The Stripping Heiress
I’d never have a view like this again.
By the time I returned to the Great Room, Marcus Lachlan had miraculously managed to find a shirt, and a suit jacket. He smiled in my direction and gave a little salute. Beside him, Julian stiffened, his jaw muscle tensing.
“Now that everyone is here,” one of the lawyers said,
“Let's get started.”
The three lawyers stood in a triangle formation. The one who’d spoken shared Clara’s dark hair, brown skin, and self-assured expression. I assumed he was the Smith in McConnell, and Jones. The other two, presumably Jones and McConnell, stood to either side.
Bab Populer