_Zarelle’s POV_
“Miss Feymere, I’ve heard so much about you. You’re even more stunning in person than in those internet photos. How about we get to know each other?”
The young man brazenly sat down across from me, taking up the seat intended for Elsa.
I raised an eyebrow, instantly recognizing his type—entitled, obnoxious, insufferable.
The man wore a white Luxoré t-shirt, the uniform of Luparis’s rich playboys who had a fat wallet and too much time on their hands.
I had no interest in wasting my time on such a man, not even a second.
If I were to look for someone new, I wouldn’t start by rummaging through the trash.
After all, I had to do better than Calden—significantly better.
Choosing to ignore him, I lowered my head, feigning deep interest in my phone screen.
