Bronn
Emily Carter... the woman who lingered in my thoughts long after we last saw each other. Her natural scent, plump lips with a touch of mayonnaise, dark coffee-colored hair, tiny waist, and even the curve of her breast beneath a thick top—all of her simplicity haunted my mind like a persistent virus.
Perhaps I was a werewolf in a past life.
“Bronn, I know my granddaughter is still too young for you, but it's fine. Sarah is a nice young woman. She's working hard on different things,” Grandpa Mitchell interrupted, his weathered face creasing with a knowing smile. As my longtime mentor in finance and stock market strategy, his words held significant influence.
“Bronn is doing really well, too. He's made a name for himself in the tech industry. You don't need to worry about either o
