Cheryl
I mouthed a quick thank you to the kind gentleman who opened the car door for me.
“You’re welcome, ma’am,” he responded.
Ma’am?
Weird. Do I look that old already?
Shaking off the thought, I walked into Tonyhan, memories of my first day here flooding back. I had walked in as a helpless girl—one being tossed into a marriage she didn’t want, one who couldn’t even afford to pay for her internship uniform.
Now?
Now, I walk around with a giant stone on my finger, married to a billionaire who also happens to be the CEO—one who, of course, adores me.
“Hannah,” I waved at the receptionist like I always did.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Han. I hope you’re having a great day?” she said, her tone formal.
I froze for a second.
Mrs. Han?
When did she start calling me that?
Weird. Again.
I
