CHAPTER 89

William’s p.o.v

I placed my phone on the kitchen island and walked to the room to pick out a pair of black sneakers and a silk shirt to go with the jeans I was wearing.

“Get dressed, you have ten minutes,” I say, glancing at Bailey who was sprawled on the bed like a wounded octopus with her phone in hand.

She acts so inappropriately.

“What? Where are we going? And w-” She asks but I cut her off slamming the door abruptly. I put on my shirt, buttoned it up, and slid into my sneakers before making my way to the kitchen.

I brought out the wine bottle again, pouring myself a generous glass. I needed more of this if I was going to survive these coming days. I downed the contents at a go, I returned the wine to its place and I picked up my phone from the kitchen island, returning to the living area.

“Where are we going?” Bailey asks, walking out of the room and putting her phone in the small bag she held. I glanced at her outfit, from the sneakers on her feet to the denim buttoned skirt and