Renting Billionaire Boyfriend
The woman, Iris, looks at me briefly, disdain flickering across her face before she turns her full attention to him.
“Did you get the call from your grandfather?” she asks sweetly, the smile on her face thin, forced. Soren’s expression darkens.
“No,” he replies, his voice cold.
Iris smiles wider. “When you do, call me, sweetheart.” She waves and walks away, not sparing me another glance. The loathing I feel for her is instant, instinctual.
“Is she your girlfriend?” I ask, unable to hide my disgust.
Soren’s reply is a low growl. “I don’t date. Only casual flings.”
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