Cecilia was fuming, flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. It wasn't typical for a mother to interrupt her son's feast. But worry had driven her to it, fearing that the person with him was none other than that little vixen. And to her dismay, her suspicions were confirmed.

She shot Quintessa a glare, "You're making things up. You just got here; it couldn't have finished so fast."

Quintessa casually draped an arm over Tyrone's shoulder, "Oh, but why not? Your son's always been quick."

Tyrone, already short on patience, darkened at her words. Quick? He hadn't even gotten to the good part yet. How could she say he was quick?

Tyrone turned around and his face immediately darkened.

Quintessa was wearing one of his oversized T-shirts, no one knows how she found it so quickly.

The men's clothes hung on her like a dress, making her look even more fragile and petite. She leaned forward, allowing him to look down the collar from his angle, seeing everything at a glance. Her slender and straight legs, as tender as newly sprouted willow branches in early spring.

This version of Quintessa reignited the flame Tyrone's mom had momentarily doused.

said, "Who are

teasing, "You, obviously. Did

taken aback,

you say you made something

"I made it for my son,

the kitchen,

herself from her arms, "Stop pulling me. The sight of you

laughed it

because you're going to be seeing a lot

son

smitten,

to stock up

that she couldn't utter

son was right; she couldn't outplay this sly vixen, especially when her son didn't take her

way downstairs, Tyrone's face

the door, "What was I thinking? A

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255