Sold to the Mafia king
Before she could speak again, I cut in.
“Who are you to Kailen?”
Her head tilted.
“Oh,” she said lightly, “your stepbrother, you mean?”
“Cut that crap,” I snapped. “He means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
“Your denial doesn’t change the blood.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You share the same paternal line.”
Ignoring her words, I spoke, “I asked who you are to him.”
Quietude—
“I am Kailen’s wife.”
The words hit harder than the ice.
Bab Populer