Donovan, sitting on the desk in his home study gripped his hand tightly on the tab he held, ire and morbid curiosity coursing through him as he read the words, his lips quirked in a smile at the story painted. He, one of the parties in the story, as unknowing of the plot as any random netizen.
It amazed him really, how someone could take the time to fabricate such nonsense with so little truth or backing to it. He hummed, as he looked up the model who he had supposedly impregnated and crudely given her money to abort the child. And also the supposed years of abuse he'd inflicted on the poor soul.
It was laughable, he thought. As he looked at the picture of the woman. Aria Vaughn. She was pretty. But wasn't his type at all. She was tall with a thin wiry frame. Her bone structure all sharp
