"Where are you rushing off to?"
Wyatt Hawthorne watched coldly as Faye Vaughn put on a bathrobe, wrapping herself up tightly.
The meaning was clear—she didn't want him to touch her.
"Why do you care where I'm going?" Faye Vaughn tilted her head, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Maybe I'm in a hurry to meet another man?"
Wyatt Hawthorne's eyes darkened. "You should know I don't fall for this playing-hard-to-get routine."
"Is that so? Not that I care whether you fall for it or not."
Faye Vaughn nonchalantly tightened the belt of her bathrobe and turned to find her phone.
She settled onto the sofa and switched to her alternate WeChat account.
Vincent Hawthorne had sent a ton of messages.
He was clearly frantic—or to be more precise, he was angry.
The usually calm and refined Lawyer Hawthorne was starting to lose his composure.
[Audrey, where are you?]
[I know you were having dinner with my older brother. I'm at the restaurant now. Where are you?]
