I Was About to Marry My Mistress, 30 Years Younger Than Me.
“What message?”
Rebecca gripped the leather steering wheel tightly.
“She said, ‘Dad urgently needs to know the real reason why I hated Florence from the very start.’”
I closed my eyes in deep pain as dark memories flooded my mind.
I remembered every heated argument I had with Christina over the past two years.
I remembered every door she had slammed in frustration.