Chapter 3The Big Buyout

Julian Thorne sat alone in a corner, meeting my gaze through the crowd and the blaring music.

For some inexplicable reason, I felt paralyzed, unable to move a muscle.

Julian broke eye contact first.

He then downed the drink in his glass in one gulp.

He seemed to smirk, but quickly reverted to his usual aloof demeanor.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My heart rate suddenly spiked.

At the same time, an incredibly absurd thought flashed through my mind:

Could it be him?

I quickly dismissed the idea.

Ever since I met Julian, he had always been icy and distant.

He seemed like he didn't care about anything.

Every time I said hi to him, he would just give a curt nod.

He treated words like they were made of gold.

Forget having a crush on me; there was a time I thought he actually hated me.

"Maya Vance, have you gone mute? Say something!" Ethan waved his hand impatiently in front of my face.

I furrowed my brow and shook off his hand: "Don't you think I look good in this?"

As I spoke, I deliberately pushed my chest out.

Ethan looked like he was seasick.

I took another step forward, and he immediately covered his mouth and bolted for the restroom.

Ethan suffers from macromastia-induced vertigo.

It's a bizarre phobia, right?

What's even more bizarre is that, despite not being able to handle girls with large chests, he relentlessly pursued me back then.

As for how I found out about this condition...

It all stems from a hotel stay not too long ago.

I was finally ready to fully commit to Ethan.

But right at the crucial moment, the idiot literally passed out.

Furious, I dumped a bucket of cold water on him to wake him up.

Under my murderous glare, Ethan finally confessed.

He said he actually prefers the supermodel body type.

Slim waist, long legs, small chest.

And except for that last part, I was an exact match for his ideal type.

His confession made everything click.

No wonder he always made me wear a binder.

He claimed he was worried about other guys looking and making him jealous.

But the truth was, he was the one who couldn't handle it.

When he emerged from the restroom, Ethan walked over to me, his eyes darting around shiftily, and brought up the surgery again.

Before I could answer him, I suddenly received a text from an unknown number.

"You have a great body. Ethan is just blind. Don't get the surgery."

It was him!

I bit my lip and downed my sparkling water in one gulp.

I replied: "Restroom. Meet me?"