Ronald Wright’s brows were drawn tight, his gaze dark.
“How should I know your heart has room for every guy? One you’re protecting, another you’re running around for. George Harrison caused trouble, and you actually came all the way here for him. Isabella Carter, are you just generous like that with everyone?”
Paul Allen sensibly made his exit, shutting the door behind him without needing to be told.
I shot Ronald a glare. “It’s my choice. You wanna talk, fine. If not, I’m out.”
It took a lot of persuasion for me to show up—he clearly had something to say.
Leaning back against the headboard, his features were sharp and cool, unreadable.
“If you walk out now, I’ll hand George over to the cops.”
I stared straight at him. The face I once adored, now just made me feel an
