Capturing Viola: His Wife Is Mine
Logan Reynolds
I’m halfway through a proposal draft when I hear the familiar knock—three sharp raps. Only one person knocks like that.
“Come in,” I call, already knowing.
Bonnie pushes the door open like she owns the place. She’s in ripped jeans, her denim jacket slung over one shoulder, sunglasses perched on her head even though she’s inside.
“Well, well,” she smirks, stepping in and letting the door fall shut behind her. “Big man behind the desk. You know, you used to build Lego cities on the floor.”
Bab Populer