Claimed By The Billionaire At The Altar
he replied simply, adjusting his glasses.
I rolled my eyes. “You need help. Here—” I reached for one of the novels from the table beside me, one that was light and funny. “Try reading something that won’t make your brain combust.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Fiction?”
“Yes, fiction,” I said, placing it in his hand. “You know, made-up stories with emotions, imagination, and people who do ridiculous things for love?”
He opened the first page, his expression unreadable. For the next few minutes, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the rustle of turning pages. Then, suddenly—
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