It was Rashad, I recognized a regular in this gossip at a glance.
He is Kent's only son, a playboy who knows everyone in the upper-class social circle of City A, and he changes girlfriends as frequently as changing clothes.
"Girl, you rock. When you open your mouth, you can poke this gentleman's pain." He said, pinching my chin.
I shook off in disgust and took a step back.
Kent frowned and yelled, "Rashad, what are you doing? Now that you're here, you can go back to your seat."
Rashad, as if he hadn't heard his father, took another step in front of me. “You look so familiar. What's your name again?"
The flatterer got up, walked up to Rashad and said, "Young Master, this is Krista, the daughter of the designer of the Cross River Bridge."
I turned and gave the man a cold look.
"So yo
