After a long afternoon with Rhys’ mother— who, by the way, I hated spending every second with— Rhys and I left because clearly the woman had plans to stay in the Mikhailov mansion for the next few nights and I was in absolutely no mood to spend any more time with her.
Rhys seemed to share my opinion and so, as soon as we could, we left the place and are now heading towards my house in the city.
And throughout the ride, Rhys has been fuming in his place beside me but he has been silent, except to give the chauffeur directions for our destination.
“Why don’t you just leave if it is so difficult for you to spent time with me?” I snap at him, finally unable to hold my tongue for any longer just as our car moves along the driveway of my own manor in the countryside, “your disdain is more
