رسوایی کثیف

The world thinks I’m a call girl. Now I have no choice but to be his fake fiancée. I’m not going to law school to become some rich man’s arm candy. Hell no. I intend to be a high-powered lawyer or nothing. That all goes to hell when I’m photographed with the president’s playboy brother. How can I get a job at a respectable firm if everyone thinks he pays me for a good time? Now that the president is involved, it’s clear: I’m trapped being Graham Blackpool’s fake fiancée. The ring on my finger is all politics. But it’s starting to feel so, so real.