Billionaire's runaway bride

el

uy on a bus. I tightened my grip on my bag and kept my gaze fixed on the window, silently willing him to drop it and leave

light but insistent, like he wasn't go

glance back at him. His expression was expectant, his dark eyes gl

y it sounded on his tongue. He nodded slightly, a

to the window. I didn't have the energy

his curiosity palpable. "So, where are you running away to?" he asked, his t

ped, the words tumbling out to

Let me guess. Bad breakup? Lost your job? Or maybe you

thin. "Why do you care?" I demanded

smack the smirk off his face. "But you're the most interest

clutching my bag tighter. Apparently, I

edge. "Humor me. You've got this whole mysterious

te. There was no way I was going to tell this stranger the truth. He didn't need to know a

ing my voice as neutral as possible. It wasn't a

it? No dramatic story? No big scandal?" he pressed, his

phasis. I hoped it would convey just h

dence that made me want to scream. "Fine. Keep your secr

take the hint and finally leave me alone. I could still feel his gaze on me for a few

-

's P

d, too put-together. She looked more like someone who'd stumbled into a storm, gotten drenched, and hadn't figured out how to dry off yet

ough more than just a few miles. But it wasn't just her clothes that gave her away. It was the way she sat, hunched slightly forward, clutching her bag like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

finitely running

till, there was something about her that caught my attention, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Maybe it was the way she tried so hard to act like she had it all

force a conversation where it wasn't wanted. But there was something about her silence, about the way she carried herself, that ma

d us. The road ahead was barely visible, just a faint line illuminated by the bus's dim headligh

ar, and right now, that was what I needed. Maybe she needed it too. Or maybe she was just another lost soul passing throug