Don't read for now
sand conversations.
Ss dd
Alan Tang, however, existed in his own bubble of quiet anxiety, a stark contrast to the superstar persona he projected.
He leaned against a pillar, the sharp lines of his designer suit doing little to disguise the subtle tension in his shoulders. He'd been gone for over a week—a grueling schedule of international catwalks and a high-stakes ad campaign that had stretched his return date further than he'd liked.
Honestly, he was a wreck. His sister, Everly, was a human-shaped black hole for trouble, a walking, talking catastrophe magnet.
While he was away, he could only pray that her two… fiances… were actually doing their jobs and not just standing around looking pretty.
It was a ridiculous thought, because Everly could probably disarm a bomb with a paperclip and a sassy remark, but the worry was a persistent, low-grade fever in his mind.
