Chapter 87

Chapter 87

Another voice interrupted. "What about Nathan's proposal? Did you really just reject him in front of everyone?"

I turned to face them, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement. They were so focused on the ring, as if that was the biggest scandal here. "Yes, it's the Heart of the Moon," I replied, raising my hand again so they could get a better look. "And as

for Nathan-he's my ex-husband. There's nothing more to say."

But of course, that wasn't enough for them. They kept pushing, their questions

becoming more invasive. "Did you break up Sienna and Nathan's family?" one reporter asked, shoving a microphone toward me.

"No," I said firmly, but they wouldn't stop. Another voice rang out. "Is there any truth to the rumors that you've been secretly seeing Nathan this whole time?"

I shook my head, feeling frustration build inside me. This wasn't what I had come here for. I glanced around, looking for an exit, but the crowd was too thick. Just as

I was about to snap at them, I saw Issca's car pull up outside the venue.

Issca waved from the driver's seat. "Doris, over here!"

I didn't need to be told twice. I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and

questions behind me, and made my way to the car. As soon as I climbed in, Issca hit the gas. The tires screeched against the pavement as we sped away, leaving the

the venue behind

mirror, I saw several cars following us, their headlights glaring in the fading light. Issca glanced at me, his face set with determination. "Hold on

10:08

Keeps this Bleus Bisioner Sove

Chapter 87

and we shot forward, weaving in and out of traffic with

made my heart race. The city

streets, the reporters trailing

veins. "They're not going to let us go that

focused on the

down narrow streets, barely avoiding

wind whipped through the open windows, and I could feel my pulse quickening with each sharp

if this

cars were struggling to keep pace. I watched as one of them

sharply to the right, cutting off the car in a daring maneuver.

shrugged, his expression calm.

city lights flashing by in a blur. The reporters were still on our tail, but they were losing ground. Issca took another sharp turn, and I held onto the seat as the car tilted slightly, the tires gripping the asphalt. The rush from our wild escape started to wear off. I

the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

I asked, my

I've been keeping up with everything you've

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