Chapter 10
A warm look glimmered in Karen’s eyes. “The Mortons raised you well. You’ve had a rough time with us, haven’t you?”
Alessia shook her head but didn’t mention anything about her life with the Mortons. In truth, the Mortons were either cold or downright crazy; if she’d turned out halfway normal, it was thanks to someone else’s influence entirely.
By the time they got home, Karen was already bustling in the kitchen, getting lunch ready. Alessia sank into a chair and started replying to her messages.
“Miss Morton, have you finally finished up your endless paperwork?” The message popped up at ten in the morning–clearly the sender knew her schedule all too well.
“You mocking me?” Alessia’s fingers flew over the screen. She hit send at eleven–thirty, a good hour and a half later, but the reply came back instantly.
“Wouldn’t dare.” Cole Whitley sent a groveling animated sticker.
Alessia smirked and shot back a playful punch emoji.
“So, I guess you’re living the good life? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have tossed two suitcases at my place and then ghosted me.”
She was used to Cole’s nonsense and responded with a random sticker, not bothering to engage.
“When are you coming by?” he texted again, quick as ever.
“I’ll find a time in the next couple of days.”
I get you
wandered into the kitchen, where Karen handed her a
open a restaurant. You’d put
go set the table–it’s almost ready.” Karen ruffled her hair,
and obediently grabbed the
downtown office, a young man in a stiff, ill–fitting suit sat at his desk. He twirled a pen
1/3
15:36
in thought.
sounded at the door. “Come in,” Cole said, barely glancing up,
the latest bid
desk,” he replied, voice a
be heading out.” Larkin Yardley, all of twenty–five but with the stoic face of
stopped twirling the pen
something else,
I gave her that place for her birthday, and she’s only ever glanced at it once. If she doesn’t like it, she could just say so! The westside place is almost ready too, but why would she want to live somewhere so cramped? None of those apartments are bigger than her old bedroom. She’s been pampered her whole life–why’s she acting like she’s used
used to the absurd dilemmas of the wealthy, kept his composure. “Miss Morton is a very independent and
look. “You think I don’t know that? Can’t you
a bit
Cole clenched his jaw, lips
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