13

Ginevra

“Our ‘don’t talk about personal stuff-rule’ sucks butt, give me your name or at least your number.”

I chuckle as Ron smirks at me.

“Wouldn’t my number be more valuable than just my name?”

“No, your name would have me dreaming of you properly.”

My heart skyrockets at him saying that.

“No can do, Mr.! And unfortunately, the rules are the rules.”

There is no way I am going to expose myself to him. My family would have me killed if they knew I came here.

“And you have my name.”

He clicks his tongue, tilting his head at me.

“Yeah, sure, Cass!”

He stresses out my false name sneakily, making me giggle.

“I would like a souvenir then.”

“Beg your pardon?”

With a swift movement, he takes out an all-black folding knife and I instinctively jump. Looking at me dumbfounded, he shows me his palms still wearing his sly smirk.

“I’m not going to cut out your heart, relax!”

“How did you even get that through security?”

He ignores my question, cutting off the upper button of his ta