"This is the first time—and the last."

That's what Asher Keating told her, cold-faced and buttoning his shirt, after one night he never should have had.

Leah Sinclair was no one. A broke college student buried in debt after her grandmother's surgery, selling her evenings at a high-end escort club just to survive.

She wasn't supposed to end up in his bed.
He wasn't supposed to come back.

But he did.

After the second time and the third, Leah cursed viciously in her heart: "Damn man! You really can't trust a word men say."

Many years later, Asher looked at Leah sleeping beside him and sighed to himself: "Sure enough, you shouldn't be with the same woman more than three times, or you'll really be in for it."

Was it possession... or affection?

A choice that began as a transaction but became true love, with only the wish... to never forget their original intentions.

Asher Keating spoke as he took Leah Sinclair's hand. Turning sideways, he gestured and said, "President Peyton, Miss Peyton, please."


Liam Peyton and Phoebe Peyton exchanged a glance. Liam smiled and said, "Let's go in."


Asher Keating had booked a private room. After the four of them sat down and finished ordering, the server asked, "Are there any dietary restrictions?"


Leah Sinclair and Phoebe Peyton spoke at the same time. They exchanged a look, and Phoebe smiled faintly. "Second Miss Grant doesn't eat cilantro either?"


Leah Sinclair actually ate cilantro. It was just that Asher Keating didn't, so whenever they ate together, she always remembered.


The corners of Asher Keating's mouth curved up. He looked at Leah Sinclair and asked, "I just texted you. Why didn't you reply?"


Chapter 212 - Chapter 212: It Feels Like I'm Calling Myself