The Stripping Heiress
Clara, Williams, and even Luca disappeared, leaving me in the sitting room with one man.
He introduced himself as Adam. Elegant suit. Perfect tie. Expensive shoes. His accent was smooth and British, his voice calm, like he’d trained himself to never raise it. I had no idea if Adam was his first name or his last. He didn’t explain, and I didn’t ask.
“There are three things we’re going to work on today, Hailey,” Adam said, folding his hands together neatly on the table between us. “After the attack this morning, there will be more interest in your story than ever before. Not just yours—your sister’s as well.”
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