THE TYCOON'S NEMESIS
๐๐จ๐จ๐ค 3 - ๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ฒ๐๐จ๐จ๐ง ๐๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฌ ๐๐๐๐ฏ๐ข๐ค ๐๐จ๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ก๐จ๐ญ๐ซ๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ข๐๐๐ก๐ข๐ฆ๐ ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ก๐๐ง๐ข๐ "This fucking Aadvik Roy Malhotra is fucking my brain cells!" "Will you please stop laughing, you dickhead?" I screamed in frustration, fighting the urge to bang my head against the wall. "Fine, Boss Lady," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He looked like something straight out of a mafia fantasy-and why was my traitorous mind even noticing how fucking hot he was? Sure, he was handsome, but more like a hot dog than anything else. I mentally rolled my eyes at my own hypocrisy. When I glanced at his face again, he burst into another fit of laughter. This duffer. I had half a mind to slam his head against the table until every single one of his perfect teeth fell out and his handsome face get ruined. "Will you stop, or do I need to leave you here alone, you wanker?" I snapped. He just looked at me with that infuriating smirk. "Women shouldn't curse," he drawled, which only made me roll my eyes harder. "Get fucked!" I shouted, beyond caring about his opinion.
