Where had he gone to make trouble this time?
Gianna couldn't help the thought as she caught sight of the irregular, jagged bumps on Zane's face.
He had clearly tried to camouflage them with… was that actually makeup?
When she heard Susan and the others erupt into a fresh wave of snickering, she knew she wasn't the only one who had clocked it.
Zane Whitman in concealer? Had the world tilted on its axis while she was asleep? And more importantly, who had even been allowed close enough to plaster it on his face?
Zane, meanwhile, was fighting a losing battle against the embarrassment threatening to turn his face a deep shade of crimson.
Stifling the urge to snap at the jeers coming from his friends, he strolled over to the lone armchair and sat down with a slow poise that bordered on regal. He crossed his legs, attempting to project an air of nonchalance, but that only caused Sandro to howl with renewed laughter.
