Chapter 247
~Annie~
I was busy with my Canvas when Clinton came in.
Clinton looked exhausted. He has been trying to build up his company well since his father's prison chronicles.
His tailored suit jacket was gone, his crisp white shirt sleeves were rolled unevenly to his elbows, and his silk tie was loosened so far it hung precariously from his open collar.
He didn't say a word. He just walked straight toward me, his dark eyes locked onto mine with an absolute, quiet gravity.
I set my palette down on the rolling cart, not even caring about the wet blue paint smudged across my canvas apron, and stepped into his space. Before I could say a single word, Clinton reached out, his large hands catching me by the waist, and pulled me flush against his chest.
