Bad Contract with the Billionaire Devil
The crew murmured thanks and started tapping their orders on the tablets in front of them: sushi rolls, tempura, sake.
“This is incredible, Mr. Smith,” one of the cameramen said, sounding genuinely impressed.
“I’m not eating what he ordered,” I cut in, glaring at Liam as I started tapping on my own screen. “I’ll order for myself.”
Liam didn’t even look at me. He just shook his head slightly and kept scrolling through his phone.
A moment later, it buzzed, and he stood up, walking toward the large shoji window. He stared out at the lanterns and the ponds, one hand in his pocket.
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