The Unwanted Marriage
"Jarros, where's MJ? Do call her."
Jarros, her husband, got up to stand, his face set in a hint of annoyance. His movement was checked by his wife's gentle hand. "No need, she's here."
We sat with our backs to the door, and the Andals stood facing it. I turned around, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. Two women entered. One, a vision of beautifully crafted glamour, was dressed in a red sheath that hugged every curve, her blonde hair beautifully styled, her face a work of beautifully painted cosmetics. The other.
Bab Populer