I Stopped Waiting and Started Loving novel Chapter 8

"Don't!"

She yelled before remembering there was someone else in the apartment, hastily lowering her voice.

"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore, so don't do anything rash. And he didn't latch onto a sugar mommy. He... is a billionaire heir himself."

Bonnie let out a self-deprecating laugh.

The heir to the York family didn't need a sugar mommy.

Jasmine, like her, was an ordinary girl who had hustled her way out of their small town.

Jasmine had worked incredibly hard to land a decent job at that high-end private restaurant in Harlow City. Bonnie couldn't let her best friend offend Parrish York because of her.

Especially since one word from that man could get Jasmine fired on the spot.

On the other end of the line, Jasmine was utterly bewildered.

"Wait, Bonnie, explain yourself. What do you mean he's a billionaire heir? Wasn't he completely broke..."

Just as Jasmine was about to press for details...

Click.

The sound of a door opening came from right behind Bonnie.

Bonnie's spine went rigidly straight. She quickly whispered into the phone, "I'll explain everything later. I have to go."

With that, she hung up and spun around.

Quentin stood in the doorway of the master bedroom.

He was wearing a loose, gray silk loungewear set. The collar was slightly open, revealing a sliver of pale, lean collarbone.

He was incredibly tall, with broad shoulders and long legs. His messy black hair fell across his forehead, softening his sharp edges slightly, but it did nothing to mask the innate coldness in his bones.

His facial features were strikingly deep—a high brow bone, a straight nose, and thin, pale lips.

But it was his eyes that stood out the most. Narrow and stunning, the outer corners slanted slightly downward. Even though they held no discernible emotion, they were as cold as looking through a layer of frost.

It felt like he was looking at you, yet simultaneously looking right through you.

Bonnie's breath hitched, and she instinctively gripped her phone tighter.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked nervously. "I'll take my calls in my room from now on."

Quentin said nothing. He merely cast a cold glance at her before striding toward the dining room.

His imposing height radiated pure intimidation. As he walked past her, Bonnie unconsciously took a half-step back to get out of his way.

Stopping at the dining table, Quentin's gaze fell on the three dishes laid out.

Inside the clay pot, comforting oat and yam porridge bubbled gently, giving off a light, appetizing aroma.

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