"s**t"
The last thing I ever expect to happen to me was my three hundred dollars dress ripping from behind, showcasing all of my covered assets to everyone present in the room.
Currently, I stood at the corner of a large ballroom, holding a flute of champagne uncomfortable plastering a forced smile on my face greeting those passing by—or wanted to start a conversation; my raging eyes went them on their heels.
The sophisticated way everyone in the room lifted their shoulders proudly irk me a lot.
So fake, I snorted in disgust.
My mind wandered back to how I found myself here in the first place, to begin with. My father Connor Morgan; well know man with a high standard reputation, though hard strong out—but a softy inside.
My father has always been my inspiration, a man with quality, s
