Running into both George and Camille on the same day, Mirena couldn't help but feel like she suddenly was facing bad luck.
With a frown that could be mistaken for a scowl, Mirena attempted to pull her wrist free almost instantly.
George's grip didn't budge, not even when she fixed him with a glare.
“Mr. George Ashton, what's the meaning of this?” Her tone came out ice cold and for a second, there was a flash of something in George's eyes—surprise? Regret?
She couldn't decipher which and quite honestly, didn't want to.
“I sent you a message, Mirena,” George said at last, eyes locked on hers. “And you ignored me.”
“I blocked you,” Mirena corrected. “Because I don't see any valid reason to waste my time conversing with a stranger.”
“Stranger,” George echoed, a tick appe
