Cindy smiled, her glittering eyes flashing with a trace of disgust.
No wonder Patrick felt sick—she did too.
“Hello, Miss Wilson,” a woman said. “My name is April. Written like the number four and the word for moon.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss April,” Carol replied with a gentle smile. Then she looked affectionately at Patrick. “Mr. Dawson, how long will you be staying this time?”
It was extremely difficult to get information about Patrick’s schedule. She had spent a fortune just to find out his whereabouts.
Patrick glanced at her from the corner of his eye, picked up his wine glass, and took a small sip. The deep red wine reflected in his eyes, giving him an enchanting, almost devilish aura.
“Maybe I won’t be leaving,” he said indifferently.
The vague reply made Carol’s heart flutter.
