Purchased Wife
owning a Rolex meant owning women. He leaned into her space, his breath hot, smirk smug. “How much would it take to get you to come to a hotel with me right now?” Anna blinked once. “Sorry?” “I said—” “I heard you,” she cut in, voice very sharp. “I just wanted to give you time to realize how catastrophically stupid that question was.” He chuckled, clearly not catching on. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re clearly into the attention.” “Oh, darling,” Anna drawled, standing to her full, modelesque height. “Everything you’re wearing….I could buy three times over, burn it in front of you, and you’d walk home as naked as the day your poor mother regretted having you.” His face darkened.
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