“I don’t think your company would appreciate you taking a month-long vacation to tote your leech across Europe.” “It’s my company, Elena. They’ll get over it. You’ll be my wife by then anyways, so consider it our honeymoon.” My jaw drops open. “Is that a proposal? Because I still don’t see a ring on my finger.” Christian grumbles and grabs his phone from the nightstand. After a few seconds of scrolling, he tosses it onto my lap. I’m staring at an email thread with a photo of an absurdly massive purple diamond. When I see the eight-figure price tag for said diamond, I dramatically roll over the
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