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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: Perfect Gentleman.

Roman places a plate of diced chicken in front of me. I ignore it just like I had ignored every other food he had placed in front of me.

I push my rice around the plate, not in the least bit concerned that Roman had told me ‘to stop sulking’. Well, fuck him. If he didn't want me to sulk, then he shouldn't go around terrorizing people around me.

“I didn't kill him.” Roman says in a solemn tone that catches me by surprise.

I glare at him, gripping my fork tightly in a fist. In the short period we've been here, I've considered stabbing him with this fork more than a thousand times. “It's nice to know you still have a working moral compass.”

“Anything for you, Princess.” Roman says with a smirk probably happy that he was able to get a rise out of me.

“I was being sarcastic.” I say to him not concerned that I was falling directly into his trap.

“How is your job going at the bookshop?” Roman asks in between bites.

“It's going extremely well, considering I don't have to see you there a
Iris

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