughing, then a quiet drive back to my glass-walled house in Oregon and two sets of blue eyes calling me Mommy.
Until Zach walks into my parents’ living room holding Fiona’s hand… and his gaze stays on my face a little too long.
He can’t find out about Isaac and Isabella.
Fiona can’t find out her perfect fiancé was mine first.
And my family can’t know what really happened five years ago.
Hiding a scandal between two rich dynasties is one thing.
Hiding two chaotic twins who are basically their father’s face copy-pasted? That’s the real nightmare.
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Chapter: do they know, does she know, does he acheMy own office building felt more sane than Northlake.Not because the people inside it were more normal. Obviously not. I had once caught Miles eating dry cereal out of a mug that said World’s Okayest Developer at four in the afternoon while debugging a production issue.But this was my territory. Tall glass, smooth concrete floors, plants I had chosen myself after spending three months pretending to be a woman who had time for interior design, and the smell of coffee from the pantry that never felt like an asset owned by a De Sanctis man. Here, the air paid rent to me.I walked in through the glass doors with a black tote on my shoulder, my hair still slightly damp from a quick shower, wearing a cream blazer, black high-waisted pants, and a mood that, if sold in a perfume shop, would probably be called: Don’t Test Me, Peasant.“Morning, boss,” my receptionist, Lina, greeted me from behind the front desk.“Morning.”“Coffee?”“Already had one.”“Second coffee?”I stopped.Lina lifted
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-24
Chapter: the gate of hell had house pets“Max. Issa.” My voice came out neat. Too neat. “We’re going home.”Issa didn’t look back. “In a minute, Mommy. Sofia is bonding with me.”“Sofia will survive without additional bonding.”“No, she needs me.”“She’s a cat.”“Mommy, Cannoli is almost choosing Arsenal.” Max half turned, still crouched.Cannoli walked away.Max immediately pointed. “He’s shy.”“He’s fleeing your social pressure.”Zach stood.A simple movement. But once he was upright, his body filled the yard. The black T-shirt clung slightly to his chest and shoulders, the tattoo on his arm shifting as he slid his hands into the pockets of his joggers. His hair still fell messily over his forehead, but his eyes had no sleep left in them. Those eyes were fully awake.I ignored him with a skill that deserved a place on my résumé. “Your five minutes are up,” I told the twins. “We’re going home, you’re taking baths, and then Mommy has work.”Issa finally turned, her hazel eyes widening, illegally dramatic. “But Mommy said fiv
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-23
Chapter: ciggerate & allMy royal belly.”I looked at Issa’s little stomach, which she was patting with great authority, then at Max, who immediately started making stomach noises with his mouth.“Belly belly belly,” he said, giggling.“Nathan,” I said without taking my eyes off my children. “If they start calling me Belly at home, I’m sending you the therapy bill.”Nathan took a calm sip of his coffee. “I’ll forward it to the family finance department.”“Of course. I’m sure your family has an entire department for emotional damage.”His smile widened slightly. “We call it legal.”I hated that it was funny.Issa tugged at the hem of my jacket again. “Mommy, Handsome Uncle has a very big house.”“All the houses here are big, princesa.”“But his house looks like a villain with good taste.”Max nodded seriously. “It has a gate. Gates are cool. Our house doesn’t have a black gate.”“Because our house is not a criminal headquarters,” I said.“You want to see something?” Nathan bent toward Max and Issa, his face sl
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-22
Chapter: A Warm Knife in the Morning Air“My royal belly.”I looked at Issa’s little stomach, which she was patting with great authority, then at Max, who immediately started making stomach noises with his mouth.“Belly belly belly,” he said, giggling.“Nathan,” I said without taking my eyes off my children. “If they start calling me Belly at home, I’m sending you the therapy bill.”Nathan took a calm sip of his coffee. “I’ll forward it to the family finance department.”“Of course. I’m sure your family has an entire department for emotional damage.”His smile widened slightly. “We call it legal.”I hated that it was funny.Issa tugged at the hem of my jacket again. “Mommy, Handsome Uncle has a very big house.”“All the houses here are big, princesa.”“But his house looks like a villain with good taste.”Max nodded seriously. “It has a gate. Gates are cool. Our house doesn’t have a black gate.”“Because our house is not a criminal headquarters,” I said.“You want to see something?” Nathan bent toward Max and Issa, his face s
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-21
Chapter: Royal BellyHe leaned slightly against the side of the mansion’s black gate, coffee tumbler still in hand, his gray hoodie falling perfectly across his shoulders. His hair was dark, damp at the ends, like he had either just showered or just come back from a run that somehow had not made him look like a regular human being.His eyes were not as sharp as Zach’s, not that cold, but the lines were the same.Blue-gray.Expensive.Insolent.Younger than Zach. Brighter. Quicker to smile. Less handsome than Zach.“So you two are jogging?” he said to the twins, as if I wasn’t standing there with my blood vessels holding an emergency meeting.Max immediately puffed out his chest. “I’m an athlete.”“He just said his legs were hungry.” Issa snorted.“That’s a private medical condition.”Nathan bent slightly, his face going fake-serious. “Hungry legs are very serious. In Italy, we give them pasta.”Max’s eyes went round. “Legs eat pasta?”“If the legs are polite.”Issa looked down at her own shoes suspiciousl
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-20
Chapter: Curiosity in My Cheekbones, Trouble at the GateWe passed the mansion without incident. I didn’t even look over for too long. Very mature. Almost impressive. If there were security cameras, they would have captured a black-haired mother in expensive leggings, two children who looked like an ad for a chaotic family, and no criminal evidence except curiosity sitting in her cheekbones.We kept going to the far end of the neighborhood, where the road sloped gently upward and curved past rows of massive houses that each looked like the kind of place where people signed NDAs before dinner. Max started complaining after eight minutes.“My legs are hungry.”“Legs don’t get hungry.”“My legs want to go home.”“Your legs just started working.”“I’m still pretty, but I don’t like cardio.” Issa, who had been very glamorous earlier, now had flushed cheeks and short little breaths.“Me too, princesa.”“Why are we doing this?”“Because Mommy wants to be healthy.”Max turned his head sharply. “You’re lying.”I nearly tripped.Issa immediately look
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-19
Chapter: your rhythm almost killed me once“I didn’t ask for that,” I said at last.“I know.”“I don’t like people arranging my life.”“I know that too.”“And yet you did it anyway.”“Because you’re trying to do everything alone.”I laughed softly. Not because it was funny. “I’m the owner, founder, and CEO. That’s literally my job.”“You don’t have to control everything.”I looked at him as if he had just suggested I trade Sienna for a houseplant. “Excuse me?”“Help is there. Your team is enough. The funding is enough. Legal is enough. The vendors are enough.” He nodded toward the screen on my desk. “You don’t need to sit here until night deciding whether the napkins should be warm ivory or bone white.”“First of all, those are two different colors. Second, do not talk about napkins in that disrespectful tone inside an event planner’s office. Third, if I’m not working, what am I supposed to do?”He didn’t answer right away.I raised an eyebrow. “Sit in your mansion? Stare out the window in a silk dress and wait for my husband
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-24
Chapter: legal action without further noticeNicholas De Castello never said, I’ll try. There was no I’ll see, no maybe, no room for the universe to weigh in with an opinion. He spoke like a man born with one hand around the world’s throat and the other signing acquisition papers.I set my phone on the desk.Catalina was still standing across from me, “What did he say?”“Don’t respond to anything.”Catalina blinked. “And?”“He’ll handle it.”She lifted an eyebrow. “That sounds like something a man says when he has personal lawyers for his lawyers.”I sat back down and breathed in through my nose. “Yeah.. well.. but, this time I don’t hate it.”Because this time, they hadn’t touched me.If they wanted to chew up my name between champagne and low-sugar dessert, fine. I had already survived office whispers while my body was carrying Sienna and my dignity was being dragged across the De Castello marble floors. I knew what it felt like to become the joke for women who had never once had to calculate the cost of a doctor’s appointmen
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-24
Chapter: i’m very busy, very beautiful, very lyingNicholas disappeared.Traces of him still lingered in the house. black coffee sometimes left half-finished on the breakfast table, the sound of his car arriving too late, dark suit jackets appearing over the back of the study chair, short messages to Bianchi that made the whole house move. But his face was rarely here.The funny thing, of course, was that he still found time for Sienna.I woke to the sound of a door in the hallway.Sienna’s door.I sat up in bed, hair falling over my face, my body going instantly rigid. The clock on the nightstand read 1:17.For a few seconds, there was no sound.Then Sienna’s door hinge moved softly.I climbed out of bed without turning on the light. My bare feet touched the thick carpet, and I moved carefully toward the door. I opened my bedroom door just a crack.The hallway was dark, washed only in the soft glow of the wall sconces.Nicholas came out of Sienna’s room.Still in his white work shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy, his tie m
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-24
Chapter: the cruelest part was caringNicholas stopped beside our table without taking off his coat.His eyes dropped to my hand, still near the croissant plate, then to Gabriel’s coffee cup, then to Gabriel’s face. Slowly. In order.“Nick.” Gabriel, with all the energy of an eldest brother who had never wanted the company inheritance but had somehow still been born with aristocratic posture, leaned back in his chair and lifted one hand.Nicholas didn’t return the greeting.I bit the inside of my cheek.“What were you talking about?” Nicholas asked. His voice was very low.I picked up my napkin and lightly touched the corner of my mouth. “The weather. Taxes. The unreasonable price of avocados. Your oldest brother was also just explaining that this lemon tart has a brighter future than most European aristocratic families.”“That was actually a good point.” Gabriel laughed.Nicholas’s gaze didn’t move from me. “Gabe.”“She was asking about you,” Gabriel answered immediately.I glared at him.Gabriel stopped. His eyes blinke
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-24
Chapter: I hate that I know where it hurtsI lay on my back, staring at the dark green ceiling of my bedroom, one hand on my stomach, my hair spread across the pillow like I had just lost a duel with expensive hair spray. Outside the window, Manhattan moved with its usual shameless urgency. Cars passed. Some birds of indeterminate species chirped. A gardener in the courtyard below trimmed the hedges with the precision of someone who maybe had a secret contract with the aesthetic mafia.I had barely slept.Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Nicholas’s hand rising toward his temple, then changing direction into the motion of fixing his cuff.I hated knowing him that well.I hated that my body still kept a complete catalog of all his habits. The way his jaw tightened before he denied pain. The way his shoulders dropped half an inch when the ache started winning. The way he blinked slower when the world around him got too loud.Five years ago, knowing things like that made me feel special. Now it felt like having VIP acces
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-24
Chapter: A Perfect Man, Briefly UnmadeI gave a smile, and then we moved again.I started noticing the same pattern I’d seen that morning in the kitchen. Small. Quick. Easy to miss if you hadn’t spent years reading this man’s body more carefully than a board schedule.At one point, his fingers tightened too hard around the base of his glass. His blinking slowed just slightly. Once, while an elderly donor droned on too long, Nicholas’s gaze went blank for a second, as if the sound in the room had drifted away from him. Then it came back. Neat, cold, perfect.I didn’t say anything.He could still keep going. I knew that because a man like Nicholas would stitch his own bones together with gold thread if it let him stay standing five minutes longer.And besides, the mini auction was starting, and I wanted to see this little circus.The lights dimmed slightly. The host began talking about scholarships, hospitals, and the family’s social commitments in the kind of tone that made millions of dollars sound almost holy. People star
Dernière mise à jour: 2026-05-10
Chapter: I Married Power, I Miss KindnessThe car cruised slowly down the winding roads of Rancho San Marino Alta, city lights beginning to flicker like scattered jewels across the Los Angeles skyline. Inside the black sedan, meant to be quiet and cool, the air had started to heat up, and not in a good way.“I still can’t believe they said that about Tiara,” I muttered, arms crossed over my chest, eyes locked on the road beyond the window. “In front of strangers, no less.”Reagan, sitting calmly in the passenger seat, lifted a brow. “You’re not a stranger, Tara. You’re my wife.”I turned sharply toward him. “That’s crap. They treated me like some marketable replacement. Like just because I haven’t burned down a kitchen, I’m somehow the better prize.”“Aren’t you?” he replied smoothly. “You’re more stable. More composed. Less dangerous.”I shifted my body to face him fully. “And that makes me more deserving?”He didn’t answer. His gaze stayed fixed on the window, his jaw tightening like he was holding something back.“I know y
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-07
Chapter: the girl in the borrowed placeThe De Russo estate sat at the highest point of Rancho San Marino Alta, a hidden enclave tucked into the hills of Pacific Heights. A place so private it didn’t show up on Google Maps unless you had the right kind of access.My fingers clutched a small satin clutch too tightly. My breath had been shallow ever since we passed the iron gates engraved with the De Russo crest in bronze.“Relax,” Reagan said beside me.I turned to him. “I am relax.”“If you squeeze that bag any harder, you’re going to tear the leather.”I exhaled. “I’m just not used to having dinner with people who watched me ‘replace the bride’ three days ago.”He gave me a sideways glance. “Don’t worry about that. They’ll pretend it never happened. Families like ours are experts at that.”The car slowed to a stop in front of what, if i'm being honest, was not a house. It was a palace. Spanish contemporary style, wide terrace facing south, lined with reflecting pools and bonsai gardens that were far too symmetrical to have
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-06
Chapter: a marriage of mirrorsNight had completely fallen by the time I arrived at the De Russo mansion.I came in through the front doors. The polished marble floor gleamed under the low lights. There wasn’t a sound, except for the soft ticking of the antique clock in the sitting room. The staff had probably already retreated to their quarters.I exhaled and took a deep breath, hoping the stillness of this place would calm the mess in my head after that dinner with Geraldo.But of course, I was hoping for too much."You finally came home."The voice came from down the hallway.Reagan was standing by the fireplace, which wasn’t lit. He was wearing a black T-shirt and dark gray joggers, his hair a little tousled like he’d just showered. A phone was in his hand, and from the look on his face, he hadn’t exactly been waiting for me.I straightened my shoulders. "Don’t start."He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t respond to any of my texts. You took my car and didn’t say you were leaving it at your office
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-04
Chapter: Was I the storm in your glass heart?The sun was already hanging low when I stepped out of the office.Reagan’s car was still there. That sleek black Aston Martin looked like some exotic animal in the wrong ecosystem. Flashy. Threatening. Out of place.I stared at it for a while before deciding to just leave it. Let Reagan deal with it.Geraldo was waiting by the curb. Leaning casually against his white SUV, wearing a light gray linen shirt with the top buttons undone and a pair of chinos. His slightly messy hair blew in the breeze, and that face, always glowing like sunshine, lit up the moment he saw me.“Hey, princesa,” Geraldo grinned, opening his arms like he always did.I fell into his hug before I could even say anything.Warm. Safe.Home.His embrace never felt like a palace built on chaos the way the De Russo world did. It wasn’t a grand performance. It was home. Simple. Honest. Real.He rubbed my back gently, then laughed quietly near my ear. “Rough day, huh?”I nodded into his shoulder. “Long. And heavy.”He ki
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-03
Chapter: Panic EyesAfternoons at the office usually moved faster than this. It wasn’t the work. SketchUp and AutoCAD still demanded precision, the monitors glowed bright as always, and the steady footsteps from the engineering division down the hall echoed just like every other day.But there was a fog in my head. Heavy. Like waking up from a bad dream and not quite remembering it was just a dream.The studio I worked at sat in one of those small industrial buildings in Beverly Hills, exposed brick walls, monstera plants hanging from the ceiling, and long solid wood tables divided between architects, interior designers, and the creative team. It always smelled like espresso and freshly cut wood.I sat in my favorite corner, at the walnut desk by the window, with two monitors glowing in front of me. I had a beachfront residence project open for a client in Santa Barbara. But after an hour, all I’d done was stare at the blue lines on the screen.My hand reached for my phone. Again.Still no reply from Tia
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-03
Chapter: Breakfast. Brunch.The morning air was already warming up as I came down the stairs, dressed in an oversized white button-up with the sleeves rolled and a pair of light brown trousers. My hair was half-up, my work bag slung over one shoulder. I wanted to leave. Fast.I needed space to breathe..and honestly, I needed to see a face that wasn’t the man who was now, technically, my husband.I stopped in my tracks when I saw Reagan standing by the front door, leaning casually against one of the marble columns with a cup of coffee in his hand. He’d already showered. His slightly damp hair gave it away and he wore a black sweater paired with tailored gray trousers.Way too handsome for such an infuriating morning.“Headed to work?” he asked.I shot him a blank stare and kept walking toward the door, but he didn’t move.He tilted his head slightly and raised his cup. “I’ll drive you.”I paused. Turned slowly. “What?”“You heard me.” He gave a lazy smile. “I’ll take you to work.”I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”“Bec
Dernière mise à jour: 2025-07-03
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