The Billionaire's Contractual Wife Is A Baddie
I wasn't trying to get involved in anybody's business, but I needed a book that was right next to where he was sitting, and when I reached for it, my hand bumped his notebook.
"My bad," I said.
He looked up, and his eyes was sharp. Intelligent. Assessing me the same way I'd been assessing the school.
"You need something?" he asked. Not mean. Just direct.
"Just the book."
He moved his stuff to give me space, and I grabbed what I needed. But as I was walking away, he said, "You're Eloise, right? The scholarship student?"
I turned back. "How'd you—"
"My pops works for the president. Sloane's father," he said. "People talk. They say you and Quinn got friendly."
Bab Populer