Sierra was stunned. She didn’t fall to the ground.
He must have been talking about someone else who was trying to seduce him.
Feeling slightly disappointed that she wasn’t as memorable to Tyrone as she had hoped, Sierre changed the subject to hide the
awkwardness.
“I didn’t expect you to be so handsome and such a great singer,” she drawled.
Tyrone replied with a disinterested tone, “Thanks for the compliment.”
“Do you believe in fate? I couldn’t help but notice that you look like my cousin. It’s funny how I’ve run into you twice today.
“Err, no. Not really.”
Sierra felt embarrassment wash over her. So, she revealed her trump card, thinking it would help the situation.
“You are Tyrone, right?
Do you know my cousin? He’s in Mathias as well.”
Back at the shopping mall, Tyrone had guessed that it was Blayze she was referring to.
Sierra maintained a noticeable accent when she spoke, something she embraced rather than tried to change.
It added to her sense of identity, complementing her expensive attire that set her apart from the ordinary crowd. She relished
feeling refined and standing out.
Despite her accent and expensive clothes, Tyrone appeared unfazed.
What seemed to matter most to him was being mistaken for Blayze.
He disagreed with the notion that he had any semblance to Blayze.
Tyrone lost his patience.
“I’m not interested in you or your cousin.
Can you leave now?”
Hearing that, Sierra was stunned. She bit her lower lip, with a trace of pride and superiority in her eyes.
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