My Billionaire Lover
she sang, draping an arm across my shoulders as she pulled me through the bridal suite, “I have to admit, you’ve done wonders. The florist, the lighting, even the monogrammed cocktail stirrers? Brilliant.”
I forced a polite smile. “Glad to hear you’re satisfied.”
“Mm. Satisfied isn’t quite the word,” she purred, her tone tipping toward something more performative than genuine.
Her perfume was overpowering—something stinging, floral, pricey. It stung my eyes.
I played along. At least until I knew what game I was playing.
She escorted me to a table laden with swatches, bridesmaid party jewelry choices, and three color-coded mood boards. I had set them all out, of course. Selene hadn't done a t
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