Kiara pov
Do I really overwork myself?
With my hands crossed, and my eyes darting around the elevator I asked myself this question over and over again.
Maybe I did.
Then when my heart goes back to how my husband had saved and touched me earlier I can't help but blush. In fact, my entire body still has the awareness of his hand all over me and his manly scent in the air.
Gosh! My husband is freaky handsome and all no wonder other girls always want him to notice them.
I was slightly grateful for the privacy I had in the empty elevator, and as I started going down every floor I thought it would remain that way until somebody suddenly stopped and a pair of long nails pushed the door open again, or and somebody else joined me.
Following her was a thick waft of perfume that almost evacuat
