Bella's life takes an unexpected turn when her husband is arrested as a suspect in the murder of his colleague. She will do anything to get the love of her life out of jail.
The only problem is, she will be facing her sworn enemy, Adam Walton, in c...
I arrived at the gym in 15 minutes. It was quarter to six in the evening, so I quickly sent Rendell a text to eat dinner without me and to ignore Grandi.
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I enter the complex, without scanning my membership card but my eye, thanks to a retinal detector.
This gym has the honor of being ambitious, and not just a little. A boxing ring, tennis courts by eight, a life-size climbing wall, and of course training machines, no less than 400. But this luxury comes at a price, of 30,000 dollars per year.
The gym has high-quality exercise equipment. It provides state-of-the-art facilities and special amenities and features. The gym also provides spa facilities like steam rooms, three swimming pools, and saunas. The whole gym has a contemporary interior design.
There aren't many people here today.
I change into my black Nike sweatpants, and a black sports bra paired with running shoes. I tie my medium-length wavy hair in a ponytail. I am moving towards the treadmill, a white cotton towel in my hand when I hear a familiar deep voice. I turn my head to see where the voice is coming from.
Not him. Not the devil. Not today. There, Adam Walton is, sitting casually on a chest press machine wearing gray Adidas shorts paired with cross-training shoes. He's shirtless. I repeat. The man is shirtless. I mean, come on, wear a shirt. Nobody wants to see your abs.
He's busy talking on his phone. He hasn't noticed me yet. I decide to give him some privacy, but I can't move, as I am starstruck by his abs. They were 6 the last time I counted them, but now I can clearly count 2 more. Is he even real? We love the feeling of nice six-pack abs. Eight. I correct. By we, I mean women, me excluded. This thirst trap is not going to work on me, Adam Walton. I roll my eyes.
I try my best to ignore his 8 packs and veiny hands. My eyes go to his left arm which is full of tattoos. His tattoos are really cool. He always gives me Jungkook of BTS' vibe, because of his abs and tattoos. I know. I know. Big insult for Jungkook. His lean muscular body looks tense. I try to focus on what he is saying on the phone.
''What are you talking about?''
''No.''
''Don't even touch Bella without my fucking permission, or I will burn your filthy hands,'' Wait. What? He did not just say my name. My fucking name. I must be hallucinating. Who does he think he is?
''Because Bella is mine. No one touches what's mine,'' Alright. This is too much. I'm not his. He better be kidding. How can he take my name so casually? I should confront him with a punch, but he looks angry and I don't talk to angry people.
He is sighing a lot. His eyes look beautiful from this angle, but I don't give a damn about his pretty forest-green eyes.
