COPYRIGHT © 2017 Miu
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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the Author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All pictures and multimedia used are not the author’s work and doesn’t claim any legal rights.
MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.
His gaze lowered to her smooth snow-white neck, down to her prominent collarbones, and down more to her soft, proud breasts.
He quickly shifted his gaze back to her eyes when his body temperature increased, and that particular bulging area soared in attention.
He heard his grandfather called her ‘Leanna.’
So she is called Leanna. He thought, murmuring her name. The taste of her name on his tongue was sweet.
She answered his grandfather, irritation in her mellow voice as she continued to observe him, studying his face. Oddly, he was enjoying himself as they ogled each other. As if no one else was there, but them.
“Alright, I’m done memorizing his face.”
A cold bucket of water burned his face, rudely awakening him back to reality.
Her expression no longer held admiration and excitement. Instead, replaced by indifference, aloofness, and discomfort.
He was puzzled. One moment, she was worshipping him. The next, she was avoiding his gaze like he was disgusting.
The corner of his eyes spotted his grandfather’s smirk.
He thought that she was like any other woman, who upon seeing him, would become desperate for his attention.
At the course of the dinner, he was looking at her, studying her every movement. The way she sliced her meat and put it in her mouth with grace. When she sipped her wine and licked her lips in refine movements. She was elegant about it, but he still spotted the uneasy in her actions. Like she wanted to finish quickly and ran away.
When his grandfather proposed for him to accompany her to explore New York, he knew that the old man was helping him in gaining her trust in secret. He grabbed the opportunity and asked for her number.
Any girl would jump from joy at getting his number –– but not this girl, apparently. He was surprised when she refused. Annoyed, they bickered.
After realizing that he would not gain her trust in a roundabout way, he used the direct approach.
He gave her the proposal of Azuela Cove.
When she proposed her demand to be his consultant, he hesitated. No one in his life negotiated with him like the girl did. Others would grab the opportunity to work under him for rewards, recognition, and fame. But he could tell that she was not interested in fame, power nor money –– and she was about to leave!
Realizing that he couldn’t win against her, he gave in. A bit hesitant, but he agreed, nonetheless.
She then was about to leave, and before he registered what he was doing, his hand already grabbed hers. His face inched closer to her. He too was stunned with his actions, and quickly regained himself.
But seeing her blush, he was enchanted and blurted out that he wanted her number, complete with a teasing grin on his face.
He wanted to kill himself. Never did he hear himself so desperate for a woman’s number.
When she still refused, the shattering sound of his pride echoed in his ears.
Annoyed and somewhat angry, he teased her into submission.
After giving him her number, she dashed to exit the restaurant while trying to maintain her poise and image.
He almost laughed.
Wanted to teased her some more, he dialed her number. But much to his chagrin, she cuts him off.
He didn’t know that he was smiling as he shook his head. He faced his grandfather, who was staring at him with a smirk on his face. He cleared his throat and composed himself.
“What do you think?” his grandfather asked.
He was quiet for a moment, finding the right words to describe her.
“She’s . . . different.”
Luke’s laughter echoed throughout the room, which garnered some eyes towards them.
“Let me tell you this,” he said, “don’t put her on the same level as most girls you’ve met.”
His grandfather then took a sip from his wine, and with a gentle tone added, “She doesn’t care about power, status, wealth . . .”
Luke paused and stared into his eyes. “Nor matters of the heart,” he finished, emphasizing the last words.
Thanks, grandfather, for your late warning. Zhander sneered in his head.
“You seem to regard her highly,” he said instead.
“Of course, who do you think advise me to fund your ridiculous, unconventional projects?”
Zhander almost dropped his glass, his head snapping at his grandfather.
He always believed that his grandfather funded his projects mainly because he was blood-related and favored grandson, and of course, because of his abilities.
I should have known better.
Luke Jansen was a businessman above all else. When it came to money, he wouldn’t bat an eyelid. Blood-related or not.
“So it’s her . . . ,” he whispered, a weak smile spreading on his face.
Honestly, he didn’t feel any grievances. Instead, he was relieved. If Leanna approved his projects, it was like she also approves of him.
“She’s only what? Eighteen?” he asked, not really interested in the answer.
He choked. After much coughing, he gave his grandfather an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it? She started investing at the age of ten when others her age were busy playing houses. Now her net worth is not too far off from yours.”
Luke stared at the skyline as he continued, “If she can only be more ambitious, who knows how far she’ll go.”
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