Carrying An Heir For The Wrong Billionaire
He can't have a future that I'm not present in.
My phone vibrated frantically in my pants pocket. I took it out, glancing at the screen. It was Tristan. This was the sixth time he was calling today and I had ignored it all.
I sighed, my finger hovering around the screen. Finally, I answered the call, placing it in my ear.
"Yes, Tristan.”
"Irene, just come home. Please forget about everything and come back. It's too late to do anything."
I raked my hair, biting the inside of my cheek. “Stop calling Tristan," I said, my voice low. “It's not too late, and I won't return until I'm satisfied here."
Bab Populer