Go Away, I’m A Billionairess Now

Chapter 67



Go Away, I’m A Billionairess Now By Evie Cole Chapter 67

Go Away, I’m a Billionairess Now By Evie Cole Chapter 67 You Are Indeed a Ladykiller

Samara struggled for a moment, but she could get free from Roland’s arms.

She was pressed against Roland’s chest and all she could smell was his body fragrance.

She did not know what perfume Roland used. It was top notes of tangerine mixed with the smell of some unknown plants, base notes of the wood fragrance, just like his personality.

Samara did not want to cry. She thought, why would I cry?

Unable to break free, Samara could only look up at Roland. “Only kids cry.”

Hearing her words, Roland suddenly smiled. “Aren’t you a kid?”

When Roland smiled, his narrow eyes raised. His dark eyes were filled with a casual smile as he looked down at Samara. That look was so attractive.

Samara’s heart skipped a beat. Taking advantage of the moment when he let go of his hand, she struggled out of his embrace. She looked at him and smiled faintly, “Mr. Garza, you are indeed a lady– killer.”

For a moment, her heart was moved.

However, it was only for a moment. Samara knew very well that the man in front of her was even more dangerous

than Chaim.

It was not easy for her to come out from the entanglement with Chaim. She did not want to jump into another abyss again.

Roland narrowed his eyes slightly. “I never let other women cry in my arms.”

Samara raised her eyebrows. She had become much more clear–headed. “Is that so?”

As she spoke, she paused for a moment. “But I have no interest in these matters of yours.”

When she finished speaking, Samara’s hand had already landed on the door lock. With a light lift, the car door opened

with a click.

“Thank you for taking the time to comfort me, but I’m fine. It’s getting late. I…”

“Do you want to grab a late–night meal?”

Before Samara could finish speaking, the man beside her had already opened his mouth to cut her off.

On the way back, Samara had exposed her to big wind. At this time, she was having a headache. She shook her head and politely refused, “Sorry, I have a headache.”

“Alright, then rest early.”

Roland did not force her. His narrow eyes relaxed and he leaned against the back of the seat, watching her get out of the car and walk away step by step.

Samara took a few steps and turned back to look at Roland. He was sitting in the car with an unlit cigarette in his

hand, looking up at her.

To be honest, she couldn’t bear to see him looking at her like this.

Samara quickly took back her gaze and followed the person in front of her into the apartment.

After returning to the apartment, Samara turned on the hot water in the tub. After removing her makeup, she dripped

two drops of essential oil into the tub and then got inside.

What happened tonight was indeed a little embarrassing, but after the smoking and headache, it was time to forget. everything.

Just now, she had a headache. Now that she was soaking in the bathtub, with her entire body covered in warm water, she felt comfortable. However, Samara felt something wrong with her stomach.

She didn’t eat much at dinner, but she drank quite a bit of wine. It was normal for her stomach to go wrong.

However, she didn’t have the mood to cook or order takeout. She planned to stay in the tub for a while and then sleep.

Anyway, if she fell asleep, she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable anymore.

Thinking of this, Samara closed her eyes and enjoyed her bath for a few more minutes. It was not until the soothing music changed to another one that she got up and walked under the shower head.

When the doorbell rang, she was just about to turn off the lights and go to sleep.

It was around ten o’clock in the evening. Other than drunkards who went to the wrong door, Samara couldn’t think of

anyone else.

She turned off the lights and just as she lay down, the doorbell rang again. Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

It had rung two times.

Samara frowned slightly. She turned on the lights, put on her slippers, and walked out to open the door. “It’s you!“

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