When Amelia got back to her bedroom, she was surprised to see it covered in boxes of expensive clothing. She was touched. She knew it was the same thing he did for every one of his mistresses, and it shouldn't matter. But no man had ever bought her clothing before. No man had ever taken the time to pick out things for her. Not even Brad. He had never cared about her preferences, had never surprised her with anything that wasn’t meant to benefit him.
And yet here she was, standing in the middle of a penthouse in Paris, surrounded by more wealth than she had ever dreamed of, all because of Andrew.
Amelia hesitated at the doorway, her eyes scanning the carefully placed boxes stacked on the bed, the chair, even the vanity table. Each one bore the name of an exclusive designer, the kind she h……
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