Bad Contract with the Billionaire Devil
Before I could even think of a response, Lucy, who had been standing behind the bench, reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back with a sudden, violent force.
“Ow! Stop it!” I cried out, my hands flying up to my scalp to try and loosen her grip.
“Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast, bitch,” Lucy hissed, shoving me back down when I tried to stand up.
The girls erupted into laughter, enjoying my struggle like it was a spectator sport.
“Look at this coat,” Barbra remarked, her fingers trailing over the fine charcoal wool. “This isn't Willow Creek thrift. This is the real deal.”
Bab Populer