Contracted marriage with the Alpha Prince
someone teased, waggling their eyebrows suggestively, pointing her finger at my shoes.
I tried to brushed it off. Lucky for me, Jenny has arrived, and I could use her and a fence.
“Catch you later!” I waved at the staff.
As I rummaged through my bag, desperately searching for a nonexistent makeup kit, Jenny, my trusty assistant, sashayed over with the grace of a seasoned multitasker.
"Alright, Mell, time to transform you into the spitting image of Catherine Marsh," she declared, brandishing a makeup kit that seemed to have materialized out of thin air.
Bab Populer