I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

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Chapter 145

"Happy birthday," he said again.

He placed it on the worktable.

The cake inside was tiny.

Four inches, maybe.

Enough for two.

The icing was smooth and white, with a single purple flower piped dead center.

No glitter, no sprinkles.

Just that flower, neat, precise, a shade darker than amethyst.

Primro...