Your mouth popped open. Was he being serious? Was he looking down at your job? At least you weren't killing people and filling your banks with blood money, you sneered.
"Uh to pay rent? Buy groceries? Travel?" You spoke, tone patronizing as if explaining it to a young kid.
Probably sensing your tone and disengagement, he steered the conversation towards another topic.
"You like traveling? Is that why you're going to Paris?" He asked, twirling the whiskey that was in glass in his hand.
Watching the amber liquid swirl, you jolted out of your carbohydrate-induced bliss.
"How'd you know I'm going to Paris?"
YOU ARE READING
KILL TO KISS YOU
RomantikWARNINGS: Inappropriate language, explicit smut (18+), violence, guns, descriptions and mentions of dead bodies, threats and implications of sexual assault, yandere themes etc.
