I Was About to Marry My Mistress, 30 Years Younger Than Me.
Then, her rehearsed smile returned to her lips.
“Do not do anything you will deeply regret later, Jonathan,” she whispered in a low tone.
I looked directly into her cold eyes.
“I think I have already done plenty of things I regret.”
Without another word, I turned around and walked away toward the hotel exit.
Rebecca’s car was parked around the back of the building.