HIS TOY
“Let's do that, pumpkin.”
Amy stood up from my lap and moved with a rich man's daughter's elegance towards the dresser (forgot to add that she had officially moved into my room…). She stared at herself in the mirror for a while, admiring whatever beauty she noticed on her skin, before turning to face me. “He has followers, Owen, you're not always current with the news,” she reprimanded or rather warned me. I grinned. “He can't have that many followers, he just arrived in Paris.”
“Knew you'd say that,” Amy said, picking her phone from the dresser, she turned on the news and tossed it carelessly to me. “Do you think he came to Paris, just to play child's play? Think again!”
Bab Populer