Less than twenty-four hours later, Arabella woke up, but stupidly, instead of resting, she had left her residence, driving alone since afternoon and now she was in a nightclub in the heart of the city — making him almost violently slam his iPad. A growl escaped his mouth as he drove fast. Luckily, he was told by Marcelo about it when he was on a yacht on his way back to Manhattan.
And here he is, splitting the crowd that was dancing wildly filled with the thick smell of alcohol and s*x to get into the private sections. Well, at least Arabella is a little smart because she prefers private space over mingling with some man-w***e.
There she was, in casual clothes that hugged her body perfectly. A smile spread across his lips, strangely his anger vanished in an instant like dust swept away b
