Sir Ares, Goodnight

Josie sang the next line, "Ooh, you know I love it when you call me senorita. I wish it wasn't so damn hard to leave ya."

Rose continued, "But every touch is ooh-la-la-la. It's true la-la-la. Ooh, I should be running, Ooh, you keep my coming for ya."

Despite its melodious tune, the song ended up warped beyond recognition from the two drunkards, sounding worse than mourners at a funeral.

Grayson's heart skidded and fell at the women's intonations, shooting up to the clouds only to drop down to hell. Grayson sighed silently, thinking, 'With the way they're singing, you'd think they're out for blood!'

After much effort, they finally got the two women into the staff residency. Then, Jay instructed Grayson and the rest, "Wait for me outside!" Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Immediately, Grayson's and the bodyguards' expressions brightened at the prospect of freedom.

They fled faster than hares from predators.

Worn out from all the singing, Josephine lay on the sofa as her voice slowly drifted off. "I love it when you call me senorita."

Then, her eyes closed as she fell asleep.

Rose, however, was a nonconformist. For how quiet and gentle she was usually, she became rowdy and unrestrained when drunk.

Jay carried her to the bed only for her to crawl and stand on the mattress.

that she would fall onto the floor, he lay her down on the bed

again, she stubbornly

held her down

glared at him. "What are you

expression adorable, he could not help but tease her a

her face, his long fingers landing on the

on her pliant demeanor, she got Jay to let his guard down before she suddenly turned her head to

Rose Loyle! What are you,

sides of her mouth, forcing Rose to let go. She then muttered with a pout."

that she was

she still subconsciously saw herself as

his fingertip, making Jay frown in

me," Jay spoke

you get for

expression was dark.

"Josie!"

"She's a woman!"

placing these two weirdos together was a recipe for

understand each other. We sympathize with each other, and maybe we'll even get

stared at Josephine's sharp crew

was not the only one who needed therapy after all. He should have a psychiatrist look at his impulsive