Owned by the Fighter
When Belle accidentally glanced into Bastian’s room, she gasped and quickly turned away, heart pounding.
He was sleeping. Shirtless. Only in boxers.
Belle’s skin prickled all over. She scurried into Anthony’s room, trying to shake the image from her mind.
On Anthony’s desk, several identical black bubble-wrapped packages sat in a row. Belle groaned. Which one was it supposed to be?
She picked one up and gave it a shake, hoping to guess the contents.
“What’s in these, anyway?” she muttered.
“Matcha.”
The deep, groggy voice startled her so severely she let out a small squeak. Belle turned around to see Bastian leaning against the doorframe, covering a yawn with his hand.
Bab Populer