Mrs Reluctant Billionaire
maramarthai want her to know it was mei regret hurting hershe took the house, the car, and my heartto never lose her again
Vincent’s paddle sits on his laps, I watch it like my life depends on it, drumming my fingers on my leg to keep bad thoughts away.
“Going for £50,000,” Jackson says to the small crowd of men.
A murmur rips through the dark hall, I fold my arms and lean back to observe the bobbing heads when nobody makes a move. Vincent waves his paddle, a corner of my lips twitches. Pointing a finger in Vincent’s direction, Jackson screams into his microphone, “We have a buyer for £100,000 gentlemen.”
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