"Save it. I'm not interested." Elvis's voice cut through the air like ice, his dismissal absolute. "It's late. Get lost."
Yuki's face twisted in outrage. All that effort—hours spent perfecting her hair and makeup—just for this brush-off?
"Elvis, if you're still hung up on your childhood sweetheart, why the hell did you string me along?"
Spoiled rotten since birth, Yuki couldn't stomach being ignored like this. "You think that pretty face means you can treat me however you want?!"
"If you want to break up, I wouldn't lose sleep over it."
"You—!"
Humiliation burned through her. She stood frozen, eyes bulging, before stomping her designer heel in frustration.
Elvis finally turned, taking in her outfit—the skin-tight leather bustier exposing every curve, the fishnets that left little to
