The billionaire's love
The door swung open, revealing John seated on the couch.
A glass of whiskey in his hand despite the early hour. Her eyes lifted to meet mine and, for a brief moment, I noticed how sober he was. Perhaps still in grief about Jessica.
“Hey, little doll, good morning,” he greeted. His voice was cold as much as he tried hiding his emotion; it still manifested in his voice.
“Are you sure you are alright? John,” I asked.
“uhm.. Yeah.. I mean yes, I'm fine,” he stuttered, unsure of his words.