The Billionaire's Regret
This was the scene I’d imagined when I said “in person, with alcohol, and maybe a defibrillator.”
“The bitter news,” I said, opening my eyes. “I need to tell you the extra background about my fiancé.”
Hazel raised a brow. “As long as it’s not ‘he has three secret wives in Texas’, I can probably handle it.”
Rhea inched toward me like a cat sensing the scent of gossip. “How close are we talking?” she asked.
I rolled the ring with my thumb. Once. Twice. Then locked it.
“Adrian Montgomery,” I began, my tone light, almost like a client presentation. “Is a very good man. Programmer, financially stable, emotionally literate, loves my kid, and just officially asked to spend the rest of his life with