Margaux’s world stopped when the dangerous voice tore through her rants. Her heart banged her chest together with the thinning air. Then slowly, she lifted her head until she was looking at his face.
To her surprise, the man before her wasn't wearing anything fancy at all. Instead, he was in a pair of jeans and a black hoodie. But, of course, that shouldn't be since the celebration in the function hall was all about him. He was Mr. Rossu's client—the bridegroom himself.
"What the—Greg?" She felt a sudden gush of fear and confusion wash her belly. He was looking at her disdainfully, and it was making her want to run. "How... Why are you— Isn't this supposed to be your engagement party?"
"Crowd isn't my thing, baby," he cut her off with a grim smile. And for a moment, she thought she saw
