Scarlett was contemplating how to extricate herself from the male models when an unexpected voice came from behind her. “She chose me.”
Mr. Kingsley walked towards her. Scarlett turned to face him. If the first time he’d helped her out of a similar situation, she could attribute it to not knowing her identity, the repeated occurrences now aroused suspicion.
Such coincidences were perhaps not coincidences at all, but deliberate acts. But what was his motive?
Wesley saw through her thoughts. However, now was not the time for explanations. “Shall we go to a private room and talk?”
Scarlett, snapping back to reality, nodded. “Alright.”
Aware of Wesley’s status, the models reluctantly parted. As they walked, Wesley’s words startled her. “I helped you because you’re the person I’m supposed
