Poor Heir Millionaire
Jack rushed to help him, and the kids crowded around us, their faces filled with panic, fearing that something very bad might happen to their older brother.
"Guys, Ryan needs space to breathe," I said, hoping they'd move away a bit, but it was utterly futile.
If it hadn't been for our mother, who called them to gather with her on the other side of the field, they wouldn't have moved away from us.
Leaving Jack to do his work without interference, his lips had sealed completely, his eyes scanning Ryan's thigh, where he had to tear the pants a bit to examine the cut thoroughly.
"Will Brother Ryan be okay?" asked Brooke, her eyes teary, on the verge of crying. She was the only one who stayed by
Bab Populer