Once I was finished, I went directly to the bar.
My eyes landed on the man standing outside the bar entrance. His red polo sleeves are rolled up to his arms. It fits him well. Even though it’s not a checked shirt, it still hugs his fit body. His grey pants suit his leather shoes that scream I’m expensive even in the dim light entrance of the bar. His hair is the same as before.
He’s tapping his foot, and looks like he is irritated.
Hmm
Mr. Billionaire doesn’t like to wait.
He doesn’t have patience at all. I was observing his behavior. I don’t want to get married to someone who isn’t, especially to someone he cares about.
But why am I complaining? We are not married because of love. We got married accidentally. It was never meant to happen, but it did.
Weston glared a
