His way was way broader than what's-his-name, Chen something or other.
Leda eyed him for a moment, a mix of amusement and disbelief in her gaze, as he stood there puffing his chest, the embodiment of confidence. "You sure you want to talk business with me?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Of course. What's with that look? You doubting me or something?"
Leda gave him a once-over, her gaze traveling from his head to his toes and back up again.
No need to even mention the Gibsons. In Lumina City's hierarchy of elite families, they were leagues above the Smiths.
Then there was York. A guy who took a slap without hitting back was a guy with a steady temper, a gentleman of sorts.
Sure, he was a bit of a playboy, surrounded by rumors, but it wasn't as if she was planning to marry the guy. Besides...
She wasn't exactly a saint herself. Perfect. There were no judgments and no strings attached.
Meeting at a club, they might even end up partying together.
The most important thing was, this man knew how to make a clean break. Sure, it made him a bit of a jerk, but in a way, it also meant he could let go easily.
No worries about messy breakups or lingering attachments.
The more Leda thought about it, the more suitable he seemed.
"Alright, let's talk inside?" she suggested.
York snorted, "Talk? Let's do it. Scared? Not me."
Leda smiled, satisfied. "What are you waiting for? Let's go." She grabbed his tie and gave it a tug.
York stumbled forward. "Hey!" he protested.
What's with the rough handling? Not exactly his idea of gentle.
...
Beverley was down for a couple of days after losing her grandson.
But it was just for a couple of days.
The thought of no longer having to deal with Millie, that wench, and never having to see her again lifted her spirits.
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