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No 2024-11-27 18:50 active 1930 0 2023 Super Air Nautique S25 This boat and more for sale at Kelly's Port (www.KellysPort.com) in Lake of the Ozarks. SHOP_NOW https://www.kellysport.com/New-Inventory-2023-Naut Kelly's Port https://www.facebook.com/KellysPort1977/ 8,746 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Shop Now 0 kellysport.com CAROUSEL This boat and more for sale at Kelly's Port (www.KellysPort.com) in Lake of the Ozarks. https://www.kellysport.com/New-Inventory-2023-Nautique-Boat-Super-Air-Nautique-S25-Kelly-s-Port-16373612?ref=list 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468618580_596129032768358_1632796841294544321_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Q_PL-eEIP-IQ7kNvgGJsUdo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEnUz_6ZcYtzBxRSk1jX6G1&oh=00_AYBzF_17-zzIaOBWWVL8l17Che6wX6QpUuLzCOytY4LUKA&oe=674D7E67 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Kelly's Port 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:39 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I
I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am
I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I
..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face... LEARN_MORE https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& New world publications https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ 3,762 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 wwwedb.com VIDEO https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466006044_1247243396516530_1252041975292502345_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=45Ljiz2u7_8Q7kNvgHAj3Vw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgN7mxsrt16m_YsxbLZmI58&oh=00_AYBZP_EwE8_KMxVeK0OQh-nt_zQCoUtUijhKo6J4hU_5-Q&oe=674D95EA PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 New world publications 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:54 active 1932 0 đŸ”„đŸ”„Click to read the next chapter for free👉 My husband Elijah wanted to do some sweet things with me again, however, he suddenly brought up his ex-girlfriend. This caused my emotions to explode. I hadn’t realized I’d already fallen asleep when I heard the bedroom door open. Something made a loud, clattering noise. I quickly sat up and saw Elijah staggering toward me. I hastily moved backward, giving him a look of disbelief. He reeked of alcohol and was obviously drunk. If he wasn’t, he would have just ignored me and gone straight to bed. “Hey, playing hard to get, aren’t you?” he said in a slurred manner, his bloodshot eyes becoming more intense. Then without warning, he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I didn’t have time to react, though, because he suddenly started unbuttoning my oversized nightshirt. “When did Serena start working at your company?” I asked him coldly. He shrugged, but didn’t stop what he was doing. “Not sure. Probably recruited by HR.” He traveled down and then his tongue followed. Finally, the last button on my sleep pajama surrendered. “Serena is such a talented addition to our team,” he remarked with admiration. As I reminisced about the scene I witnessed at the company, my husband and his ex-girlfriend Serena were closely nestled together, sharing laughter and conversation. But I couldn't muster the courage to confront her and ask her to keep her distance from him. Jealousy and pain gripped my chest. I couldn’t believe he was saying all this while undressing me! I knew then that he still had feelings for her. "You know," he said, oblivious to my disappointment, "she's even outperforming many of the senior colleagues who've been with the company for years." Even as we locked eyes, there was something in his gaze—a kind of infatuation—that he never seemed to exhibit when it came to me. He’s probably picturing me as her! I thought with disgust. I was so disappointed in him, and didn’t want him anywhere near me. I’ve been obedient, helpful, and hardworking
 But no one cares. Not even my own husband. I’m nothing to him. He doesn’t love me and he never learned to. That’s the most painful of all. A sudden surge of clarity and calmness washed over me. “I want to divorce you.” LEARN_MORE https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Indulge in story https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ 847 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 thebvhwysgng.com DCO https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13552&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/456447136_513011344615331_1497297673340256615_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=miUg-MmIjkgQ7kNvgHFdmIF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AnaG2s-m30I6Q51Qq8BfCXl&oh=00_AYAVMYZpdQs0J7-RVpwfVdah9G429nM7cDm3EM377VRqfg&oe=674D7E14 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Indulge in story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 18:51 active 1930 0 Pink Week Deals! Pink week deals! https://shopcarolinehill.com/collections/pink-week-sale LEARN_MORE https://shopcarolinehill.com/collections/pink-week Shop Caroline Hill https://www.facebook.com/shopcarolinehill/ 42,847 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 DCO https://shopcarolinehill.com/collections/pink-week-sale 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467551667_1100538278433422_6587178305591933455_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fBS7V9ZeB1cQ7kNvgEDc_rh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKQxBvF_ONMG0OX6kSC6jyh&oh=00_AYAok-m1BJEjRzFsSR_Vfk34B_fN4_tbKuz16dIeKMCnuA&oe=674D952E PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Shop Caroline Hill 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:57 active 1932 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 Lexi could sense the man was staring at her swollen right cheek. It didn't seem like he would take his eyes off her anytime. "I know I'm so pretty that people can't help but gawk at me." Claude's lips curved up. "You look very familiar." Lexi's eyes remained on the climbing numbers on the elevator's digital display. "That's a tacky way to hit on someone." "I've never needed to hit on anyone." Claude flashed a reticent smile. "I'm only stating the truth. There was a laziness and silkiness to his voice. Lexi looked ahead at the elevator's mirrored walls and took in Claude, who stood to her left. She didn't recall ever interacting with him, much less meeting him. To her surprise, Claude suddenly approached her. His intimidating presence overwhelmed her so much that she took a few steps back. "Can I help you?" she questioned with a stiff voice. Lexi held her breath. They were so close to each other that she could smell the faint pine scent from his body. "Do you really not recognize me?" Claude asked. "I don't." Claude straightened his back and peered down at her. When the elevator door opened on the tenth floor, he stepped aside. Doubt gnawed at her heart. She could have sworn she didn't know the man, but why did he seem to know her? 
 That night, Lexi had a dream. She dreamt of the night from two months ago. The wild night left her all sweaty. Zachary held her waist and tried out several positions with her. It left Lexi limp with barely any energy left. Not to mention, she was so drunk that she was in a daze. When Lexi woke, she massaged her forehead. The dream she had turned out to be a tad frightening. The man she slept with two months ago was Zachary. Yet, for some reason, he got replaced by the man from the elevator in her dream. LEARN_MORE https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=11845&ut Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ 21 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 beokn.com DCO https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=11845&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449727403_366939126055861_4561971539420395674_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=365stjHdTa8Q7kNvgExe8rb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhnkaDtxkzfIpsvIYxt31RJ&oh=00_AYDyeMBCr9iWH3mzwok3WyniTKMIx8C7ePqjVmo7--mnMA&oe=674D9DDA PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:59 active 1932 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However
 "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were
 I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. 
 Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. 
 At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but
" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. 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No 2024-11-27 19:12 active 1931 0 Read next chapter On her wedding anniversary, she dressed up for a date but was drugged and manipulated by her husband's mistress, leading to spend a night with a stranger. To her surprise, he turned out to be her husband's half-brother and business rival! ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the d*ug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a d*ug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. P**gnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bl**d test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j**k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a s*ap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-e Fun Novel https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/ 1,257 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.moboreader.net VIDEO https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1019-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&rawadid=120213213016030604 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465853532_555889550301355_9100426985341572189_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ooUpcHcBM4IQ7kNvgFyIUHN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A3kTY6m_MrRiPqSZiOMWKk3&oh=00_AYBXmURAAprhqp86cVtOn7LRtNICyukKDZgGAWx0tPdonA&oe=674DAAF6 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Fun Novel 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:41 active 1932 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 320 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463462002_1086746086214673_140892699331581138_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pYenWZtZleQQ7kNvgFtpmfk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMMWvBoSe5XmW65H7LbzbOr&oh=00_AYB8EVMpN65khQkazxdWd-qCRuw2FOvcvoh5ILQ_Oj1Qjg&oe=674D9703 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:52 active 1932 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ аĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тД ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы заĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚Đșазал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșа ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, а Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ за ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ за ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО за ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡Đșа. ЧуĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČаĐș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, а?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу за Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČа 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșазал ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё за руĐșу Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčтД ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČал запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČал Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, а Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșазал Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč за ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșаĐș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был за Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ВыпДĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșа. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ заĐčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșа сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČа 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČёл Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșа была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČЎаĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ заĐșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČёл ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșа. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČал ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČал Дё. ГлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčтД ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČа ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось за сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČызĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșазал глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșаĐș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ўа? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” захĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- Lime novel https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ 925 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.litradnovie.com VIDEO https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213381656250790 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465918673_1976237472891048_3058341458246299645_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=t1LI-6pQQr4Q7kNvgFQTtUD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A-1TqwmCz8KN659XBd5i-uD&oh=00_AYD1SwxBxRAQPpA_UWYi3DYnclBz4MDh71Fo4QX5GxY5Nw&oe=674D9C8A PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Lime novel 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 18:50 active 1930 0 Virtual Holiday Event! Our Virtual Holiday Event is officially HERE! In this special holiday-themed LIVE event, we are featuring HOT items at AMAZING prices you won’t want to miss! *Special note* ~ due to these items being heavily discounted, all holiday door buster items will be *FINAL SALE*! :) Thank you SO much for shopping with us and for all of your love and support! <3 Haven't registered with us?! Follow these few simple steps: Comment "Register" in our Facebook comments or visit the link: https://mainstreamboutiquesavage.com For Facebook users, once you are registered with us - to order, comment "sold, item #, size, & color (if applicable)" Click below for the link to our web-store! https://mainstreamboutiquesavage.com You can also watch our lives and shop right from our free shopping app! To find us in the app store, search "Mainstream Boutique of Savage" We ship for a flat fee of $7.95 and orders over $125 ship for free! MESSAGE_PAGE Mainstream Boutique Savage https://www.facebook.com/MainstreamBoutiqueSavageMn/ 49,065 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Send message 0 VIDEO 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468365399_583689497380471_4585940480989936950_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ndc4wX5ZwZwQ7kNvgGs08pN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ay34aL2_xzfXTVpBZIzfo9M&oh=00_AYDBDfw-uh-PTDErwDh_vLu3O_DpkLgSs1XnMNF3IPFFHQ&oe=674D850C PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Mainstream Boutique Savage 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-27 18:50 active 1930 0 1M+ viewers are watching 🔞WARNING: The hottest drama of the season is here! đŸ€©Influencers are obsessed! What's got them hooked? 😈Exclusive 4K episodes only on Short Max. 😣Just 5 seconds to download and binge-watch LEARN_MORE https://xsrrq.i299sdgktl.com/fb02.html?shorttv_adi ShortMax US https://www.facebook.com/61566899379033/ 684 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 xsrrq.i299sdgktl.com VIDEO ShortMax - 10M+ downloads https://xsrrq.i299sdgktl.com/fb02.html?shorttv_adid=37741&language=en&timestamp=1730716436731&utm_source=facebook&campaign_id=%7B%7Bcampaign.id%7D%7D&campaign_name=%7B%7Bcampaign.name%7D%7D&adset_id=%7B%7Badset.id%7D%7D&ad_id=%7B%7Bad.id%7D%7D&ad_name=%7B%7Bad.name%7D%7D&fbclid=IwY2xjawGZe2tleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHZhRiTkAgj3GDJweHigk4QzQy1MuoF7WxvzEAO-KKihP7FW1PaJRpBGiYQ_aem_hWjiXeOqBL-nTqayJsi9Ww 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468599195_890902499846714_4186721801410289056_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=E8gNxhCQRD4Q7kNvgEaMxiL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhkzWTn3-K9QQUYelWhPhhO&oh=00_AYB3E4pA6CxIkXCRp4yd4TSZDsTpmn_B0EDdbPSIPv0Z1w&oe=674D9D50 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 ShortMax US 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:39 active 1932 0 Effortless Manicures Anytime, Anywhere! 💅 Achieve salon-quality manicures with ease using Clip & Clickℱ! No more struggling with traditional nail clippers - let the powerful motor and innovative design do the work for you. 👉 Click Shop Now And Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight! SHOP_NOW https://norvure.com/products/clip-click%E2%84%A2-t HappyMe's https://www.facebook.com/100094368992659/ 4,177 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Shop now 0 norvure.com IMAGE 40% Off Until Midnight https://norvure.com/products/clip-click%E2%84%A2-the-effortless-electric-nail-trimmer 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/440584011_3130662820400919_2083825702671683249_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ya5tLta-uDEQ7kNvgGme9_m&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A1_T-0LSJZ7YQeLPL9Qxz2A&oh=00_AYBDdBT4CSz0COBcxkWm5OH3weHjtwqCgHYufNecOMTgVw&oe=674D8B92 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 HappyMe's 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:44 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 320 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461342866_403665495877678_8039372569247806790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QeHmd5kdoEcQ7kNvgGsoh0q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZO84i2ldjwS4p8ttgsGnSJ&oh=00_AYCNBAZWFkDXQcphrs7QvTNhdUEB6p8TLElmfciEQ1f5wQ&oe=674D8935 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-27 18:51 active 1930 0 Hagedorn 5290 hydra push spreader Hagedorn 5290 hydra push spreader - $45,800.00 Hagedorn 5290 @450bushel New manure/litter spreader, with 425 truck tires Flow control and sequence valve cash deal promotion on 1 unit 45,800.00 brand new!!!! Hydra push/no aprons with vertical beaters. Call or text five zero seven-three nine zero-twenty four sixteen 507 390 2416 or PM would consider trades financing available call for mfg blow out PRICING!!!! Facebook Marketplace CONTACT_US https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/991309546364 Kelly Katzung https://www.facebook.com/Kelly-Katzung-112665310483774/ 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Contact us 0 IMAGE https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/991309546364895/ 1969-12-31 18:00 REGULAR_PAGE 1 0 0 Kelly Katzung 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:45 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing severe postpartum bleeding. Please, come and see her for the last time." The doctor anxiously pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone. But Juan Nichols's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from the eyes of the woman lying on the bed. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? ' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating Debra's vital signs had disappeared. In Debra's lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she died alone and tragically. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Meanwhile, Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise and praise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." LEARN_MORE https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 320 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 thebvhwysgng.com DCO https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463426648_540373671927723_8627590461251621442_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FDl7L1_qH4oQ7kNvgFhflls&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHsWsNnJTuJhI2qvQ8J-O0X&oh=00_AYCirMDZase_woBEHiM6hvfaxMTsWQPYibXSv8fq6B__PQ&oe=674D857B PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:57 active 1932 0 Read more FREE chapters👉 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However
 "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were
 I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. 
 Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. 
 At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but
" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. 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No 2024-11-27 19:57 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 320 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462356541_904103084962022_2257249281450638016_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IbL5xWXDaB0Q7kNvgG5boUf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A9TXsdXrGBOwICn-AwBfthn&oh=00_AYCXMD43IQqRh5gwiscwrxfMFTPCajhrCoaJXKsXigkxTw&oe=674DB052 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:39 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... " LEARN_MORE https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&u Galaxy in the Story https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ 1,562 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 befant.com DCO https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oiTrYEJ4hDwQ7kNvgEVZsCT&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AgN7mxsrt16m_YsxbLZmI58&oh=00_AYBn8B0LYy-Szli-njNIaUFZPmYvdsQRWgSHLKfoARfdrA&oe=674D81AD PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Galaxy in the Story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-27 19:59 active 1932 0 đŸ”„đŸ”„Click to read the next chapter for free👉 Chapter 1 Scented candles, champagne, and rose petals
 check! Haley strolled across the bedroom. A crimson silk gown hugged her curves, flowing down her ankles, with a daring slit that revealed a glimpse of her slender leg. In the background, a soft melody played, lulling her to give in to the exhaustion from spending the whole day getting ready. For twenty-nine days, she'd been anticipating and preparing for tonight. Liam rarely came home. They'd been married for three years, but their relationship was nothing more than a distant coexistence. Her husband was always conveniently busy with work, hardly having time for her. The only proof of their relationship was the intimacy they shared once a month. Tonight marked their third anniversary. As one of the few nights Liam would get intimate with her, everything must be perfect. If only he'd come home now. The business trip should be over. His assistant told her Liam's plane landed an hour ago. Did an emergency come up at his company and he needed to take care of it? Bored, she picked up her phone, checking into her tiktok to kil-l time. Just then, a piece of news popped up, featuring NK Enterprise, her husband's company. Excited, Haley tapped into the news; "William Nash, Famous CEO of NK Enterprise, Checks Into Hotel With his Mystery Girlfriend, Relationship Revealed" William? Her Liam? Haley stood up, her eyes glued to her phone's screen, shock and disbelief taking over. Angry as well when she saw the image of her husband walking into the famous Eden Suites Hotel, his arm snaked around a woman's waist. And when the woman's face was revealed, so many thoughts flooded Haley's mind at once. Disbelief, fear, and uncertainty. Leah! The girl who looked a lot like Lisa, Liam's Ex. Leah was a mere receptionist at NK Enterprise until one day, Liam noticed the similarities she shared with his Ex. Not a week went by before he promoted her to the secretary position. Rumors were flying around at that time that William Nash had a soft spot for his secretary, Rumors Haley found hard to believe. Liam might be cold and unromantic with her, but he wasn't the kind of person she believed would have an affair, talk more with his secretary. But what was this news about? Liam must have gone to the hotel with his secretary for some business dealings, right? Still, what was with holding Leah's waist? Sinking in confusion was pointless. Haley dialed his number. He didn't answer the phone, heightening her anxiety. On her third trial, he finally picked up. “What's up?” His deep voice, heavy with tiredness, murmured through the phone. Haley inhaled deeply, controlling her emotions. “Liam, where are you? Today's our third anniversary, remember?” “So?” From his careless tone, Haley couldn't help but imagine him rolling his eyes. “Not coming home. Sleep by yourself.” Knowing what she wanted, he still rejected her brutally, his voice holding no remorse, a gut-wrenching punch to her pride. Just then, a female voice, soft and seductive, came on the phone. “Willy, I'm thirsty.” Willy? Even Haley wasn't allowed to call him that. He truly was with a woman! At this hour, her husband was with a freaking woman! The phone beeped. He hung up the call. Dazed, Haley's gaze fell on the decorations; her hard work. She sank onto the bed, her thoughts spinning and that voice echoing. Leah. That was Leah's voice. What was happening? Did she misread Liam's lack of displaying affection for her as a part of his cold personality? Sleep departed Haley's eyes, and her throat was suddenly dry. She longed for anything to distract her from the confusing and heartbreaking thoughts, so she gulped down the champagne, wishing it'd wash her sadness away. Why did he love to hurt her feelings? During the times he never returned home, was he really with his secretary as the rumors had it? Haley stirred in the middle of the night, drowsy and starkly aware of the strong hands fondling with her gown. She found Liam hovering over her, trying to undress her. Haley blinked. Urgh! Why was she dreaming about this man who only knew to break her heart? Yet, as his fingers grazed her body, goosebumps spread across her skin, and she winced. “Hey, wait
” Haley stopped him, her voice hoarse from crying, still wanting to confirm if she was dreaming. Liam smirked. “You called me back. Isn't it for this?” Haley blushed. He came back. Maybe she'd misunderstood again. “I've got you our anniversary present. Wanna see it?” She asked. “Boring.” He trailed kisses down her neck, pulling her nightgown down. “Uhm, Liam
” Irritation flashed in his eyes when she interrupted again. Haley gulped, summoning courage, grateful for the whole bottle of champagne she'd emptied in her stomach. “C- Can
 Can you not wear it tonight?” Liam halted. His dark eyes bore a hole through her heart, his expression frosting over. The atmosphere became so stale and suffocating, and her breathing hitched when he pushed her away. “You're always okay with me wearing protection.” His dark voice made her shudder. “Why not now?” Haley cowered to the bed's headboard, flushed and embarrassed. She looked down. “It's your Grandma. She laments every day about us not having a baby.” “Grandma, huh?” He scoffed, pinning her with a glare. “More like you're desperate to have a child to keep the title of Mrs. Nash in this family!” His mouth spat venom. Haley held back her tears and clenched her fists, the bitterness in his words spreading from her heart and numbing her whole. Chapter 2 She loved him and wanted to have his baby. Was it a crime to ask? A marriage was supposed to be a union of mutual consent where the couple lived harmoniously. But she didn't even have a right to voice out her heart desires. His words fell over her like chilled water, dousing the wine's effect, and dampening her hope. Haley sobered up immediately, grief clutching her heart. “Liam, do you think I married you just for money?” Haley didn't see those words coming from him. Through her actions, her genuine love was obvious. While he spent most nights outside, she maintained a perfect home for him to return to. She neither complained nor demanded his affection, just giving and never taking. Why couldn't he see it? The suspicion in his eyes as he stared at her hurt more than daggers piercing her heart. If only she could read his thoughts- his mind. “What else do you expect me to think!” Liam spat out, unaware of the poisonous effect of his words on her heart. Or maybe he was aware. “Haley Nash, don't overstep your limits. I'll never have children with you. Don't forget how you plotted to marry me in the first place!” His words weren't only insulting, but also heartbreaking, reducing her to a desperate woman eager for his affection. Where did she go wrong? She gave him her heart, and he didn't have any trouble with crushing it at every opportunity he got. “You're still not over Lisa, are you?” Haley shouldn't have asked the now obvious truth. Back then, Lisa had been the only obstacle to her happiness; the man she loved. While she'd desperately longed for him, he never spared her a glance. His eyes were only for Lisa. However, didn't Leah share a great resemblance with Lisa, his Ex? Instead of acknowledging Haley's feelings, he'd transferred all the love he had for his Ex to Leah. To him, Leah was a mirror, reflecting his first love, Lisa. Liam didn't answer her question, his dark eyes narrowing into slits, the emotions in his eyes unreadable. He left the room, slamming the door. Desperation fueling her grief, Haley scurried off the bed and went after him. Wiping her tears furiously, she hurried to catch up with him. “Let’s get a divorce,” Haley blurted out. Liam halted in his steps. His back facing her, his body went rigid. A moment of silence went by, filled with tension. Haley watched him with bated breath, her heartbeat picking up. “Fine.” He moved. Without a glance in her direction, the man walked away. Fine. Just fine? Haley chuckled, her laughter mixed with tears. For three years, she'd overworked herself beyond measure only to please the man she loved. She was the perfect wife, the best daughter-in-law. Whenever he came back home sick, she stayed up all night nursing him. While she always hid her illness from him so as to not bother him. She might look pale and fragile, but he never cast her a glance talk more of asking how she was feeling. Despite that, Haley never complained. She only wanted to be perfect for him, to melt his cold heart someday. Yet, her divorce proposal was only received with a single word, almost insignificant. 'Fine.' It showed he never cared, and would never. If only she'd realized that earlier. On the first day she saw him in college, he stole her heart. That was the most bizarre thing that had ever happened to her. At that time, he was with Lisa. She dared not be the third wheel. Haley had been bold enough to confess her feelings when Lisa left and dumped him. She'd offered him comfort, striving to mend his heart. She worked hard to get his attention, getting into his family's good books, and sacrificing her own family’s happiness. Her hard work paid off as Liam eventually noticed her. Thinking he'd forgotten Lisa, Haley married him happily. But the nightmare began on their wedding night. He set rules for her; Their intimacy would only happen once a month. She wasn't allowed to call him with any endearing name. She wasn't allowed to cook his food or touch his things. She wasn't allowed to ask more than he gave her. She was never allowed to make their relationship public. Thinking he only needed time to adjust to her, she'd had no objections. Tears blurred Haley's vision. She leaned by the wall, blinking at her phone's screen that suddenly lit up. A message notification appeared. Wondering who was messaging her this late, she clicked on the message. [I'm pre-gnant. It's time for me to become the new Mrs. Nash.] A message from his secretary. To put it accurately, his mistress, Leah. Haley gripped the phone, her body trembling. Accompanying the message was a screenshot of a pregnan-cy test result. It turned out, Liam didn't hate babies after all. He just didn't want to have one with her! How disappointing that she'd wasted her time thinking he only disliked having babies. What's the point in sticking with a man who wouldn't value her? Haley wiped her tears. She'd been having second thoughts whenever the decision came to her mind to just leave the man, because a part of her mind always held hope for a better future for them. But right now, the future seemed ridiculous, almost laughable. Even Leah whom he only hired three months ago was now pragnant with his child. The more Haley clung onto this man, the more he'd enjoy breaking her, reveling in her misery. That night, Haley retrieved the document she'd hidden in a dark corner of the closet. Staring at it, her heart throbbed tremendously, a part of her dying in that moment, A pain brought by watching her years of hard work crumbling right before her. She took in a deep breath, sniffing back the tears she now hated more than anything, Tears that reminded her of how weak and helpless she'd reduced herself to all in the name of begging for love. Never again. Chapter 3 The Next Morning. As Liam ate breakfast in the dining room, the atmosphere was stale and somehow still as if something was amiss. He glanced at the empty chair across from him now and then, his thoughts wiring back to last night. Where was that crazy woman? Was she still inside the bedroom shedding crocodile tears? Spending the whole night in the study room was enough to teach her a lesson. At least, she'd lost the chance of him touching her this month. She would never bring up that ridiculous topic again. Yet, halfway through eating, Liam's indifference turned into a small frown that formed on his face, his eyes darting upstairs. Did she think that starving herself would make him give in and grant her wish? How silly. Liam summoned the maid. “Why isn't Mrs. Nash coming down? Go and get her.” But the maid lingered, her fearful gaze avoiding his eyes. With a hesitant look on her face, she extended a gift box to him. “Actually
 M-Mr, Nash. Mrs. Nash left the house an hour ago. She left this box for you.” Liam's frown deepened. What was that woman up to? He took the box impatiently, and his eyes caught the tag on it. “3rd Anniversary Gift” “How childish.” The corner of his li-ps twitched mockingly, a subtle smile forming. Liam tore the wraps around the box, wondering if this was the present she insisted on giving him last night. Once he revealed the content of the box, however, he narrowed his eyes at the white document with the word “Divorce Agreement!” boldly written at the top. Liam smashed his fist on the table and shot to his feet. He snat-ched the papers. Divorce! Was she serious last night? His nerves rippling with rage, he flipped through the papers, his eyes widening more seeing her signatures on each section. [Reason for Divorce: Disharmony in se-x!] His anger hit the ceiling when he saw that. The words sounded more like he didn't satisfy her enough in bed. How dare she mock him in such a demeaning manner? She was becoming bold, huh? Dramatic! Liam grabbed his phone, clutching it. His breathing ragged, he dialed her number. “Where the hel are you!!!” “Just sign the divorce, William Nash.” Her calm voice was devoid of the desperation from last night. “Then you're fr-ee to have kids with any woman you want.” She hung up instantly, leaving him in a daze. For several minutes, Liam stood in the same spot, staring at the papers, not believing his eyes. Was she really serious? Then a thought came to his mind and he snickered. After trying all possible means, she resorted to this silly trick to get his attention. That crazy woman never ran out of ideas. Well, an hour was enough for her to return to her senses. She'd soon beg him and claim it was a joke. With that in mind, Liam got ready and left for his company. In the afternoon, he found himself thinking about her tantrum, unable to finish any work. So he took his phone and called the house's telephone, knowing she'd answer it. But instead of Haley, the maid answered the phone. “Mr. Nash, is there something you need?” “Where's Haley?” Liam gritted out. “Uhm, Mr. Nash
 Mrs. Nash hasn't come back,” the maid answered with a sigh. Liam cut the call brutally! Haley! What was she still doing outside? Did she go to his Grandmother to complain about him? When evening approached, Liam dialed the house's telephone again, ready to lash at her. Yet, it was the maid who answered the phone again. “Mr. Nash, Mrs. Nash didn't return.” She sounded worried. “She has never left the house for this long.” Liam cut the call. He tugged at his necktie and began pacing in his office, his emotion a mix of anger and disbelief. Haley was going too far. She'd better end this prank before he extended her punishment. While he was walking back and forth, his assistant, Joye, came in with some documents. “Mr. Nash, these are from the HR-” “Check the money on Haley's card. Is there any change from yesterday?” Liam interrupted him, his voice sounding desperate. Danmit! Was he desperate? He just wanted to find more reasons to punish that woman in case she spent his money recklessly. “Right away, Mr. Nash!” Joye returned later, the look of horror on his face making Liam wonder if someone died on his way back. “Mr. Nash- Mr. Nash, you won't believe this!” Joye barged into the office. Liam was impatient. “What is it!? And where's the task I gave you?” Joye opened his mouth wide, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. “It turns out Mrs. Nash has never touched a single penny on her card! Isn't that strange?” That was impossible. It was hard to believe. If Haley had never spent a single penny on his card, where did she get all the money she used to bu-y meaningless gifts for him? Those expensive wristwatches, the cufflinks made of gold, the expensive neckties and designer shoes
 and also the expensive perfumes she'd stacked inside his closet, not to mention the limited edition sports car she got him as a birthday gift two months ago! Weren't they all bought with his money? Did she swindle them from his Grandmother? After all, she'd always pretended to be nice to his clueless Grandmother in or-der to get close to him. “Erm, Mr. Nash
” Joye said, snapping him from his thoughts. His assistant scratched his head nervously, giving him a worried look. “You look pale and you're sweating
 is everything alright?” Liam threw him a glare. “It's nothing.” “Uhm, but, Mr. Nash, if you feel sick, I can call the Madam as always,” Joye suggested. “By the way, isn't she an amazing woman? All women out there would lavish your money, but she-” “Go away.” Liam chased the noisy guy out. For the first time, he was a bit flustered. But as he sat on his chair, he whispered to himself, “Well, she's a nobody without me. She'll soon run back and apologize.” Chapter 4 At IvoryRains Apartment Building, located downtown. Haley settled in her new apartment, the small and cozy interior a stark contrast to the luxury and glam of Liam's Villa. Yet, in this mini apartment, she felt somehow at peace with herself. Her mind, once clouded with thoughts of Liam alone, was now clearing up. Every minute of her life had been filled with thinking about him, brainstorming different ways to make the man happy. Even though she loved Liam, it was worthless to live in a marriage with three people in it. Haley could stomach anything the man threw at her, but not a betrayal as big as having an affair and impregnating another woman. Lost in her thoughts, the sound of her phone's ringtone snapped her back to the present. Haley picked up the phone from the small table stand, staring at the contact display name. She'd developed this habit of shuddering in fear whenever her mother-in-law called, and now she found herself repeating the same thing. ‘Habits die hard, don't they?’ Bracing up herself, Haley pressed the answer button, knowing too well not to put the phone any way close to her ears, lest she risked losing her eardrums. “What's keeping you from coming, you stup-id insignificant girl!” Vera Nash seemed to be in a very bad mood, as her voice blared like a trumpet through the phone. “Why don't you come and help me clean today! Did you forget it's Monday!?” Haley pursed her li-ps. Indeed, she used to go to Liam's mother's place every Monday to do house chores for her every week, under the woman's stern command. Haley replied, “I won't go there today.” “Eh? Not coming!?” Vera shouted, disbelief ebbing her tone. “Do you know who's speaking, Haley? How dare you talk to me like that when you're a barren woman? You should be happy I even let you stay with my son!” And so began her train of insults. Vera never missed any opportunity to tell Haley how useless she was without a child in the Nash family. Haley digested the insult, always keeping a perfect attitude in 0rder not to anger her mother-in-law. But right now, she felt abu.sed, the woman's insult angering her so much that her body was shaking. “Vera Nash, soon there will be someone to help your son have a baby.” Haley cut the call, something she'd never done before. But it felt so satisfying to hang up on the spiteful woman. She couldn't live like this anymore. Years of hard work didn't get her recognized by Liam's parents. Even if Haley hanged herself someday in the name of her love for the man, she doubted if Liam and his parents would even bat an eye. Why should she live her life for others when she could be herself? With that in mind, Haley unpacked her belongings. She spent half of the day cleaning the apartment, decorating it to her liking, and hanging her clothes on the rack. As the evening approached, Haley left the apartment building, heading to DG Jewelry Corp., her favorite jewelry company. They had recently opened up vacancies for physical applicants. With her portfolio in handy, Haley spent more than an hour in the HR Department, undergoing the initial interviews and some physical tests. “Although we're open for applications, this company is top-notch among Its competitors. Don't think you can get in so easily, Young Lady,” Seemingly amazed by Haley's confidence, the manager warned. Haley only smiled, her rapt attention fixed on the pieces of gemstones scattered on the desk in front of her. Carefully, she picked each one with a holder, crafting an intricate design on the plain golden necklace. It was only a demo that lasted for thirty minutes, yet, the outcome had all the employees gathering around, their widened eyes gleaming with awe and astonishment. “Oh my Gosh! I can't breathe.” “It's perfect! How did she even do that in such a short time?” “She must have years of experience to be able to pull it off so effortlessly without a single mistake.” “Who's she? Can we see her portfolio?” However, the manager in whose hands was her portfolio looked a bit pale, his hands shaking. His voice cracked as he spoke, his gaze darting from Haley to her portfolio. “So it's you
” Haley raised an inquisitive brow, smiling. “I beg your pardon.” “Scratch that! You've been approved, Young Lady. Go ahead and meet the CEO while I forward him your documents!” The Manager's action surprised other employees. Haley wasn't a bit astonished but relieved that the man was quick-witted enough to grasp the situation and hid her secret. The first floor was the fine jewelry customization area and the fifth floor was the designer's office. She lingered by to admire the pieces of jewelry each encased inside a glass stand. Wowed by the glittering objects and inspired by many designs, she lost track of time admiring the jewelry. Some of the jewelry looked very familiar, and for the first time, Haley was happy, seeing the jewelry on display. For a few minutes, she forgot the chaos and the heartache caused by Liam's betrayal. Knowing it was near closing time, Haley proceeded to the fifth floor. She was about to take the elevator when she heard the most annoying voice. "Haley, what are you doing here? It's such bad luck." Chapter 5 Turning around, Haley came face to face with Leah. Her good mood plummeted instantly, replaced by irritation and disgust when Leah all but flashed her a sweet smile, rubbing her flat tummy. “Do I need to tell you where I'm going?” Haley replied. “You're just a mistress.” Leah's eyes dimmed, and her smile faded into a deep scowl. “I might be a mistress now, but not anytime soon.” Her tone filled with arrogance, she eyed Haley from head to toe. “As you can see, I'm here to pick out mine and Will's wedding rings.” “Ow?” Haley put on a surprised look, feigning happiness. “Finally, someone to pack off my garbage. Congrats, and please talk to Liam and let him sign the divorce papers soon. Or you will still be the mistress.” Her tone light and full of mockery, Haley was surprised at her own calmness as she stood in front of the woman who literally seduced her husband. Forget it. Liam was no better. Leah's expression switched from white to green, her fingernails digging into her palms. She breathed heavily. “I know you're jealous because you can never give Willy even a single child. Doesn't he hate you?” Leah went on caressing that spot in her ab-domen, giving Haley a taunting look. “Forget it, I won’t waste my time with you, after all, I'm pragnant now, it's not good for the baby to be angry.” Disgusted, Haley felt like vomiting. Just how morally twisted Leah was to flaunt an affair in public? They'd only met a few times in the past. Haley once visited Liam's office to deliver his launch to pave the way for their closeness. While the man chased her out, Leah was there and had a triumphant smile on her face. Haley disregarded it. To not irritate Liam further, she avoided getting into a fight with any of his employees. But one day, Liam brought her home for dinner with the excuse that they were just back from a business gala. It had been evident in Leah's eyes that she wanted to covet her husband but Haley didn't mind because she trusted Liam. Very funny! The two deserved each other. Deeming standing there a waste of her time, she turned to walk into the elevator when Leah screamed at her. “Stop right there!” Leah trotted forward on her high heels, blocking Haley's path. “Did you bu-y jewelry here using Will's card, poor bit-ch? You're such a greedy woman, you're getting divorced and you still spend his money.” Haley pushed her out of the way. “Tsk, a cheating man deserves a dumb woman. Who said I came here to bu-y jewelry? I came here for an interview, duh!” Waving her portfolio at her, Haley snickered. She didn't waste time to watch the dumbfounded look on Leah's face, and she walked into the elevator which took her to the fifth floor. There
 A stream of other applicants was waiting for the final round of interviews. Haley found an empty spot and sat on one of the waiting chairs. She glanced at her wristwatch nervously, tapping her feet on the floor. With this many applicants waiting in line, it would take a miracle for her to get the final interview. “Gosh! I'm so nervous!” A female sitting beside her shuddered. “I heard the chairman of the design department is so strict!” Another female whispered. “He's not only the chairman, but also the CEO of the DG Group,” said the guy sitting by her right. “Awwwn, Andrew Woods. I heard he is handsome and charismatic. Lavishes money on his women mercilessly!” Said the girl sitting close to Haley. “I've pulled many stunts to get to this final interview! I have to get this job!” She added with resolve which made Haley chuckle a bit. “You're quite ambitious, Amby. Rumor has it that he's married. Can you afford that?” “So what? As long as he's willing-” Haley shook her head. It turned out not all applicants were here for the job. Her gesture caught the girl's attention. She eyed Haley, a look of displeasure evident in her eyes. “You're not also here to covet Andrew Woods, are you?” “Believe me, I'll pass.” Haley chuckled. “Is she crazy?” “I bet Andrew Woods will glance at her twice because she's pretty. Isn't he only into pretty women?” “I think she's just arrogant. Let's see if she even gets the job.” The females whispered among themselves, making Haley the center of attention. The guy sitting by her right sighed. “It's hard to believe that you're not interested in the god of money, Andrew Woods.” He lowered his voice. “You just earned my respect, Young Lady.” “You never know what's inside someone's mind,” said the girl called Amby. “Don't believe her so easily, she might have a trick up her sleeves just like we all do.” “Another thought. She's giving up early because she knows she'll never stand a chance!” The second female rolled her eyes. “Yeah. From the looks of it, she comes from a poor background.” Laughed the third female. Their words fell on deaf ears because, at that moment, the secretary came out and called Haley's name. “Mr. Woods requests to see a lady called Haley. Is she here?” Haley raised her hand and stood up. “Please follow me, Young Lady.” The secretary smiled warmly, leading the way. As Haley followed her into the office, the whispers behind her increased, their voices filled with disbelief and suspicion. Haley stepped into the office. Sitting across the wide mahogany desk was the strong man. The air around the office seemed to thicken, his intimidating presence capable of snatching anyone's breath away. Not Haley's breath, though. Her heartbeat was intact. The man didn't didn't look up, his eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him, concealing his face. Haley could only imagine, her heart sinking in gloom as she fiddled with her fingers, a slight guilt tugging at her heart. “Please introduce yourself,” he murmured deeply, his tone lacking patience. Sighing, Haley cleared her throat, her voice crisp and nervous. “I'm Haley, here to interview for the designer position.” Instantly, the man lifted his head as if compelled by a rapid force, and Haley saw his face. Chapter 6 The man's expression was masked by surprise for a few seconds, then he laughed. “What took you so long to visit my company?” Haley loosened up. Her li-ps pulled into a happy smile and she ran over and hugged him. “I'm finally here, Brother. How's life treating you?” “Fantastic!” He stood up and lifted her in the air, his laughter resounding in the office walls. “It was boring all day long before you appeared. What a huge surprise!” Seeing the happiness in her brother's eyes as he welcomed her warmly, Haley's guilt expanded. She pursed her li-ps and sighed as he put her down. “Why the gloomy look? Lemme guess, you miss your husband already just after arriving here.” Her brother pinched her cheek, taunting her. Then his brows pulled together in a displeased frown. “You've lost a lot of flesh. What's with the skinny look? Are you on a diet?” Haley shook her head. It was true that she'd lost a tremendous amount of weight in the past few years. Ever since she married Liam, Haley couldn't help but notice that. The years of house chores had greatly worn her out. “Big Bro
” she tugged at his jacket sleeve, acting spoiled. “The truth is
 I'm divorcing Liam-” “What!?” Her brother didn't let her finish speaking. Looking flabbergasted, Andrew Woods sank into his chair. “You're pulling my legs. That is the most ridiculous joke ever! Don't you love that guy like your whole life depends on it?” It hurt to be reminded of how silly she'd been. “You even went against us, your family, to marry him, remember?” He reminded her. “So stop cooking up lies. As your Big Bro, I won't punish you for running off to marry him in secret.” Blinking her eyes, Haley fought to hold back her tears. She sat beside him on the chair's armrest and narrated everything to him. “So you see, it's not worth living in a loveless marriage
” Haley was afraid she would run mad someday because of that heartless man. She was even happy she survived the torture of those three years. After hearing her story, her brother sighed. “Three years ago, you left us to marry William. I thought you could live happily with him. I didn't think he'd dare bully you.” Haley had been so blinded by love that she refused to listen to any word her family said. She ended up getting disowned by her own parents. “How about forgetting that as-shole and coming home with me today? Mom and Dad miss you,” her brother suggested. Haley would jump at the opportunity, but
 "I'll definitely go back, but not now. As soon as Liam signs the divorce papers, I'll move back home.” She couldn't meet her parents at the moment. What was she gonna tell them? How was she gonna apologize? Would they be able to forgive her? Her Brother was kind and understanding enough, but sometimes Haley couldn't understand her parents who had a bad temper. Crossing them was one of her biggest mistakes. "In the meantime, how about taking me in as a designer in this company?" Haley asked. "I'm using my first name anyway, people won't know you're my brother." Andrew's eyes shone with happiness. “You want to work here? As long as you are willing, the whole company can be given to you." “Haha! That's too much to ask, Bro.” Haley laughed. “Look at you being picky.” He ruffled up her hair. “If it's the DG Group you want, I'll hand it all over. You're my only Sis anyway.” But Haley denied. “I just want to work as a designer.” Disappointed, Andrew nodded. "I don’t understand. Why don't you let me announce you to a higher position in the company?" That would be too much. Knowing her brother well, he'd insist on giving her the best. So Haley changed the topic. "Actually, I've been working with this company for a long time." Her brother looked pale immediately. “Wait, what do you mean?” “Do you like last month's newest necklace "Treasure"?” Haley asked. Her brother was speechless. ”So you are “Crystal”? The most mysterious jewelry designer?” Haley smiled and nodded. Andrew looked thoughtful. "I wondered why Crystal is willing to work with our company, it's you!!!” Haley flushed in embarrassment. "I just want to start as a new designer in this company, so I don't need to let anyone else know who I am.” “Why though?” The frown returned to Andrew's face. “You're an exceptional designer! Everyone's dying to meet “Crystal” and I can't wait to boast about you!” The more he spoke, the more embarrassed Haley felt. “Come on, Bro
 let's keep this our little secret.” She added, “I'm confident that I can prove myself, and I don't want to attract Liam's attention.” Under the alias “Crystal” Haley had designed countless jewelry and sold them out at huge prices. She wanted to feel confident about her love for Liam, so she worked hard to afford the gifts a powerful man like him would appreciate. But instead of appreciating those gifts, Liam left them to rot. The only sensible thing he'd ever done was hand over the sports car she'd bought as his birthday gift to charity. “You've suffered all these years
” Andrew patted her hair gently. “I'll help you get revenge and teach that heartless man a lesson.” Haley shook her head and whispered, "No need, it's not worth wasting energy on unimportant people.” “Have you really let go?” Andrew asked worriedly. Haley nodded. “The future is bright. I'll never look back.” “You've matured a lot.” Her brother stared at her proudly. “Since you've said so, I'll let him off. Just promise me you'll always be happy.” Haley hugged him again. “I promise.” Three years of hardship was enough for her to mature. She would never be stu-pid again. Haley's phone rang, disrupting the silence. Seeing Liam's name blinking on the screen, her eyes dimmed. “Have you made enough of a scene? Now come back home!” The first words he said when she answered the phone. Haley almost laughed out loud, but his words weren't funny. For three years, she'd gotten used to his authoritative voice always 0rdering her around, but now it sounded foreign in her ears. “William Nash, I told you to just sign the divorce papers. Leave me alone,” she replied, her low voice calm. Haley had been so used to him yelling at her but not anymore. LEARN_MORE https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&u Indulge in story https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ 847 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 redtgb.com DCO https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449303964_1384479978899659_7912739088474495481_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jFfFR4EBuDQQ7kNvgFMfYcE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AOiwW-Ti-eFEKHKfUlz0E5T&oh=00_AYAj2pEUXf-RXvCKkXnE5TKL7gAUV85wIONmno5qq7V5gA&oe=674DAB9C PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Indulge in story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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