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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "You bloomed beautifully, Kamilla. You are a delicious prize that I could easily seize," he rasps as he grips her waist. An action she hadn't missed its implication. But she did nothing but enjoy the delicious torture it caused her body and mind. "However, a forbidden one" he heaved a sigh while gritting his teeth. For a long time, their gazes locked as he tried to control his raging emotions. She could clearly see him struggling with it. "Your father is more than just an employee for me. He is a friend." after he was calmer, he spoke again. "You grew up a little, but you are still tiny," he shrugged. "I am turning twenty-three soon." "I know. But you're still too young" he muttered while he bore her with his dark gaze. The kind of gaze that makes her body tingle. "Too young for your kind of game?" She astounds herself with her boldness. "What do you know about my game?" It was a perilous challenge and a dire warning she should heed. However, she chose not to. She met his piercing eyes with her head held high, despite the thundering heartbeat. "The kind of game that involves this hard monster poking my stomach, Mr. Petrov. I may be tiny in your eyes, but I am not ignorant of a man's needs. "Nor am I innocent," she responded without hesitation. If she is aiming to provoke him, the way his eyes narrowed and his breath became heavy indicates that she is succeeding. If a dark look could take life, she would drop to the floor, lifeless. However, his rage did not deter her. "Such a feisty girl" he cupped her rump and pressed her tight against his hardness. He moved even closer to close the gap between them. She gasped and quickly closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was to come. But he came to a sudden halt, only an inch from their faces. His hot breath fanned her flushed face as they breathe each other's breaths. "Don't dare tempt me, Kamilla. I might forget youâre my friend's daughter. You're too young for my taste" teasing her, he brush his nose against her cheek. It was meant to be a warning, but she took it as an affrontâone that ignited the wild spirit within her. "And if I dare?" she challenged, pushing aside her racing heartbeat. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14499&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/t39.35426-6/461415597_1260067862022397_8120933530998203639_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vyDJbglhP8gQ7kNvgFnrDOt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ALaIheoE_Br65O2iU0dnBL3&oh=00_AYA_QXZrEPAUp-POwfv2RobyxhlT7y2qf0YHrg66Y4l37Q&oe=674D998D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | After six years, Stella Richard finally came back this familiar city. She walked out of the airport and hailed a taxi. When the taxi moved, all the memories she had tried to forget over the years began to flood her mind... Stella shook her head, chasing those thoughts away. This time, she hadnât come back to dwell on old, useless memories. She was back because her boss had asked her to return. He told her that their company was at a dead end, and he wanted her to come back and solve the crisis. At first, Stella didnât want to come, but after some thought, she decided to return... Six years ago, her boss had helped her during the most difficult time of her life, and she wanted to repay the favor... As for everything else, she no longer cared... At the Company... As Stella arrived, she noticed that most of the employees were engaged in a lively discussion. As she walked by, snippets of conversation reached her ears. "I heard that there are so many companies who want to buy our company." "Really! That means weâll have a new boss." "I just hope that our new boss should be good-looking, like a Korean drama CEO." "Hey! Do you know whoâs going to buy the company?" Stella heard their chatter but didnât care about the gossip. She knew these people didnât actually care about who would buy the company or for what price. They just wanted to gossip. But she... She cared... and she was here to secure a good deal for her company. "Of course, itâll be Kingstonâs, the RK Group. Who else in the city is powerful enough to challenge them?" Stella, who had been about to continue walking, stopped in her tracks. A name, both familiar and unfamiliar, reached her ears. "The Kingstons..." "RK Group..." Suddenly, memories Stella had locked away began to surge like a storm. Her mind was filled with those memories like a flood. Stella felt dizzy. It was as if she were still trapped in that RK mansion, surrounded by cold walls. Stella had thought she had long forgotten about him, but it seemed that it was just her illusion. [Flashback] Six Years Ago... In the RK Mansion... Stella walked out of the gate inside the living room. But her expression was somber. She moved as if in a daze. "Madam, what happened to you? Why do you look so pale and weak?" The one who spoke was Mia. She was working for Kingston's for years and always treated Stella like her daughter. Seeing her pale face and weak demeanor, Mia was worried. "Mia... Donât worry, Iâm fine. Itâs just..." Stella glanced at the reports in her hand and said, "I havenât had my period for two months, and when I went to the hospital..." She didnât finish her sentence, looking at Mia with a mix of expectation and worry. They just stared at each other. Mia understood what Stella wanted to say. She was pregnant. But Mia also knew about the relationship between Mr. RK and Stella. She didnât know what to say. In the end, she just congratulated her. Stella didnât say anything and kept staring at the reports in her hand. She had been married to Rene Kingston for three years. But theirs was not a marriage of love... It was a contract marriage, with a three-year time limit. Because the woman he loved was her sister. RK had been about to marry her sister, Sophia, but for some reason, Stella had ended up replacing her sister. From the day they married, he had told her that their marriage was just a three-year contract and nothing more. For RK, their marriage was indeed just a contract, but for Stella, it was a beautiful gift from God. Because only she knew how happy she was when she found out she was going to marry RK. The man she had loved throughout her youth. All these years, Stella had given her best in this marriage, hoping that maybe, just maybe, their marriage would work out. Maybe he wouldnât divorce her. Maybe he would want to stay with her... Maybe he would give their relationship a chance because of the child... Stella was still lost in thought when suddenly, a voice came from the door, shattering all her hopes and illusions. "I donât want this child." The voice was cold and hard. Stella and Mia both turned to look in the direction of the voice. RK was standing at the door, staring at Stella. His face was cold and expressionless. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He had a very handsome face and blue eyes. His blue eyes were like the deep ocean. If you looked into them. Then you would be drowned in it. Chapter 2 RK walked in and stood in front of Stella. He appeared like a king, towering above the world and looking down upon everyone as if they were nothing. With his tall frame and commanding aura, he exuded an undeniable power. Stella sat on the sofa, overwhelmed by his presence. She remained seated, staring at him, shocked by his words. She never expected this man to be so cold-blooded, uttering such harsh words without a second thought. There was no hesitation in his voice when he said he didnât want the child. Stella looked into his eyes, trying her best to remain calm and hold back her tears. She didnât want to appear weak in front of this cold man. The two of them just stared at each other in silence. After a while, RK walked over and sat opposite Stella. As he sat down, his assistant, Alex Triston, placed a stack of papers on the table. At the top of the papers were the words "Contract Expired." Alex looked at Stella and said, "Miss Richard, according to your contract with Mr. RK, three years have now been completed. Please sign here and finalize the process." Stella noted the change in how Alex addressed herâfrom Mrs. RK to Miss Richard. Even though she still hadn't signed her name. A mocking smile appeared on her face. She was sure that Alex wouldnât have dared to take her so lightly, if it hadnât been ordered by someone, of course, and that someone was none other than her husband. RK took the pen and signed his name without a pause or thought. After finishing, he looked at Stella and said, "You can stay here for a week and look for the house." Stella looked into the man's eyes which are calm as a lake. There was no regret, sadness, or hesitationânothing. It was as if he felt nothing about their relationship, which had suddenly gone through such a big change. But as this thought crossed her mind, she scolded herself. "Stella, are you a fool? How can you expect any regret or sadness from this stone-hearted man?" But still, she couldnât control her emotions. Because she had loved this stone-heated man for so many years. Stella didnât say anything and just looked at the man with whom she had spent the past three years. She had seen his face every day, yet now, as she looked at him, she still found him strikingly handsome. But... he was also the man who had shattered her heart into a thousand pieces. She didnât want to show her vulnerability in front of him, so she tried her best not to cry. Her hand trembled as she held the pen. She looked at the papers, saw his elegant and strong handwriting, and signed her name. Just like her heart, her handwriting was also broken. Stella was shattered inside, but she didn't show this on her face. After she signed her name, she took a deep breath and said, "I am very grateful to Mr. Kingston that he allowed me to stay here for a week, but after our contract expires I don't think I should stay here. I will leave immediately." After speaking, Stella glanced at Mia and asked, "Mia, can you help me pack my things?" Mia looked at Stella's face and saw how hard she trying not to cry and her heartache. She didn't want to do this, but she had to do it. Stella went upstairs to pack her belongings, while RK watched her retreating figure, his emotions unreadable. Stella looked around the room where she had lived for three years, her eyes turned blurred... She can't hold back her tears. She knew their marriage would end someday, but she hadnât anticipated such intense pain in her heart. Stella didnât have many things to pack. She just packed her belongings but left everything RK had bought untouchedâ not even a single piece of clothing. Mia watched her in silence, unsure of what to say. Stella wiped away her tears and said, "Mia, donât worry about me. Iâm fine. Itâs just that Iâm not his Mrs. Right." With that, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs. Downstairs... RK was still sitting on the sofa, watching Stella. But Stella didn't want to look at him and was ready to leave... "Where are you going?" Suddenly, his cold voice cut through the silence. Stella paused and turned to look at him. She hadnât been on good terms with her family from the beginning, and after her marriage, it had been nearly impossible to maintain any connection with them. As for him, they were now divorced, so she felt no reason or obligation to tell him where she was going. "I donât think my whereabouts has anything to do with Mr. Kingston. Weâre already divorced and have nothing to do with each other. Mr. Kingston must be focused on his future wife, not on his ex-wife..." Stella's tone was cold and it was like she was throwing daggers from her mouth. She couldnât comprehend his hypocritical behavior. She wondered if it was her imagination or not, but it felt as though, after mentioning his future wife, the temperature in the room had dropped a lot. She felt a chill spread through her body and decided to leave. "Wait a second." His voice was firm and allowed no rebuttal. Chapter 3 Stella heard his voice and stopped. There was a little bit of hope in her heart. The man's eyes were dark and cold, filled with mysterious thoughts, and a layer of fog surrounded him. Suddenly, he spoke, "I don't want this child. Don't forget to take it out." RK looked at the woman in front of him and thought. She seemed like a pure and beautiful woman, and he didn't want her to carry his burden. Stella's hand, which was holding her luggage, trembled, and the little bit of hope in her heart vanished. She felt like someone had stabbed a knife into her heart. He had broken her heart so many times, but... she didnât know why she still felt hurt every time it happened. "Boooom." His words exploded in her head like a bomb, and the little bit of hope she had left in her heart was also gone. The hands holding the bag tightened. She felt like someone had stabbed her heart, and she could smell the blood. Suddenly, she laughed at herself. She felt like a fool. How could she expect anything from a man who was so cold toward his child? "If you don't want this child, then why did you sleep with me?" She wanted to yell at him, but in the end, she didnât say anything. He had once told her that he liked children, which was why she hadnât taken the pills. But... It was as if he liked children but not with her. Stella's heart was in so much pain, but she didnât want to let him see her tears. She didnât turn around, keeping her back facing him. Stella took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Kingston, donât think too much. I also donât want this child at all. I have already decided to get rid off it." She was about to leave but then stopped and said, "One more thing, I hope we donât see each other again in this life." After she said, Stella didnât stop for a minute and left. At first, she didnât want to leave this place, but now... She felt suffocated. Stella held her bag tightly and left without looking back. RK watched the womanâs back, struggling to keep herself straight and not stumble. His eyes were dark and filled with unreadable emotions. Only after her figure disappeared from his sight did his tense back relax. [Flashback end] "I am sorry, I didnât see you..." Suddenly, a man bumped into Stella, who was standing in the hallway. Files fell to the ground. But because of this she also came back from the memories from six years ago. "No, I am sorry," she said, helping him pick up the files before going into the elevator. As the elevator door opened, Jack Paul stood outside and greeted her. Jack Paul looked at Stella with a smile and said, "Stella, here you are. How are you? You are new here. If you need anything, please feel free to tell me." Stella looked at him and nodded. "I am fine, thank you." As they talked, they went to his office and sat down. Jack looked at Stella and said, "Stella, I am very happy that you accepted my offer and came back." As he spoke, he handed her a red file and continued, "I am sure you have heard that our company is going to be acquired by someone. This file contains the reports I made; take a look." Stella took the file and nodded. Jack continued, "Many companies want to buy our company, but among all of them, RK Groups is the best. However, the price offered by Mr. RK was too low." He paused and said, "This time, I ask you to come back so that you can turn the situation around." "RK Groups... Rene Kingston..." Stella's hands holding the file trembled. The memories she had locked away deep down in her heart suddenly resurfaced. Stella calmed herself and said, "I will do my best." "Thatâs good," Jack laughed and said. "Now that you have taken on this project, I am not worried anymore." Chapter 4 The next day, at a coffee shop... Stella had already organized all the documents and asked the negotiation director of the RK Group to meet her at the coffee shop. As she was waiting, a man wearing a black suit and gold-rimmed glasses came over. But when he walked over and saw Stella, he looked shocked. Stella also looked at the person in front of her and was shocked, too. Because the one standing in front of her was RK's assistant, Alex Triston. For a moment, both of them stayed quiet. It was Stella who took the initiative and said, "Long time no see." Alex heard her words and quickly regained his composure. He nodded and sat down. Stella didnât waste much time and went straight to the point. "Mr. Triston, here are the documents. If you find them satisfactory, please sign them." As she spoke, she pushed the documents in front of him. Alex looked at the eye-catching price of 70 million and was shocked. "Miss Richard, the RK Group can only offer 40 million. The price your company is asking for is very high." Stella didnât want to sign this contract from the beginning. She would never let that man become her boss. She felt like she was wasting her time on the RK Group and should find another company. "It's alright, but we can't sign this contract." She said, packing her things and deciding to leave. Alex saw that she was about to leave and that she wasnât interested in this deal, and he panicked. He rushed over and stopped her. "Miss Richard, please wait. Let me call and ask about the price again." Stella stopped and nodded. "Of course." Alex stepped to the side and made a call. **** At the RK Group's CEO office... RK was sitting in the head chair, listening to a report from the marketing department, when his phone rang. RK glanced at the phone and hung up. He didnât like being disturbed at work. But after a few seconds, it rang again. The people standing in the office saw his cold expression and trembled. They felt like the person on the other side was about to die. RK's face didnât look good, and the people reporting to him felt a chill down their spines. RK picked up the phone and asked, "What is it?" His voice was cold. Alex reported the situation on the other side. "Tell them itâs not going to happen. 70 million is too much; theyâre not worth it." After he finished speaking, he was about to hang up. But Alex said something that made him pause for a while. His fingers tapped on the table, and after a minute, he replied, "Okay, then let's agree to 70 million." After that, he paused for a moment and added, "Tell her Iâm coming to the company, and ask her to personally explain to me how itâs worth 70 million." After he spoke, he hung up the phone. There were some unknown emotions in his deep blue eyes. The people from the marketing department heard his words and were shocked. "The CEO is going to personally sign the contract." "Is that negotiation really worth his visit?" Moreover, they knew that in this negotiation, Mr. Kingston didnât need to be personally involved. All of them had question marks on their faces. **** Alex wasnât too far away, so Stella could hear parts of his conversation. She heard Alex directly reporting her name to the person on the other side of the phone. Within just three minutes... "Miss Richard, wait! Mr. Kingston said that they have no problem with your price. The agreement must be set according to your companyâs plan. Let's quickly sign the deal so that no one can back out." After he finished speaking, he took out the documents, signed his name, and handed the pen to Stella. Looking at his arrogant attitude, as if he had already bought her company, Stella was a little shocked. She stared at the pen in a daze. She hadnât expected the agreement between the two companies to go so smoothly and effortlessly. Stella felt like she had made her stand clear by not lowering her price and being firm in her decision. But who would have thought that RK would be even more determined than she was in the acquisition of the company? He even agreed to sign the contract at her price. "Didnât he pride himself on never changing his decisions, no matter what? Then why did he change this one?" she thought. "Was it because, after living with the love of his life, he changed?" But no matter what. Now, what could she do? Stella took the pen and signed her name. She didnât care about him anymore. Anyway, she wasnât going to stay here. Usually, she didnât want him to become her boss, but what could she do? She needed to finish this job and leave quickly. Alex put the documents back, shook hands with her, and said, "Miss Richard, from now on, weâre colleagues in the same company. Please take care of us in the future!" Stella just gave him a forced smile. Only she and God knew how much she didnât want this man to be her boss. Alex looked at her and added, "Miss Richard, please go back to the company quickly. Mr. Kingston will be there in a while. He said he wants you to... personally explain how your company is worth 70 million." Alex also didnât know why his boss wanted Miss Richard to do it personally, after what happened between them before. But as an assistant, he could only do as he was told. ***** On the way back to the company... Stella was sitting in the car, but her mind was filled with thoughts of how RK would soon become her boss. "Ahhh! Stella, youâre the best. You just signed the contract as soon as you showed up!" The one who speak was the assistant to the director of the company. "Stella, you donât know, but before you came, Mr. Paul sent many people to negotiate with Mr. Kingston, but he only kept lowering the price." She hugged Stella and said happily, "Stella, youâre our lucky star." Stella just lowered her head and didnât speak. Because it wasnât what she wanted. Lily continued, "Stella, you just came back, so you probably donât know much about the city, right?" As she spoke, she leaned closer to Stellaâs ear and whispered, "Let me tell you, Mr. Kingston is the most handsome man in X City. Heâs not only handsome but also rich and capable. Heâs the dream man of many women in the world." Stella heard her words and felt speechless. "I heard that he had a fiancĂ©e before, but he already left her, six years ago," Lily said. "He didnât marry her sister?" Stella couldnât believe they hadnât married yet. Didnât he give her a divorce because he wanted to marry her sister? She thought that by now, they must be married, have children, and be living happily together. "Stella, here you are." When Jack heard that Stella had reached an agreement with RK Groups, he personally came to welcome her with a big smile on his face. "Stella, you didnât disappoint me. Quickly, go to the meeting room and sit for a while. Mr. Kingston will be here soon, and you will come with me to welcome him." | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14852&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/goodnovel/1?lpid=14852&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/t39.35426-6/463458162_1057416305697342_2990773163964624253_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qk_QKcbVp_cQ7kNvgHur59m&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMMWvBoSe5XmW65H7LbzbOr&oh=00_AYBgFyRVfGyyAkI2xkLA44H1Ir9xcG4atm8BhQq6zJPcWw&oe=674D98FF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | 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 grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured 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 boulderâeach 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 objectsâit 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 sharesâthe 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 ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand 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 Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed 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 upâher 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 messâresignation 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 wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda 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 homeâLydia 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, thoughtsâthey'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 shipâthe 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 Yagleâa 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 assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho 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 selfâunresponsive 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 flickeredâa 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 exceptionalâtangy 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 notebookâher 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, butâŠ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher 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 guessâit 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. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&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=10922&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/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=41iAW8r1fuMQ7kNvgHdJ9e3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AHsWsNnJTuJhI2qvQ8J-O0X&oh=00_AYBgt9_Ij9ZMKP6yLgeMq7wPSNDEKgMQtqh7GMUNarM8bA&oe=674D7E5F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/everlasting_flowers_915 | everlasting_flowers_915 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/everlasting_flowers_915 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram Profile | 0 | instagram.com | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/everlasting_flowers_915 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/464922991_900556175371309_3312236866400879795_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=uHM7DffPgKoQ7kNvgEeQfbm&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDxlqHZtzDE1a2Ev_H12fxmCERLMXB4PZDaHPhc-uyxaQ&oe=674D9202 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | 0 | everlasting_flowers_915 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+ | đ Ready for superior sun protection on the go? đĄïž Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick â SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. đȘ Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. đ Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. đ Non-greasy, non-sticky â enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. đClick Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight! | SHOP_NOW | https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-phys | HeartlyLove | https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/ | 748 | 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/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448075521_751810550195118_764718425287112450_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HYss40IqVtkQ7kNvgEijT8L&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A1_T-0LSJZ7YQeLPL9Qxz2A&oh=00_AYBsmR-gAkFvaiM-8JqWCdMapoZQU7bg2fbIJNTQGnskbA&oe=674D8A8F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | HeartlyLove | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:56 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan'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 Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she died from postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her 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 met a tragic fate. 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." Sophieâs 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. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "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. 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. 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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461187280_530302359577039_9028737156718146571_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jwN33oTQr9EQ7kNvgFPeiZ2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Af23-rKL631B8dzdaqSIXfz&oh=00_AYBYlqntRmPQoJuB85Xx_DvpU9LE3Tl39Ze02vJnH6hfuA&oe=674D88C3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 20:00 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | Sheâs just my best friend, my husband said. What kind of friend would claim a married man as HER husband just to âget some support in a strange cityâ?! From the moment I met her, I should have thrown her out! But no, they told me I was âoverreacting.â Overreacting?! If I really had, maybe I wouldnât have woken up alone, only to find my husband hugging his so-called best friend in the middle of the night! Chapter 1 The beginning of it all. (ARIELLEâS POV) The scent of the dinner wafted through the room, as I focused on my husband, Jared. His dark hair falling just right, framing his straight nose and sharp jawline. Even in his casual clothes, the man had an undeniable presenceâbroad shoulders, a sculpted chest. He couldâve walked right out of a magazine, yet here he was, with me. It was our anniversary, and in commemoration of that, I had suggested that we had an indoor dinnerâ just the two of us. Despite his usual aloof self, Jared had created time from his usual busy work schedule, and that was a gesture I considered lovely. Especially when he looked up at me with those smoldering eyes, it was hard to stay upset. I had chosen to sit across from him instead of our usual dining positionâbeside him because I wanted to see all of his reactions when I finally broke the good news. Yep, I just discovered that I was pregnant yesterday from our family doctor, and I stalled the news, so I could break it to Jared during the anniversary dinner - Whatever way would have been better? Celebrating an anniversary, and the conception of a baby. Sounds like a double party to me. âThis meal is delicious, Arielle,â Jared commented, interrupting my line of thoughts. âI don't understand why I'm always awed by your culinary skill. You are a chef after all.â I flashed him the most beautiful smile I could muster, feeling flustered by his compliment. âThank you, Jared. That means a lot coming from you.â He smiled back, but his was not as wide and bright as mine. âYou didn't have to make so many dishes, though. Two or three would have been just enough. It's only the two of us after all.â I clicked my tongue, there he went again. I was just about to reply to him, to tell him that it was our anniversary and I wanted to make it special, when his phone rang, the shrill sound disrupting the calm atmosphere. Jared's face fell when he looked at the screen, and then his expression turned apologetic. âExcuse me, Arielle. I have to take this. Itâs work,â he said and rose to his feet. I felt a lump form in my throat, as I nodded in understanding, trying to mask my disappointment. âItâs fine, go on. I'll be here,â I said, my voice coming out flatter than I intended. âIâll make it up to you, I swear. I'll get you new jewelry, whatever you want,â he called out as he rushed out of the dining room. I reclined back on my seat, frustrated and disappointed. Itâs 9 oâclock. Who leaves their home at this time for work? Itâs our special day for crying out loud, and making it up to me with jewelry? My eyes inadvertently rolled. Men need to learn that gifts are not always the key to a woman's heart; quality attention is. I sighed for the umpteenth time. He hadnât mentioned when heâd return, as usual. Would he even remember our anniversary when he was done with work? The food once appealing, now looked unappetizing. Our anniversary dinner, ruined by a work call. I got to the sitting room to wait for Jared. Pregnancy reactions made me drowsy, and even before I knew it, I fell asleep and woke up with a start hours later. My eyes groggily opened to an eerily calm house. I was still on the couch, alone. Looking up at the clock, my heart sank. It was a few minutes past 12 o'clock. A painful realization dawned on me: our anniversary was over. Anger enveloped me as I realized that Jared wasn't home yet. I had been so excited to share my news with him, but now, that too was ruined. I walked over to the dining room, the remnants of our anniversary dinner still laid out on the table. Fine, guess this was the karma for me, a star chef, taking a two-day leave and not cooking for my appreciative guests but cooking for my husband. Sighing in resignation, I cleared the table and sent some of the food to the trash. In the early morning, I arrived at the restaurant, the familiar chaos of the kitchen greeted me like an old friend, and so did my colleagues. Their expression is a mix of concern and curiosity. âArielle! You came so early! I thought you were taking a two-day off.â I forced a smile, still feeling the pain of my ruined anniversary dinner. The kitchen could be my refuge and cooking was my escape. Once I returned to work, my hands started to be busy in the rhythm of chopping and sizzling. Hours later, a waitress rushed into the kitchen, a distressed look on her face. âMa, there's a customer insisting on seeing you,â she said, her voice urgent. âWhat's the problem?â I asked, surprised. âShe wouldn't say, and she's being really rude,â the waitress responded. âShe says she wants to see the chef in charge.â I hurriedly took off my apron, washed my hands, and followed the waitress out to the dining area. âHi, I'm Arielle, the head chef,â I said, stopping in front of the customer's table. âSorry youâre upset. Can you tell me whatâs wrong with the food?â The customer, a pregnant woman, looked me up and down, her eyes blazing hot with anger. âWrong? Everything! Your food tastes so bland,â she spat. âI can't believe you call yourself a chef.â I listened patiently, and afterward, I defended my cuisine, explaining our menu and ingredients, but she remained adamant. âI don't care about anything you say,â she snapped. âI'm going to wait for my husband to arrive and have you fired.â What? I slightly frowned and maintained my professional demeanor. âMa'am, I assure you that our food is prepared to the highest standard and with the best ingredients. If you'd like, I can make it up to you with a complimentary dish of your choice.â The woman flipped her hair nonchalantly. âThat won't be necessary. I still want you fired for almost poisoning me and my unborn child. Just wait for my husband to arrive and he will have you dealt with.â I took a deep breath, excused myself and headed back to my office. The whole thing was absurd. Iâd been a chef for years and seen my share of unreasonable complaints, but this was something else. Who did she think she was and who was her almighty husband could have me fired on a whim? I was just about to get back to work when a knock sounded on my office door. âHeâs here, Maâam,â the waitress called out. I sighed. It was already a rough day, and I only hoped to wrap up this nonsense quickly. I composed myself and stepped out. Whatever power this husband of hers thought he had, I wasnât worried. I knew my work, and I knew my worth. But as I walked back into the dining area, my breath hitched as I caught sight of a tall figure speaking to the woman. She saw me first and informed her husband, gesturing to me. And before he turned to face me fully, I already knew who the man was. A burning sensation filled my chest as I stared at the gorgeous face that I slept with most nights. It was Jared, my husband! Chapter 2 The third wheel (ARIELLE POV) Oh well, color me surprised! I blinked severally to ensure that I was not seeing wrongly. My eyes widened in shock, my mind trying to process the scene before me. My husband, Jared, was standing beside another woman, a pregnant woman who claimed to be his wife, in a restaurant where I worked. The womanâs words earlier reverberated in my ears, âmy husband will have you fired!â My heart pounded, breathing suddenly becoming difficult. I felt like I had just been punched in the gut. I took a step forward, my voice raspy and barely a whisper, âJared?â Jared met my gaze, his composure unwavering. âHey, Arielle,â his tone was disturbingly casual, as if it were completely normal to be caught with another woman whoâd called him her husband. My eyes narrowed at him, as I expected him to offer me an explanation. Before Jared could respond, Sofia stepped forward, her face a mask of surprisement, âOh, you must be Arielle! Iâm so sorry for the confusion. Iâm Sofia, Jaredâs old friend.â Looking at my expressionless face, Sofia continued, her voice syrupy sweet, âJaredâs been so kind, helping me get settled in town. I just returned from abroad and Iâm going through some tough times. Heâs been such a wonderful support.â My eyes never left Jared's face, my gaze unnerving. âSupport?â I asked, unable to mask the disbelief in my tone. Jared nodded. âYes, support. She's pregnant, new in town and almost helpless. She needed someone to talk to and to help her navigate her way around town. I was just being that friend.â Still, I was not convinced, and my eyes shifted to Sofia, who stood there with an air of vulnerability, her eyes pleading for understanding. âAnd the child?â Jared frowned and his voice became serious, âOf course not! The child isn't mine, Arielle.â I relaxed a bit, deciding to trust my husband. Just then, Sofia cleared her throat to get my attention. âUmm⊠Arielle, right? I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was totally out of line, you see, being a pregnant woman in a new city alone isnât easy. I needed some support, so I may have exaggerated Jaredâs role a bit. You understand, donât you? How do we women sometimes need to feel protected?â she said innocently. I looked away, reluctant to accept her apology. She was rude, claimed my husband as hers, and even threatened to have me fired. But Jared noticed my reluctance, and signaled me to forgive her. âIt's okay, I forgive you,â I mumbled, but then my eyes caught the glint of a vibrant blue gem on her wrist. Wait a second, is that the Blue Diamond limited edition? The one I glimpsed in Jaredâs bag last night? I thought it was an anniversary gift for me! Sofia was definitely aware of my stare. She turned to me, making puppy eyes. âOh this bracelet? Itâs from Jared. Arielle, surely you don't mind Jay-Jay getting his best friend a little gift for coming back home?â Jay-Jay? Seriously? I smiled coldly, my lips pressed together in a thin line. I didn't bother responding to Sofia's question, instead, I turned to Jared and said, âI need to speak with you in private, in my office.â Without waiting for a response, I turned and strode away. As I left, Sofiaâs voice drifted after me, saccharine-sweet: âJay-Jay, I had no idea your wife was this sensitive.â Jared trailed behind me, our footsteps echoing in the hallway that led to my office. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, Jared following closely behind. Alone with him now, I turned to face him, my face bearing a displeased expression. âWhat's going on, Jared? Why are you buying gifts for a pregnant woman, a pregnant woman who claimed to be your wife a few minutes ago.â âArielle, I promise, it's not what it seems like. The bracelet was for you. I justâŠI just didn't want to hurt Sofia's feelings. Like I said, she's going through a tough time.â âAnd you expect me to believe that? You abandoned our anniversary dinner, promising me a compensation gift, and now I see you giving it to another woman?â Jared's face turned pleading. âPlease, understand. I'll get you another one, a much better one.â I shook my head, my expression cold. âIt's not always about gifts, Jared. Occasionally, your aloof nature makes me wonder if you're invested in our relationship and marriage, as much as I am.â Jared's face fell, his expression hurt. âCome on, don't talk like that. I am committed to our marriage too.â I ignored his words and went on. âIt doesn't seem so most times because I don't understand why you're unwilling to hurt another woman's feelings, without caring if your actions hurt me, your wife.â Before he could respond, a thought struck me. âJared, did you even come home last night after you left?â He nodded. âI did. You were asleep on the couch. I didnât want to disturb you. I just left. Return to the company to continue working.â Heâs really busy. I felt a stab of guilt but pushed it aside, focusing on what mattered now. âWill you be home tonight?â âSure.â âAlright, let's see later at home and talk about this then.â Jared tried to apologize again, but I cut him off. I was too tired for arguments, and besides, I had to go back to prepping for lunch service. He finally placed a feathered kiss on my forehead before stepping out. A sharp exhale, after Jared left. There would be time to sort through my feelings later. For now, I needed to get back to work and focus on something I could control. After regaining composure, I made my way out of the office to continue my work. By the time my shift was over, the sun had dipped below the horizon. I was tidying up when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and discovered it was Ashley, my best friend. A smile broke out on my face, and I answered the phone. âHey, where are you?â Ashleyâs voice sounded from the other end. I was taken aback by her unusually serious tone. Ashley never directly called me at worktime, why was she asking? âStill at work, about to leave though. Whatâs going on? You sound worried.â I asked. Ashleyâs next response sent a chill down my spine. âArielle, I just saw Jared and a pregnant woman going home togetherâŠâ Chapter 3 When doubt creeps in. (ARIELLE'S POV) âAshley, I need to go. Thank you for the information. I will call you back later.â After the phone call with Ashley and figured out the home she said was actually my mother-in-lawâs house, I tried my best to handle my whirling thoughts. Jared was always considerate and meticulous. I thought I knew this man after three yearsâ marriage. However, Iâve never seen him as emotional as he was in the restaurant, nor have I seen him break his words, twice in a row. He promised to wait for me at our home, now this? I sighed as I stepped down from my car. Upon arriving at the old mansion, nothing prepared me for the sight I was met with. Sofia was seated comfortably in the sitting room, and she was not alone. She was with Jared's mother, and they were conversing and laughing happily. While Jared was sitting alone on the single sofa next to them. âWhatâs going on here?â I managed to ask, a lump forming on my throat. As I approached, Jared rose smoothly, reaching for my coat. âMom wanted to see Sofia, so I brought her over,â he explained, his tone measured. âYou could have told me first,â I said quietly. Jaredâs eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of apology passing through them, before he went upstairs with my coat. Great. Now I had to deal with this on my own. Sofia turned to me with a carefree look, like she owned the house. âOh, hey, Arielle. Iâm glad you are home. Jared's Mom and I were catching up.â My eyes grew suspicious as I tried not to glare at Sofia. What is she doing here? Why is my mother-in-law so friendly with her? Jaredâs mother looked up at me, her expression neutral, not as warm as when she was talking to Sofia. âWelcome back,â she said curtly, then turned her attention back to Sofia. âGo on, dear, you were saying?â I was hurt and embarrassed as I stood there, feeling like an outsider in my own home. I thought I knew Jared too well, but now I was terrified that he might not have told me the entire truth about his relationship with Sofia. Because, how come she was merely his friend but had such a close relationship with his mother? âOh, I was saying,â Sofia's shrill voice interrupted my thoughts. Why do I think she was intentionally being loud so I could hear her? âI returned from abroad to celebrate Jaredâs birthday, and I met Arielle at the restaurant earlier. It was our first time meeting,â Sofia continued. I sneered at her forced cheerfulness. I hope she also told Jaredâs mother how rude she was, how she threatened to have me fired, and how she claimed Jared's was her husband. âOh, really? That was nice,â Jared's mother said, obviously intrigued by the conversation. âI still can't believe Jared married a mere chef. I mean, donât get me wrong, but it is not exactly a prestigious job and not befitting for the wife of a billionaire.â She was smiling brightly, but I could see the challenge in her eyes. She wanted me to react. I raised an eyebrow and gave her a cool laugh. âTrue. Jared always complains that I cook for the guests, not for him. It really takes skill to satisfy a billionaireâs taste every single day.â Sofiaâs lips twitched, and I could see her struggling to keep her composure. âOh, I didnât mean to belittle your skills or your profession. I just think Jared could have... chosen differently.â I shrugged slightly. âHe did. He chose me.â Sophia was choked. âAll right, all right. Arielle. Sofia was merely voicing her opinion,â Jaredâs mother chipped in. âIndeed,â I said, sarcastically. She then turned to Sofia, âOkay Sofia, dear, let's not talk about Arielle anymore and focus on our previous discussion. Tell me everything about your trip.â I rolled my eyes and took a seat. However, Sofiaâs words caught my attention: âSo I arrived in town last nightâŠâ Last night. The same time Jared had supposedly been working late. The rest of their conversation faded into background noise as my mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. Sofia glanced away, seemingly unbothered by my silence. As the pieces fell into place, a realisation hit me: the call Jared received last night was not about work, but because he went to pick Sofia at the airport. My heart sank into my stomach. Why did he have to lie? Slowly, doubts about my marriage crept in. Do I really know the man I'm married to, or are there things about him I still need to know? Jaredâs mother suddenly turned to face me, a smile on her face. âArielle, in case you have been wondering how come I know Sofia, I will tell you now. Sofia and Jared have been friends for a long time. They share a special bond, and I wish you could get along with her as well as Jared does.â I forced a smile, not trusting myself to speak. Get along with Sofia? I couldnât even stand being in the same room with her. âIâll go prepare your favorites, ladies,â Jaredâs mother said, getting up and heading to the kitchen. The moment she left, Sofia turned to me, her eyes glinting with mischief. âOh, Arielle, did I tell you Jared and I go way, way back? Oh, I didn't? You see, we met as early as in kindergarten, and he's been chasing me for twenty years,â Sofia narrated. My eyes widened in surprise. Why didn't Jared tell me all of these? âCan you believe it? Twenty whole years! Jared liked me a whole lot and used to do anything I asked of him. We went to prom together, and he even carved our initials on the bark of an old willow tree in the park. I was a beautiful girl, I still am, and I had numerous suitors back then. Jared was so jealous that he used to even fight off any male that got close to me.â Sofia continued. As Sofia spoke of their past, a mix of curiosity and jealousy churned in my stomach. I pushed the feelings down, forcing my lips into a polite curve. âThat's the past, Sofia, Heâs married to me now and nothing would change that.â Sofiaâs smile faltered for a second, but she didnât stop. âAnd yet, he ended up marrying you just a month after I travelled abroadâŠâ âThatâs enough, Sofia. Iâm sure that my wife doesnât need all those details,â Jaredâs voice suddenly sounded from behind, interrupting Sofia. As I turned to face him, his gaze darted away. Chapter 4 Trouble in paradise (ARIELLEâS POV) While Sofia clamped her mouth shut, startled by Jaredâs sudden appearance, I slowly rose from the chair, still reeling from the shock of all I had heard. I was heartbroken that I had to hear all of that from Sofia, who also doubled as my husbandâs life crush. I couldnât believe it. I got to Jared and ignored him completely as I walked past, but he tried to talk to me. âArielle, please listenââ he said, trying to reach for me. I shrugged his hand off and walked upstairs, my eyes welled up with tears. I got to the room and collapsed on the bed, numb, exhausted and disappointed. Just then, a text arrived on my phone. It was from Jared: âIâm sorry.â I sighed and put the phone off, before falling into a turbulent sleep. The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed, and the absence of Jared felt heavy. He must have slept in the guest room again. Or worseâwhat if he had slept in the same room as Sofia? The thought made my heart race, but I quickly shook it off. Doubts might be creeping in, but I knew the man I married. After getting ready for work, I headed downstairs and found Jared waiting for me in the foyer. âHey, good morning,â he said, planting a kiss on my cheek. âYeah, good morning,â I responded, trying to act cool too. âLook, Arielle, about yesterday. Sofiaâs just struggling with the pregnancy because it's her first. It's making her become needy and overly pampered. Please don't take it too personally. Don't believe everything she said. Kindly forgive her,â Jared pleaded. Instead of softening my heart like the words were intended to, they only made me bitter at the fact that my husband was in defense of another woman. Speaking of pregnancy, was he aware that I too was pregnant? Of course not, he had prioritized his ex over me on the day I was supposed to break the news to him. âIâm going to work now, Jared. And when I get back, I would rather not see that woman here again.â My day at work was uneventful, a blur of cooking and cleaning, and soon it was closing time. I was in my office wrapping things up when a knock echoed on the door. âWho is it?â I called out. âRebecca, Ma,â my junior chef replied. âA hot man is waiting outside for you with a massive bouquet, â she announced, and I didn't miss the giggle in her voice. I paused, confused. Did I have an appointment? I quickly grabbed my bag. âIâm coming out now.â As I stepped outside, Jared stood by the entrance, bouquet in hand. I was momentarily taken back, but regained myself and swirled around to face Rebecca. âUnfortunately itâs not some hot man, just my husband,â I said. I wouldn't blame her, Jared had only visited my new place of work the day of Sofia's saga, so itâs reasonable no one here was acquainted with him. âHey, what are you doing here, Mr Smith?â I asked, stopping right in front of Jared. âApologising to Mrs Smith for being a jerk. Arielle, I am so sorry I didn't tell you about Sofia earlier. I have no excuse. Can you forgive me? To make it up to you, how about a weekend getaway date at our first house?â Jared said, all smiles. At that moment, my heart softened and every fiber of anger I harbored within me ebbed away. Our first houseâa cozy penthouse we had chosen and decorated together after we marriedâheld so many good memories. It was seldom visited later due to its long distance from my current workplace. To say I was pleased was an understatement, I was beyond the moon with excitement. Finally, a vacation that will help me forget all the dramas of the past days and who knows, it could be the perfect place to break the news of my pregnancy to Jared! âSo, what do you say, Mrs Smith?â Jared inquired, looking at me expectantly. âIâd say,â I blinked, âMr Smith does know how to please a woman.â He melted me in his kiss. âThank you love, for forgiving me and accepting the offer,â Jared said, a smile spreading across his face. âHere is your flower,â he handed me the bouquet. I accepted it, inhaling the fragrant lavenderâmy favorite. âThank you,â I mouthed. Jared led me toward the parking lot, opening the door for me before getting in on his side. As we drove to our penthouse, anticipation bubbled within me. An hour later, we pulled up at the parking lot of the house. It was located inside a reputable estate. But as we alighted, something didn't seem right. I tried to place what it was and a few seconds of racking my brain brought it to my cognizance as I noticed a light on in one of the rooms. âJared, I think someoneâs in the house,â I said as we approached the front door. âWhat do you mean?â he asked, a puzzled look on his face. âLook,â I pointed, âthe light is on.â âCome on, Arielle. You are being paranoid. You probably forgot to turn off the lights the last time we were here,â Jared said, waving off my observation. I was just about to protest when the front door swung open, and there stood Sofia, a bright smile on her face. Jared and I halted in our tracks as we exchanged surprised looks. âWhat the hell? What are you doing here?â I snarled at Sofia, unable to control my rage this time. âTake a chill pill, Arielle. I got the address of the place from Jared's mum. She asked me to live here pending when I get a place of my own. She insisted the cozy environment would be good for my pregnancy.â Sofia explained. âYou have no right to be here! This place is for Jared and me. I canât believe she gave you the keys,â I shot back, furious. The hell, why do I keep seeing this lady at every turn I take? âOh, my bad, I didnât know you two would visit here anytime soon... I'm so sorry, I'll leave right away,â Sofia said, feigning a sorry look that I could tell was absolutely fake. âArielle, letâs go inside first,â Jared suggested. I glared at Sofia before storming inside, storming past her at the door. âSofia, this place is like a safe haven for me and Arielle, and we cherish it so dearly, especially Arielle, that seeing another face in it seems a bit improper,â Jared began in a calm tone, the moment we were all inside the house. It was almost like he was being cautious with his words and didn't want to hurt her. âItâs fine, I understand. Iâll leave right away,â Sofia said, putting on a pathetic act. âThat will be gladly appreciated,â I said, feeling no atom of pity for her because I could see through her emotional game. But that wasn't the case for Jared, he doesn't want a pregnant woman to suffer so much, so he intervened. âArielle, that won't be nice. It's late, and she's pregnant,â he said in a placating tone. And then he turned to Sofia, âYou can spend the night here, and we will discuss the issue of your housing in the morning.â Sofia shook her head, pretending to be weak. âNo, I wouldnât want to cause any tension between you two.â âNo, she's fine with it,â Jared said and turned to give me a pleading look. âRight, Arielle?â I ignored them both, deciding to take a tour of the house to calm my nerves. As I walked through, I noticed the changes. Jared and my decorations have all been discarded and replaced by different designs. Anger rose from the deepest part of me as I knew no one else would be responsible for the act, except Sofia. Ready to confront her, I marched back to the sitting room, my vision blinded by raw fury. I had just gotten to the sitting room, when Sofia suddenly squealed and rushed up to Jared, snatching the bouquet in his hand. I must have left it in the car, and Jared had thought to bring it inside for me. Just when I was about to yell at Sofia to hand me my flowers, she exclaimed, âOh, Jared, you are so sweet. I can't believe you still remember my favorite flowerâŠâ Chapter 5 Having to deal with a bitchy third wheel (ARIELLE'S POV) I stopped in my tracks at Sofiaâs words. Did she just say her âfavorite flower?â âThe bouquet, hand it over. It is mine, Jared got it for me.â I said, smiling coldly. Sofia sneered and turned to Jared. âJay-Jay, the flower is for me, right? Remember, back then during high school days, you used to gift me lavender flowers when you came to pick me up on prom nights. When you called me your best friend, Jay?â Jared looked thorn, as he looked from me to Sofia. I couldn't believe he was even contemplating it! That flower was mine for Christâs sake, he should simply ask her to hand it back to me, the right owner. âUmmm⊠Arielle, let Sofia have it. I will get you another one tomorrow, I promise,â Jared finally said. My mouth fell open in surprise. I couldnât believe my ears. Yet again, Jared had chosen his âbest friendâ over me? âYou are unbelievable, Jared!â I exclaimed. Sofia turned and smirked at me, a triumphant look in her eyes. Only I could see her because she had her back to Jared. âI canât stand this,â I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. âYou two can have the house to yourselves, I will look for a hotel to crash in.â I turned around and stormed off to the place where I kept my bag, ready to leave. As expected, Jared appeared beside me, his face apologetic. âArielle, you donât always have to lose your cool. Sheâs pregnant, and I heard pregnancy hormones affect womenâs behavior a lot.â I wanted to scream and ask him what about me? Was I not pregnant too? And then the bitter reality dawned on me that yet again, my chance of breaking the news of my pregnancy to Jared had been ruined. âSay something love, please,â Jared frowned. âI have nothing to say. Leave my way, I have to get a hotel before it gets too late,â I finally said, making to walk past him. âIâm truly sorry, Wifey. Fine, how about I make us dinner? I know you hate making dinner at night, so Iâm volunteering to take up the task tonight.â I sighed, as I considered his offer. I hated cooking dinner late, and I hate eating out too. If I sleep at a hotel tonight, I am definitely going to eat out. Reluctantly, I accepted Jaredâs offer. Making dinner will be the perfect punishment for Jared, as he will have to do the dishes afterward. And besides, deep in my heart I wouldnât want to leave my husband alone with Sofia. I was just about to let him know that I had accepted his offer when Sofia spoke from behind me. âWhy would you offer to cook, Jared? Cooking is a domestic chore, and is meant for women alone. You see, I have been working hard all day, cleaning this whole house and putting away decorations I found Medieval and out of vogue. Iâm so tired and canât lift a pin, else, I would have offered to do the cooking. As for you, Jared, Iâm sure you are tired as well. Being a billionaire CEO is no easy feat, and after a long day at work, you deserve to rest. Arielle, here, should do the cooking. She seems so energetic and even ready to get into a fight, the energy will be a lot useful if she uses it to make us dinner. Besides, she is a domestic worker and cooks for a living.â I was dumbstruck as I listened to Sofia ramblings. With the way it spoke, a stranger would have mistaken her for the mistress of the house. Jared must have realized that Sofia was crossing the line because he immediately intervenes. âThatâs enough, Sofia. You canât speak to my wife in that manner. Do not go to that extent next time,â Jared chided. Although I was not all too satisfied with his tone, I was glad that Jared had finally spoken up and put Sofia in her place. Finally, my turn to make faces at her. Sofia immediately puts on a hurt expression. âI canât believe this, Jared. I wasnât being rude to her, I was merely telling the truth! You have changed a lot since you got married, Jared. You have forgotten the bond we used to share!â âIâm sorry if I hurt you, Sofia. ButâŠâ I didnât wait for Jared to finish as I walked off, leaving them to themselves. I was utterly disappointed in Jared. This minute he scolded her, the other, he is trying to pacify her. I arrived in the kitchen and began to take out the ingredients for dinner preparation. I intended to make macaroni, chicken, and cheese. A few minutes into it, Jared stepped into the kitchen, looking remorseful. âI would like to help with dinner preparation, Arielle,â he said, coming to stand beside me. I knew telling him no will be of no use as he will only grow persistent, so I merely shrugged and carried on with what I was doing. âWhat are we having,â Jared asked. I knew he was trying to initiate a conversation because a mere glance at the ingredients on the kitchen counter could tell anyone what we were having. âMacaroni, chicken and cheese,â I said simply. I was in a complicated mood, and in no way interested in a conversation with him. After getting the ingredients ready and having placed the macaroni on fire, I turned to Jared, a serious look on my face. âFor the last time, Jared, I want you to clarify your relationship with Sofia.â Jared sighed and took my hands in his, caressing them softly. âI promise you, Arielle, Sofia and I are just good friends. I might have a crush on her back then in high school, but that was all there was to it.â I nodded, and took my hands from his as I went to check on the food on fire. Jared helped with the remaining preparation of the food and a few minutes later, dinner was ready. I set the table, while Jared cleaned the kitchen after me. âI will go call Sofia,â he said to me, as I settled in the dining room to eat dinner. I nodded, without looking up, my attention fixated on my food. Seconds later, I heard approaching footsteps and I knew it was Sofia and Jared. I refused to look up, focusing on my food. I heard Sofia pull the chair opposite me, and settled in it. âThis smells nice, I hope it tastes nice too,â Sofia said, as she uncovered her food. Jared sat down on the seat beside me, and soon, everyone was digging into their plates. Suddenly, Sofia made a throaty sound and the next second she was on her feet as she scurried away from the dinning. Jared went in hot pursuit, while I sat back, wondering what was happening. I didnât have to wonder for long because Jared and Sofia returned minutes later, with Jared looking worried, and Sofia looking pale. âWhat happened?â I inquired, looking from Jared to Sofia. âWhat happened is that you tried to poison me, making it the second time. First, it was at the restaurant, and now, in your house. What did I ever do to you?â Sofia said, feigning tears. âI donât understand. Why would I poison you? Jared was in the kitchen with me, and I served everyone the same food,â I said defensively. âYou added milk to the macaroni, and I am allergic to milk!â Sofia yelled. âThatâs right, Arielle. Sofia is allergic to milk. You shouldnât have added it to the meal,â Jared said. I was too stunned to look at Jared. We were in the kitchen together, and he saw me use the ingredients, milk was never part of them. I rose to my feet, having lost appetite. âJust for the records, Sofia, I never used milk in that dish. As a matter of fact, thatâs my milkâfree recipe. You can ask any of my customers in the restaurant. But what difference does it make? You already decided that I poisoned you. Good night,â I said, smiling coldly before exiting the dining room. Chapter 6 When he chose her over me! (ARIELLE'S POV) I retired to the room upstairs, my head throbbing with a migraine. I couldnât believe what had just happened in the dining room. Jared didnât even scold Sofia for insinuating that I poisoned her. He knew me too well, that I wouldnât hurt a fly, not to mention a pregnant woman. I didnât like Sofia, alright, but the last thing I wound ever do was hurt her. She must be rejoicing now, knowing that her plan to cause a rift between me and Jared had worked. We couldnât even have dinner in peace. Her presence is always disrupting the peace of my marriage. I sighed and collapsed on the bed, wondering what to do to get Sofia out of Jared and Iâs life. Realizing that I was feeling sleepy again due to my pregnancy, I got off the bed and walked into the bathroom for my night shower. After that, I slumped on the bed in exhaustion. I didnât know how long I slept, but I woke up with a dry throat and a thirsty tongue yearning for water. I got off the bed, slipped my legs into my flip-flops and made my way downstairs, to the kitchen. As I ascended the stairs and approached the hallway to the kitchen, I heard voices. Getting closer, I realized it was Jared and Sofia talking. My face frowned in disapproval as I looked at the grandfather clock at the far corner, and it read 1 oâclock in the morning. Why the hell was Jared up by that time and talking to her? He was supposed to be in bed with me. Just then, Sofiaâs voice filtered to my ears, it was not just that sweet voice, but her words. I stopped in my tracks as I listened to her. âWhat were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle, Jared? She is mean and lacks human sympathy. Didnât you see how she was unconcerned about having me thrown out, at night? She is not only mean, but inconsiderate too for making you pick her up late from work. You should be resting after a stressful day at work and not playing the role of a driver to her.â âShe didnât ask me to, Sofia. I did it willingly. She is my wife after all,â I heard Jared say. I scoffed, at least he said a word in defense of me this time. âYou have changed, Jared. This isnât you. What has that woman done to you?â Sofiaâs shrill voice cried out. âStop it, Sofia. For someone with a failed marriage, you have no right giving hot takes or interfering in mine. Our past is over, just let it remain so.â âBut you know it Jared, you know I divorced my husband because of you!â My eyes widened. What the hell? What did Sofia mean by that? âNo, you didnât! Donât drag me into your divorce story!â Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury. I could feel the heat of his angerâit didnât ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act like this, so much of⊠rawest emotion. Then I heard a sob escape Sofiaâs throat. And soon, her sobs grew into a cry. I moved closer. To my consternation, Sofia had moved into Jaredâs arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. I was infuriated and disgusted when I saw Jared wrap his arms around her, consoling her. Angry, and my thirst momentarily forgotten, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of Jared and Sofiaâs excesses. After packing, I slipped out of my robe into a more decent clothing before grabbing my handbag and making my way out. I walked towards the stairs, and just at the entrance, I saw Sofia standing, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face, and a malicious glint in her eyes. I decided to keep my emotions in check and maintain composure. I will avoid confrontation with Sofia as much as I can. All I was concerned about was leaving. I ascended the stairs, and as expected, Sofia blocked my path. âI have no strength for this, Sofia. Kindly leave the way,â I said, my voice firm. âAnd if I donât? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?â Sofia asked, hands akimbo. âCome off it, Jared is not here, so you might as well drop the act. There was no milk in the food, and what you did back there at the dinning was merely a stunt to draw Jaredâs attention to yourself, like the attention starved kitten that you are. Now, leave my way, I have no time for your drama.â âYou just refused to see the reality didnât you? Alright, you may pass,â Sofia said and made way for me. I sneered and walked straight past her. âIf we were both in danger, who do you think Jared would save first?â Sofia suddenly asked. âWhat?â I didnât have the time to process what she meant, because the next minute, I felt a push on my back and lost balance, skidding off the stairs to land at its base. I let out a loud guttural scream, and Sofia must have heard Jaredâs approaching step because she quickly rushed to me and laid down beside me, making groaning sounds like we fell together. God, this woman was despicable! I wanted to shout, to expose her, but the pain was too intense - especially in my abdomen. Oh God, the baby! Panic surged through me, and another scream followed. Sofia echoed my cry, louder, trying to steal Jaredâs attention. Jared rushed in. His eyes flicked back and forth between us, confusion written all over him. I couldnât speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby. For a moment, I thought he understood. He immediately rushed to me, but just as I was expecting him to carry me up, he halted and turned to Sofia instead. Before I slipped into unconsciousness, all I recalled was Jared saving Sofia instead of me. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&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/t39.35426-6/461604491_1225956918603236_8779588018568492096_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mzrqCIdhXggQ7kNvgFmccJf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5NP2GhRRwR-5ICxI_CjcHn&oh=00_AYCtYsZ7b92LnYKiq0vTBaW_cyeISQjbE5MabMqpGMEemA&oe=674D8D0C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:43 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | Liesel Sharp had just unlocked her phone while waiting for her IV drip to be done when she received a message from her best friend, Chelsea Walden. "Jacob's back." She faltered. She and Jacob Ford had barely spoken throughout their month-long cold war, so she had no idea he was back. Soon, she received another message. "He's brought a young woman back with him." A photo had been sent with the message. The young woman in the photo resembled Liesel a littleâshe was Natalie Sharp, Liesel's younger half-sister. She'd been raised in the countryside. Chelsea continued, "The Sharp family is throwing them a welcome-back party. Do you want to crash it, Lili?" She knew what Liesel was like. Liesel would give Jacob a taste of his own medicine if he dared to do anything to her. There was even a chance she would set the Sharp residence on fire. Liesel checked her IV bag. She'd had a high fever for three days now, and the back of her hand was swollen from the constant IV drips she'd been on. She wasn't in the mood for that nonsense. "No," she replied. Then, she shut her eyes to get some rest. It was close to 10:00 pm when she took a cab back to Viewpoint Residences. The fever had taken its toll on her, so she soon drifted into a restless sleep. Jacob returned at some point, which woke her up. "Did I wake you?" he asked while rolling up the sleeves of his ironed shirt. He looked down at her with an indifferent gaze. His voice was as alluring as always, though. "No." Liesel's voice was a little nasal because she'd just woken up. She explained lazily, "I wasn't sleeping too soundly after taking my meds." He frowned slightly. "Are you sick?" She chuckled softly. She'd been sick for a while now and had mentioned it in her texts to him when admitting defeat. Yet he looked like he'd only just noticed. She poured two glasses of water and handed one to him. "How are things at Norton City? I heard from Brook that there seemed to be some trouble with it. Youâ" Her throat felt dry and uncomfortable; she wasn't in the mood to chat. Still, someone had to back downâit had been nearly two months since they'd seen each other. However, Jacob cut her off. "Let's divorce." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14615&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 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=14615&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/t39.35426-6/465213480_523643177252179_1090236802447429735_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=njJrogalBGEQ7kNvgGFEF4y&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZO84i2ldjwS4p8ttgsGnSJ&oh=00_AYAaI-p35lKRrw9fGDeJBS1Qxu9jrNJNopJXHC6u6Phn1A&oe=674D8A19 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:59 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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đRead the next chaptersđ | At Grace Mansion, the lanterns in the corridors cast intricate shadows on the window frames, resembling beasts looming on the walls. Carissa Sinclair sat on a chair with her hands folded in her lap, her slender body hidden beneath plain clothes. She looked at the man before herâher husband whom she had spent a year waiting for. Barrett Warren was still wearing his slightly-worn battle armor. Standing under the dim light, he looked commanding and handsome. His face showed a mix of determination and a touch of regret. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is 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 wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife and equal to you." "Calling her that doesn't change anything. Ultimately, sheâs really just a concubine in disguise," Carissa replied, remaining indifferent. Barrett frowned. "What does it matter? Aurora and I developed feelings for each other on the battlefield. We earned this marriage through our achievements. I donât need your approval." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Developed feelings, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett had left to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before leaving, he had lifted his wifeâs veil and promised her, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didnât understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! Everything Carissa had done over the past year had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting her brow. Barrett spoke of Aurora Yates with a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother. Sheâs made her very happy. Even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was seriously ill. I brought in the best physician to treat her. I managed the estateâs affairs by day and stayed up nights by her bedside. It was only because of this that her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was stating 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 pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. Sheâs a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldnât want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. Sheâs straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you wonât like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" Chapter 2 Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? There was a royal edict for this marriage. Even when Aurora moves in, youâll be in separate wings. She wonât compete with you for control of the household. She doesnât care about those things.â âDo you really think Iâm attached to managing this household?â Carissa countered. Running this mansion was no easy task. Just the monthly medicine for Barrettâs mother cost dozens of silver coins. Then, there was food, clothing, and social obligationsâall these things required money. This household was practically a hollow shell. Over the past year, Carissa had used much of her dowry to keep things running. And this was her reward. âEnough, I wonât argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing,â said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. As Carissa watched him leave in a huff, she felt even more bitter. âMy lady, my lord was too much!â said Lulu, Carissaâs maid, wiping her tears away. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, why would we stay in this house any longer?â Lulu held her forehead and gasped. âBut your mother arranged this marriage, and your father wanted you to marry and have children.â Tears finally welled up in Carissaâs eyes at the mention of her parents. Her father had stayed loyal to her mother, never taking a concubine. They had six sons and one daughter. All her brothers followed her father to the battlefield. Three years ago, none returned from the Southern Frontier. Though she was a girl, Carissa came from a family of warriors and started training as a child. At the age of seven, she was sent to study under a master, where she also learned military strategy. When she returned home at fifteen, she learned her father and brothers had died a year earlier. Her mother, who had gone blind from crying too much, held Carissa close and said, "You must live like the noble girls in the kingdom. Find a good husband, marry, have children, and lead a peaceful life. Youâre the only child I have left.â Carissa felt like someone had gouged her heart out. The pain she felt was so intense she couldn't even bring herself to cry. Determined to please her mother, she spent a year mastering the traditional values and duties expected of a noblewoman. She also learned accounting and how to manage a household. Not only was Carissa the Marquis of Northwatch's daughter, but she was also known for her beauty. So, suitors flooded their doorstep. Her mother had chosen Barrett because he had sworn he would never take another wife if he married Carissa. But six months ago, tragedy struck. All the residents of Northwatch Estate were murdered. No one was spared, not even the children or servants. Each victim suffered numerous knife wounds, and their bodies were brutally dismembered. Carissaâs youngest nephew had been only two and a half years old, born after the death of her third brother. The local authorities and garrison unit captured a few of the assailants. After further investigation, they were discovered to be spies from an enemy kingdom, Westhaven. The war at the front line was raging, yet these spies didn't hesitate to reveal themselves just to annihilate her family. The manner of the murder suggested it was more of a personal vengeance than anything else. When Carissa received the news, she rushed home, only to find her grandmotherâs and motherâs gruesomely dismembered bodies. Blood stained every corner of the residence, and the dead were left in agonizing states. Now, Carissa was the lone survivor of the marquis' family. The idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. They saw her merely as a delicate, fragile woman. However, Aurora was different. She had earned military merits for her contribution to the war and became the first female general in history. Even the queen dowager had high praise for her. With Aurora supporting Barrett, his future would be more secure. That was the reason the Warren family readily agreed to the marriage. Chapter 3 Lulu brought over the dowry list and explained, "This year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins to support 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." Carissa glanced at the list. "Alright." Just looking at the list put her in a melancholy mood. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she would suffer hardships in her husband's home. "My lady, where can we go? Are we returning to Northwatch Estate? Or should we go back to Meadow Ridge?" Lulu asked, looking distressed. Images of the bloodstained estate and the tragic deaths of her family members flashed through Carissaâs mind, causing a sudden pang of pain in her heart. "Anywhere is better than staying here." "If you leave, youâll be giving them exactly what they want." "So be it. If I stay, Iâll spend my whole life suffering as I watch those two be affectionate. Lulu, I must live well to give my parents and brothers peace in the afterlife," Carissa replied calmly. "My lady!" Lulu wept bitterly. She had been born and raised in Northwatch Estate. The murder had claimed the lives of everyone, including her own family. The images still haunted her, and returning there seemed unthinkable. "Is there no other way?" Lulu asked desperately. Carissaâs eyes grew cold. "There is. I could confront the king and use my familyâs achievements to force him to reverse his edict. If he refuses, Iâll take my own life in protest." Lulu was terrified and immediately protested, "My lady, you can't!" Carissaâs expression softened, and a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you think Iâm that silly? If I manage to reach the king, Iâll only request an edict for an amicable divorce." Barrett was able to marry Aurora because of a royal edict. So, Carissa should also be issued an official edict to leave. She shouldn't have to sneak away like she was being cast out. The wealth from Northwatch Estate was more than enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She wouldn't degrade herself unnecessarily. Just then, someone called from outside, "Madam Carissa, the matriarch has requested your presence!" "Itâs Jade, Madam Rebecca's maid. It seems like Madam Rebecca wants to try and persuade you," Lulu whispered. Carissa straightened up, her expression serious. "Then, letâs go." The evening sun glowed like blood, and the autumn wind was chilly. The late king had bestowed the Warren family's current residence, Valor Estate, upon Barrett's grandfather. Though once prestigious, it had fallen into decline. Most of the Warren family's men were warriors who fought on battlefields. Only a few were civil servants who worked in the palace. Barrettâs father, Jonathan, didnât fare well in his official career. His second uncle, Gregory, only held a minor post in the Royal Citadel. Barrett and his eldest brother, Benjamin, were somewhat successful in the military. But before their recent victory, they were only fourth-ranked majors. Both families still lived together in Valor Estate. Splitting the family would only hasten their decline. Accompanied by Lulu, Carissa arrived at Rebeccaâs room. Rebecca's complexion looked a bit better, and she was sitting up in bed. She smiled warmly when she saw Carissa. "Youâre here." Benjamin and his wife, Amelia Morgan, were also in the room. Barrett's sister, Serena, and the other children of the concubines were present as well. Barrett's second aunt, Charlotte Lewis, was also seated nearby. However, her expression was cold and somewhat disdainful. "Hello, Mother. Aunt Charlotte, Benjamin, Amelia," Carissa greeted them politely. "Carissa, come here." Rebecca gestured for her daughter-in-law to sit by her bedside. The older woman held Carissa's hand affectionately and happily said, "Now that Barrett is back, you have someone to rely on. This year has been so hard on you, especially with what happened to your family. Youâre the only one left of the marquis' family. Fortunately, all of that is behind you now." Rebecca was shrewd. She made it clear that Carissa would need to depend on the Warren family in the future, since her family was gone. Carissa pulled her hand away and calmly said, "Mother, I heard you met General Yates today." Rebecca hadnât expected Carissa to be so straightforward. Her smile froze for a moment before she replied, "Yes, I did. Sheâs rather rough around the edges and doesnât compare to you in terms of looks." Carissa gazed at her mother-in-law steadily. "So, are you saying you don't like her?" Chapter 4 Rebecca forced a smile. "How can I decide that after meeting her only once? But since the king has arranged the marriage, itâs a done deal. In the future, she and Barrett will earn military merits together, while you manage the household and enjoy the benefits of their hard work. Isnât that nice?" "Yes, I'm sure," Carissa replied with a smile. "But itâs quite unfair to make General Yates a concubine." Rebecca laughed. "You silly child, how could she be a concubine? The kingâs edict makes her Barrett's legal wife. Also, sheâs a military officer who holds an official rank. Officials canât be concubines. She'll be a legal wife like you. There won't be any distinction between ranks for the two of you." "No distinction? Is there such a custom in our kingdom?" Carissa asked. Rebeccaâs expression grew a bit colder. "Carissa, youâve always been sensible. Now that youâve married into our family, you should prioritize us. According to the Defense Minister, Auroraâs contributions in this battle were greater than Barrettâs. With you managing the household, they'll be able to work together as husband and wife and focus on their military service. In the future, they'll surely become famous generals like his grandfather." Carissaâs tone remained chilly as she said, "If theyâre husband and wife, then I have no role here." "How can you say that? Arenât you still in charge of the household?" countered Rebecca, displeased. "I only managed the household because Amelia was unwell. Now that she has recovered, she should resume her duties. Iâll go over the accounts tomorrow and hand everything back to her," Carissa replied. Amelia quickly interjected, "Iâm still not fully recovered. Besides, everyone is satisfied with how youâve been managing things. You should continue doing it." Carissa smiled mockingly. Everyone was satisfied because she had spent her own money to support them. Most of it went towards Rebeccaâs medical expenses. Sebastian Dalton was a renowned physician, and his medicine was costly. Only a few could afford his services. Rebeccaâs medicine cost over a hundred coins a month, amounting to more than a thousand coins a year. As for the other household expenses, Carissa occasionally subsidized them. For example, she would sometimes use fabrics and silks from her familyâs business to make new clothes for everyone throughout the year. She didnât mind it before, as she had really wished to spend her life with Barrett. However, circumstances had changed. She no longer wanted to be a fool. Carissa stood up and said, "Thatâs settled, then. Iâll hand over the accounts tomorrow and wonât be involved in household matters anymore." "Stop right there!" Rebecca's face darkened with anger. "Carissa, youâre being unreasonable. Men having multiple wives and concubines is normal. If you can't accept that, people will say you're narrow-minded and jealous." Carissaâs compliance over the past year had made the Warren family think she was easy to manipulate. They believed a few harsh words would always keep her in line. Carissaâs expression was calm, a stark contrast to her usual docility. "People can say whatever they want. I'm not concerned about their opinions." Rebecca was so angry that she struggled to breathe and coughed harshly for a long while. In the past, Carissa would have rushed to help her. She would pat the older woman's back and try to soothe her. But now, Carissa remained where she was. The soft evening light from the doorway highlighted her delicate, almost ethereal beauty. "Carissa, look how badly you've upset Mom," Serena said as she stepped forward. Her round, youthful face puffed with anger as she glared at Carissa. "This isnât even about you. Do you think your family is still as prestigious as it once was? Your parents and brothers are gone; you're the only one left. Aren't you afraid that Barrett will divorce you if you keep putting on airs like you're a young lady from a prestigious family?" Carissa looked at her sister-in-law, who was dressed in a pale yellow outfit that Carissa had procured for her in early autumn. Now, wearing the clothes Carissa had provided, Serena dared to question her authority. How utterly⊠unsensible of her. "Take off that dress youâre wearing before you try to lecture me," Carissa said coolly. Serenaâs cheeks flushed with anger. "I didnât beg you to get this dress for me. You can have it back if you donât want me to have it." "Fine. And donât forget the jewelry youâre wearing. I expect it all to be returned to me." After Carissa said that, her gaze swept across the room. The only one who seemed pleased with the situation was Charlotte. Everyone else looked grim. "If thereâs nothing else, Iâll be leaving." With that, Carissa turned and walked out decisively. Chapter 5 The Warren family members exchanged puzzled glances. None expected the usually agreeable Carissa to stand her ground so firmly this time. She even defied Rebecca, the matriarch of the family! âSheâll come around. She doesnât have any other choice,â Rebecca said coldly. That was true. With Carissa's family gone, she had no one to rely on except the Warren family. Besides, she was still Barrett's rightful wife, and it wasnât like she had been mistreated. - Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu returned to Northwatch Estate. The estate was bleak and covered in fallen leaves. After just half a year of neglect, the courtyard was overgrown with weeds that were taller than a person. Stepping back into the estate, Carissaâs heart ached fiercely. Six months ago, she had collapsed upon hearing that her family had been murdered. She had wept when she saw the lifeless bodies of her grandmother and motherâtheir corpses cold and devoid of warmth. Every corner of the estate had been stained with blood. Memorial plaques for her ancestors and mother had been placed at the estateâs family chapel. Carissa and Lulu prepared flowers to place on the plaques, their tears unceasing. Carissa knelt before her parentsâ memorials. Though her eyes were swollen from crying, they held a determined gaze. âDad, Mom, if you can hear me from heaven, please forgive your daughter for what she is about to do. Itâs not that I donât want a peaceful life with a husband and children, but Barrett is not someone I can trust with my life. Rest assured, I promise Lulu and I will live well.â Lulu knelt beside her, sobbing uncontrollably. After they were done, they boarded a carriage and headed straight for the 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. Lulu was distressed and said, âMy lady, the king might not see you. Maybe he thinks youâre here to oppose his edict about the marriage. You didnât eat last night or have breakfast today. Are you holding up okay? Should I go get you something to eat?â âIâm not hungry.â The only thing Carissa felt was the unwavering resolve to dissolve her marriage and return home. âPlease donât be so hard on yourself. Itâs not worth getting sick over. Why donât we just let it go? After all, youâre still the rightful wife and the lady of the Warren family. Even if General Yates is to be a legal wife, sheâll just be a glorified concubine at best. Maybe we should just endure it?â Lulu pleaded. Carissaâs gaze was cold. âLulu, if youâre going to talk like that, donât speak at all.â Lulu sighed, feeling lost and unsure of what else to do. She had hoped that once Barrett returned, Carissa would find some peace. But the situation had only worsened. - In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât see her. The edict has been issued, and I canât take it back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have made significant contributions.â âIf we speak of military achievements, the Marquis of Northwatch and General Sullivanâs contributions surpass all others,â Derek countered. Salvador remembered the Marquis of Northwatch, Hector Sinclair. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Carissa was a familiar face from those days, though she had been a delicate child. He still remembered her fair skin and endearing looks. Salvador had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers. When Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. Apart from his brother who was known as the Devil Monarch on the battlefield, the kingdom had no other capable generals. In the recent war with Westhaven, Dominic Sullivanâs third son had lost an arm. Dominic's seventh son had been murdered, though this had been kept secret. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants. I'll even give her a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â Chapter 6 Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Salvador remembered the Sinclair family. Knowing that Carissa was now the only one left stirred a feeling of pity in him. "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." "I have already issued the edict. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I implore you to issue another edict. I want to divorce General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "What? You want a divorce?" Salvador thought she had come to ask him to rescind the marriage edict. He never expected a plea for a divorce. Holding back tears, Carissa pleaded, "Your Majesty, General Warren and General Yates sought the marriage edict with their military achievements. "Today is the death anniversary of my father and brothers. I wish to seek an edict to divorce my husband based on my late family's military merits. Please, Your Majesty, I'm begging you." "Carissa, do you know what you'll face after the divorce?" Salvador asked, a complicated expression on his face. Carissa hadn't heard Salvador call her by name in a long time. When he was still the crown prince, he used to occasionally visit Northwatch Estate. He would always find some interesting little gifts to give her when he did. After Carissa later went to Meadow Ridge to study under her master, they never saw each other again. "I do," she affirmed. There was a hint of a smile on Carissa's stunning face. But no matter how one looked at it, the smile seemed tinged with irony. "I'm sure you know the saying that a true gentleman appreciates and helps others to fulfill their aspirations, right? Even though I'm not a gentleman, I don't want to hinder General Warren and General Yates from being together," Carissa added. "Carissa, there's no one left at Northwatch Estate. Are you really going to go back there? Have you thought about your future?" Salvador asked. "I returned to the estate today to visit my family's memorial plaques. Seeing how the estate has fallen into disrepair made me want to live there again. I'll adopt a son for my father's sake, so there will still be someone to honor his memory," Carissa explained. Salvador had thought she was being impulsive; he hadn't expected her to be so considerate. "You're Barrett's legal wife. Aurora can't undermine your position. You really don't need a divorce." Carissa looked up with tear-filled eyes that were firm with resolve. "Your Majesty, that's meaningless. I don't want to waste my life like this. I'm the only one left from the Marquis of Northwatch's' family. My father and brothers lived honorably and bravely throughout their lives. I don't want to settle for a life of mediocrity." "I know you have feelings for Barrett. Are you willing to let go?" Salvador asked. Feelings? Not really. Carissa simply admired military men, and her mother had wanted her to marry and lead a stable life. That was why she had agreed to the marriage. Carissa smiled. At this moment, she looked like a strong woman who would be able to flourish even in the most challenging circumstances. "If he can let go of me, then I can let go of him," she declared. Beneath her delicate appearance, she possessed an unyielding backbone. This stunned Salvador. He had never seen such a woman before. He felt a pang of confusion, remembering the carefree little girl who used to smile all day long. Now, she was married and soon to be abandoned. To the world, divorce still meant abandonment. This was especially true in Carissaâs situation, as Barrett had publicly sought the marriage edict. Being a woman was already difficult, and she would have it even harder. How would she negotiate future marriages? There was no one left in her family to do it for her. Thinking of this, Salvador recalled Hector's merits, especially how they had saved each other on the battlefield, and his heart softened towards Carissa. "Alright, I agree. You may leave now. In a few days, the edict of divorce will be sent to the general's residence," Salvador said. Carissa breathed a sigh of relief and bowed her head. "Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty!" As Salvador watched her, he was suddenly reminded of when she was a little girl, and his heart softened further. "Carissa, if anyone mistreats you in the future, come to the palace and see me." "Thank you, Your Majesty!" Carissa bowed once again. | 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/t39.35426-6/459720405_1704145027090269_2250645073849330414_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Tqpbl6SIxDAQ7kNvgF5YeSy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZv114rxFEapF0Q_pdrsvqQ&oh=00_AYC6RCyMKUHLgyM4GemOydf_3gUW5NxNpXXuBTgWQRDSqg&oe=674D88AE | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | It was 1 AM when I woke up from a bad dream. I was all alone. Whereâd Jared run off to? I propped up my slightly round belly and headed downstairs to find him. Just as I approached the hallway, a womanâs sweet voice became clearer. It was Sofia, my husbandâs so-called best friend. âWhat were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle? How could she make you pick her up late from work? You should be resting after a stressful day instead of being her driver!â âI did it willingly for my wife,â I heard Jaredâs steady, deep voice. âYou changed, Jared. This isnât you. What has your wife done to you?â âHuh? You failed your marriage, now judge mine?â âStop it Jared, you know it, you know I divorced my husband because of you!â Sofiaâs shrill voice cried out. My eyes widened. What the hell? âShut up! Donât drag me into your divorce!â Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury but it didnât ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act so emotional⊠A sob escape Sofiaâs throat. She moved into Jaredâs arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. Then I saw Jared wrap his arms around her. Angry, and totally disgusted, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of their excesses! I was about to leave after the packing, but just at the entrance, Sofia stood there, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face. âI have no strength for this, Sofia. Move,â I said coldly. âAnd if I donât? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?â She asked, hands akimbo. âStop pretending. Go beg Jared for attention if you want his pity.â âYou still donât see the truth, do you?â She stepped aside with a laugh. I walked past, but she called out, âWho do you think Jared would save first?â What? Before I could respond, I felt a hard shove. I tumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through my body. Sofia screamed beside me, pretending weâd both fallen. God, sheâs so despicable! As I lay there, gasping for air, Jared rushed in. I couldnât speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby! He knelt by me, but thenâhe turned to Sofia. And just before everything went black, I saw him pick her up over me. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&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/t39.35426-6/461799208_1242524663617254_3104861789061602762_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_w_-UL6mkhYQ7kNvgGKBKSc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AOiwW-Ti-eFEKHKfUlz0E5T&oh=00_AYDQ26VAXvRWgxtlY9bfvYKIUIIXwtkiWh_FLYKGSXBk9Q&oe=674D90F3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Fall Savings! | SHOP_NOW | https://www.kycornerstone.com/New-Inventory-2024-N | Cornerstone Equipment | https://www.facebook.com/CornerstoneEquipmentKY/ | 4,546 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | kycornerstone.com | CAROUSEL | https://www.kycornerstone.com/New-Inventory-2024-New-Holland-Construction-Compact-Track-Loader-Compact-Track-Loaders-C345-Franklin-Furnace-OH-16430993?ref=list | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467942627_538614129147722_1959221494560926721_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ugx7muqqjVIQ7kNvgGJuUW-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ab8gd9HhX-a-RdcqnCeUGD4&oh=00_AYB5773PdnMA4atxdrK_rGT6eJCaFy5NXfR3tH0cTbRZKA&oe=674D8549 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Cornerstone Equipment | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Fall Savings! | SHOP_NOW | https://www.kycornerstone.com/New-Inventory-2024-N | Cornerstone Equipment | https://www.facebook.com/CornerstoneEquipmentKY/ | 4,546 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | kycornerstone.com | CAROUSEL | https://www.kycornerstone.com/New-Inventory-2024-New-Holland-Construction-Compact-Track-Loader-Compact-Track-Loaders-C345-Franklin-Furnace-OH-16430993?ref=list | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467942627_538614129147722_1959221494560926721_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ugx7muqqjVIQ7kNvgGJuUW-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ab8gd9HhX-a-RdcqnCeUGD4&oh=00_AYB5773PdnMA4atxdrK_rGT6eJCaFy5NXfR3tH0cTbRZKA&oe=674D8549 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Cornerstone Equipment | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ Đ”Đ” заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла Ń ŃĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж. Đ ĐœĐ”ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ бДлŃĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃĐ” аŃпДĐșŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșаŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đž Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃжДŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃЎОл Đș ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ·Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐŽŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃал ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃжаŃĐœŃŃ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČŃŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзла ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐœŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń . ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ, Đ”Ń Ń ĐžŃŃŃĐč ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐ” ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃОЎŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐČĐœŃĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. ĐŁŃĐžŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ” ЎаЎŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃОД ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. Đ, ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃŃа, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО Đ±Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐœŃŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Ń Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла Đ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐșŃĐ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. РазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐžŃĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐČŃŃазОŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐĐœ ŃаĐșжД ĐŸŃĐșазал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ŃĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ Đž запŃĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đа ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа, ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃЎОлŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĄĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ Ń ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž ŃаŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž плДŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаŃŃŃŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОŃŃ? Đ ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐŸĐČДЎŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОла ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” ŃŃала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз зала Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐČ, а Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đ” плаŃŃĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»ŃĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ ŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ĐČĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đž ŃЎаŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČзглŃĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃДлŃĐŸĐș ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃДлŃ, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃĐŸ...» ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐ». ĐŃŃа ĐșĐ°ĐœŃДлŃŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč Ńпала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Đ”Ń ŃДД ĐżŃОжалŃŃ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ!» - ŃĐČĐžŃĐ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃазглŃĐŽĐ”ŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃЎДлŃлОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”ŃŃалО ĐČ ŃŃŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ бЎОŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. Đ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐžŃал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·Đ°, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ĐČŃаŃа, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐŸĐłŃ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃŃ Đ°ŃаĐșĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč Ńжал Đ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ” Đž ĐżŃОжал Đș ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐŽŃŃĐł ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «ĐŃŃŃŃДД, Ń ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ» ŃŃЎа!» ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐžĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž, Đž ŃŃĐž Đ»ŃĐŽĐž ĐČĐŸŃĐČалОŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃала Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ Đž бŃла ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃŃлО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐžĐœŃĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đș ŃДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Ń. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐœŃĐ». ĐĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ Đ°: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸÂ». ĐĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐž за ŃŃĐŸ бŃаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃлОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОл, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃДагОŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČŃĐș. ĐĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃĐŒ, Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń Đ»ŃĐŽĐž за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО. «Ч*ŃŃ ĐČ*Đ·ŃĐŒĐž! Đа ŃŃĐŸ жД ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸŃĐșа. ЧŃĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐĐŒĐ”ĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃОлОŃĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń ĐžĐ· ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ŃĐșŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ· ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. «ЧŃĐŸ ж, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐŃĐŸŃ ŃблŃĐŽĐŸĐș ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃОл ŃЎДлаŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ». «ĐĐŸ, ŃŃĐČаĐș, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃĐ” Đ·ĐČŃĐșĐž, а?» «ĐаŃĐșĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčŃŃ! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃДД, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ!» ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŸŃОлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČаŃДлО ŃŃлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐČалŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃĐž Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»Đ”ŃŃĐœŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃĐž, ОлО ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșаŃалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŽŃŃга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń Đ±ŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃОлОĐČĐ” аЎŃĐ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐœŃаŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·ŃĐ”ĐČала. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа жОла ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ, ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз - Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń Ńаз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃĐČĐŸĐž запŃĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžĐč, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐżŃĐžĐŽŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. РзаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃŃĐ», ŃаĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ». ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. йОŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃОл Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ»Đ”Đ¶ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Ńпал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ! - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -Đ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДзлО паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа. ĐĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОл ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐŒŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ!» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃОла ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃŃал ŃĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃŃбĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ŃДбŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ОлО ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлДЎŃŃĐČĐžŃŃ . ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ŃĐșŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž. ĐĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, ŃжД блОзОлŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐș жД ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃжалОŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ”ŃлОŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ бŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃла Ń Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČŃЎаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа». «ĐалŃŃĐ” Ń ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃŃŃ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń, Đž ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла бŃĐŸĐČĐž. - ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČалŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń?» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐč, Ń ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐžŃ . ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżŃОбДŃĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃала, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżŃОЎала ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃŃпДла ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐлаĐČа 2 ЧŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ Â«ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃаŃ, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. - ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ŃаблОŃĐșŃ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐ” ĐŻĐœŃ. «ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ”. «ĐŃЎа ĐŒŃ ĐžĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ. ĐĐœ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа жЎаŃŃ». ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”ŃĐ” ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ŃĐŽĐŸŃаĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃĐŸĐ” ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžĐœŃжЎŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ŃĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč глаз Đž ĐżŃĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đ±ŃлО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃДзĐșĐžĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃДЎŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃĐșŃŃĐČал Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐžŃŃŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃаĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃОД Đ±Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃĐžŃ . Đ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОŃа ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČалаŃŃ Đ¶ŃŃŃĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ ŃŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃаŃŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸ: «ĐĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃĐž бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐșĐŸŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃЎДлалО ĐČаŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃОД. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃ Đž ŃбŃалО ĐČŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃлОĐșĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃЎОл ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŻ ŃаĐșжД пДŃДпŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОл запОŃĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ ŃДзĐșĐŸ пДŃĐ”Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОО «ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ». «ĐŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Ń Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżŃĐžĐłĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. «Đа... Đ-ŃŃĐŸ бŃла Ń», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đș ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ. ĐŃĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалД ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžĐșĐž. Đ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș ŃаĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŸŃŃаŃлО Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” бŃĐŽŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃŃĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃлО Ńж ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż Đș ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃжОŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ЎажД бŃаĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ń ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃОла жŃŃŃĐșŃŃ Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČŃŃал ĐĐžŃалОĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃа ЎаŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃĐœŃĐč ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. «РŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐČŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ, ĐșаĐș бŃĐŽŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». «ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «ĐаŃалŃĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃОлŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČŃ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ бŃаĐș ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ ĐČаŃĐžĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ». ĐŃĐ±Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐœŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ”, а лОŃĐŸ Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ заŃŃаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «йДбД ŃŃĐŸ, жОŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃОгŃĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșазал ŃĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ»ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃа - ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃŃа ОлО ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐžĐč за ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ЎДлОŃŃ Ń ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОла Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸ. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ° бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃлДзОлОŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃĐŸ, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ. ĐŃ ĐŒŃŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đș ĐżŃДЎŃĐŽŃŃĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±Ń ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Ńла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±Ńла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐČДлО ĐžŃ Đș ĐœŃĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ŃаĐșŃ ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ŃаĐșŃĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐČĐ»ŃŃŃŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐ”Ń: «ĐŃ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃĐ” ŃаĐș ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Ń ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ńала ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČŃŃаĐșаŃŃ?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ». ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃла Đ”Đč ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ĐŃпДĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД». «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”Ńла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. «ĐĐ” за ŃŃĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș Đž бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐČŃŃĐŸĐșа. ĐажД бДз ŃĐžŃŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ĐČŃаŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃла ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃОО Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃла ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ заĐčŃĐž ĐČ ŃŃаŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ŃапОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃаЎала ĐŸŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃĐžŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž бŃла пДŃĐ”ŃаЎĐșа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃаŃ, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° бŃаĐș, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃĐ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃĐŸŃОла ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ: «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ°, Ń ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃлДŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃаŃ». ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”ŃжĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ лОŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșаŃĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. «ĐОла, - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃĐ»Ńгѻ. ĐлаĐČа 3 ЧаŃŃĐœŃĐč паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃаŃŃĐ” Đ”Ń. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐșŃпДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃĐž. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ ĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «РĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃгД ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ?» - ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐœŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐčŃŃ ĐČ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž Ń ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșŃŃĐ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃ ŃаŃпОŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”, Đž, Đ”ŃлО ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐžŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃЎа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃŃ ŃДбД аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃ ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. «ĐĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлОŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. «ĐŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ ŃŃал ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ. - ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč лОŃĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃлДŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа». «ЯŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ Đș паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃаĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. ĐаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃĐž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐČĐœŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃŃĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ. ЧДŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ бŃла ŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ”, ĐČŃâŠÂ» - ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ· ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃжД ŃЎДлала ĐČŃĐČĐŸĐŽ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ, Đž ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа», - ŃĐșазала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐœŃĐ» ĐœĐ° апŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐ”Ńжала: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ЎДлаŃŃ?» «Đа, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃОО. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃОалŃĐœĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœĐ” пДŃДЎал Đ±Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” заŃĐ»ŃжОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐČĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃŃŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ лДŃŃĐœĐžŃĐ” ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «ĐаĐș Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз ŃĐČĐ”Ńа?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОл ŃĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. «ĐĐșĐ»ŃŃĐž ŃĐČДѻ, - ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐșĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ŃŃĐșĐžĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа бŃĐ» ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐŒŃŃлДĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, лДжаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž, ŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃбаŃĐșа бŃла ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ заŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đč ĐșŃĐŸĐČĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐČЎаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ŃĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐČŃЎаĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃОлОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃала Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃĐ°ĐŒĐž ŃазŃДзала ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃлО. ĐĐœĐ° ŃбŃала ĐČŃŃ Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŃОД ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżŃаĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ńала лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаĐČ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ±ŃлО бŃŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃĐžĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃŃŃ Đ»Đž Ń ĐČĐ°Ń Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”ŃĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČŃДЎОлО лОŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃаŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Đ”Ń. «ĐДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐČалŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃпОла Đș ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Đ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ŃĐ°Đœ. ĐĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČОД ĐżŃДпаŃаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČŃ. ĐŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃОла. Đ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ Đž ŃŃпДŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐșĐž Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃŃ». «ĐŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·Ń», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ŃпалŃĐœŃ. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° пДŃĐČŃĐč ŃŃаж, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃŃĐ» ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «Я ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČŃОД ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ°ĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃ, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ ĐČŃŃĐžŃлОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČаŃĐ”Đč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč заŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, ŃŃажОĐČаŃŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ŃлабŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃŃ ĐœŃлО ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃĐŒ блДŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° пДŃĐ”ĐČŃĐ» ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșа. «ĐŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃŃŃĐŒŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: «Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ŃĐČŃзалŃŃ Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐĐžŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČŃЎаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃаŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃĐžĐČал ĐČаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ńа. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». «ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” пДŃĐ”ŃŃаŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐČДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč. Đа ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐžŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°Đœ ĐĐ»ŃŃ. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐĐ»ŃĐž Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ŃЎалŃĐč Đ±Đ°Ń "КаŃĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃĐ” ĐŃбаŃŃĐșаŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Đа, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐ»Ńб ŃŃал ĐžŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐžŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž Đ”ŃлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃĐŸŃŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐłĐŸÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ŃŃал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșŃаĐČŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐżŃŃĐșалŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃа: «ĐŃлО ĐČŃ ŃаŃŃĐșажДŃĐ” ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ, ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń ŃжаŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ», - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ĐŃлО ŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃаĐČĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃзаŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·Ń. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла: «Я ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃаĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐčĐŽŃ». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐžŃĐŸĐșОД плДŃĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ. «ĐŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃŃлО?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž бŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ Đ¶Đ” бŃла ĐČŃаŃĐŸĐŒ. «ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ŃĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃĐčŃĐ” ĐžŃ Ńаз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ŃŃбаŃĐșĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃажаŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла бŃŃŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșŃ Ń ŃаблДŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃбОĐș Ń ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃŃĐž лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČа». ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃал ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșазала Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃжД ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐșŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐČа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐČŃаŃа. «Я ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐŻĐœŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșŃ», - ŃĐșазал глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃĐżŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃла ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸ Ń ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃ ŃжД ŃĐ”ŃОлО ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОДĐč "ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ". ĐŃĐ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐĐžŃалОŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž Đž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃŃĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. «ĐĐŸŃ ĐșаĐș?» «Đа, Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃаĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸŃДл ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃЎДлŃлаŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃĐžĐșĐ”. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃŃалŃĐœŃŃ . «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃДбД, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃаОĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČа ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃŃĐžŃŃĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. «ĐĐœĐ” Đ”ŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ», - ŃĐŒĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń ŃĐœŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžŃ, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŒŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐČ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ , ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ плŃŃ ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐ». ĐĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃла ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŽŃаĐČŃŃĐČŃĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ. - ĐąŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐłĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ĐĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒĐž ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐČ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐž бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž ŃĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž ŃĐŸ жД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐŸĐč Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃДД ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃДЎŃ, ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃĐžŃала ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž бŃла ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž бŃлО абŃĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ лаЎОлО. «Đ, ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, - ŃĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃглŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ-ŃĐŸ ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - ĐĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”-ŃĐŸ Ń Ń ĐŸŃДла Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐșаŃŃĐžĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃО», - ŃĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ŃаĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ŃаĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ŃĐČŃзалаŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃЎалОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœŃ. «йŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃала, Ўа? ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃâŠÂ» «ĐŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșД», - пДŃДбОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Đ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃĐșазала Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «РДŃŃ, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ” ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ ĐČŃŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалŃ, Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŻĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșажŃ». Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃалĐșĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃДзĐČŃŃаĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. Đа ŃĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐŸŃОО Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла ĐżŃОпаŃĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸŃĐŸŃ. «ĐŃ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, пДŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃлОŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃОЎДл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșŃ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČŃаŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč лДŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃ. Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ŃŃĐ”ĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐŸĐČĐž Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлОŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлŃŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ” Đ”Ń?» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ заблДŃŃДл ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃŃŃĐČа. «ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃŃŃĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃД». ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃпаŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДŃОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ? «ĐŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŽŃба?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃОла ЎаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ? «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, пДŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»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 | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213381671790790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465980044_413125708521433_2731594791021829920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WX3hZ3xwTaQQ7kNvgGHmUQX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ArrtRwDkdvYahn1cPSR19GP&oh=00_AYBCuL5g0YQtdCziOg-yjg6ArVjE5nuUt6V_Xw1f-HZotw&oe=674D9743 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher 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 to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." 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 wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs 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 donât really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrettâs victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... 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 Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her 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 estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "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 be generous enough to welcome Aurora." 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, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât 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-" "Thatâs 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. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." âOh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa couldn't help but laughing. 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 familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â 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 â 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 familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat 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 familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... 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 Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â 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. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in 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 dowry 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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464790229_906746757595004_1697051467009396322_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oI9NWzhXuA8Q7kNvgEEhIv4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYCjp9EhJoPzeUNj1ITTZrFv_GmvrgBTFqq7eoXj5MIaLQ&oe=674D867D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 19:47 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | Chapter 0001 "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,â a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,â a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan..." "Beep beep beep..." Undeterred, Suzy tried calling again. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable.â The doctor, no longer able to stand by in silence, spoke gently, "Miss Frost, your condition is very serious. If you have any other family members present, they're also authorized to sign on your behalf.â What other family did she have? In this world, he was the only one who could sign the consent form. No matter how much it hurt, Suzy fought back the tears that streamed down her pale cheeks and asked the doctor with a faint smile, "Can I sign for myself?" "...Yes!" With her last ounce of strength, Suzy signed the consent form for the surgery. The operation lasted four hours and was finally over, but her condition worsened two hours post-surgery, and Suzy was moved to the ICU. For 24 hours, Suzy lay in a coma, unable to open her eyes, but her mind was alert, and she could hear the nurses discussing as they changed her bandages. "Even if the marriage is struggling, a husband can't just ignore his seriously injured wife! You wouldn't believe itâI called him several more times, but it just kept going to voicemail. Doesn't he care even a little?" lamented the nurse. "Here's some juicy gossip for youâthe CEO of Wright Corporation, Dylan Wright, who's rumored to be disinterested in women and hasn't married even at thirty, actually has a girlfriend, and she's hospitalized right here in our hospital. Heâs taking care of her around the clock in the VVIP ward on the top floor." "Itâs strange how different men can beâone boyfriend is incredibly devoted, and another is worse than an animal!" Little did she know, Dylan was so close, merely an inquiry away from knowing that Suzy hadn't lied to him. Yet, he refused to waste a moment on her, simply because... she wasn't worth it! Her eyes, tightly shut, suddenly flew open, startling the nurse who was wiping her face. "You're awake!" Once awake, Suzy was immediately given a thorough check-up and, finding no serious injuries, was moved to a regular room. That night, deep in the silence, despite still being confined to her bed, Suzy removed her oxygen mask and dragged her injured left leg, wounded in the explosion, to the top floor. Outside the hospital room, through the glass, Suzy watched as Dylan tenderly fed Anne Wheeler fruits by her bedside. Her fists tightened, but the anguish in her chest, like a swarm of needles pricking at her heart, didnât ease in the slightest. Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! The intimate scene in the hospital room turned Suzy's eyes, once filled with love, utterly cold. "It's time to end this!" The moment Suzy turned to leave, Dylan felt something stir and whirled around, just as Anne let out a pained cry. Dylan quickly asked, "What's wrong?" Anne glanced at the door and then gave Dylan a weak smile. "I accidentally pulled at my wound." "Do you need a doctor?" "I'm not that frail," Anne replied teasingly. "But Mr. Dylan, you should head back. You've been with me day and night; Suzy must be upset again..." She paused, "Mr. Dylan, honestly, Suzy isn't wrong. No matter what our relationship was in the past, you are now her husband. No woman could tolerate her husband being so kind to another woman, so whatever she does is understandable. Don't be angry with her, otherwise, Madam Grace might hear of it..." Dylan cut her off, "It's getting late, you should sleep." "Mr. Dylan..." "Listen to me!" "Alright then." As Anne closed her eyes, Dylan glanced once more towards the door. Was it really... He remembered the weak voice on the phone that day. His lips tightened, and he stood up. Just as he moved, Anne grabbed his hand. "Mr. Dylan, my wound still hurts a bit. Could you blow on it for me?" A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes before Dylan finally replied in a deep voice, "Alright." ⊠Suzy didn't return to her room but left the hospital directly. A taxi took her back to the villa where she had lived with Dylan for three years. As she walked inside from the front gate, memories of the past three years with Dylan flooded back like a tidal wave. It had been a blend of sour, bitter, and spicy moments in their life together, but sweetness was conspicuously absent. Dylan had always believed that Suzy married him as part of a calculated scheme. In truth, he wasn't entirely wrong; Suzy had indeed manipulated events to marry him, but her motives were never what he assumedâshe wasn't after his wealth or status; she was after the man himself. She had hoped that time would prove her true intentions, but three years had only intensified his disdain for her. She could never forget his cruel words, "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan, you might not realize it, but I've actually been living in desperation all along. These past three years, I tried to climb out, to be normal, to be by your side, but you clearly didn't care. Since that's the case, I'll grant your wish." Taking what she needed and discarding what she didn't, Suzy left behind only the signed divorce papers and the keys to the villa. She walked away without a trace of longing, leaving nothing behind. Chapter 0002 The next morning, after spending yet another night at the hospital because Anne's pain had kept her from letting him leave, Dylan was finally on his way to the office. As they approached an intersection, he suddenly instructed the driver, "Take me to Bayview Heights." He had been wearing the same clothes for two days and needed a change. Otherwise, he wasnât too keen on returning to that place. Upon arriving at the villa, instead of the warm welcome he might have expected, he was met with an eerie silence and a chilling sight on the living room tableâa divorce agreement! Dylanâs gaze lingered on the signed divorce papers and the keys resting on top. With an unreadable expression, he paused for a moment before turning and heading upstairs. This was his first time entering Suzy's room. They usually lived separate lives, like oil and water, never mixing. The room was as clean and orderly as he expected. Over the past three years, she had personally taken care of his every need. It was hard to deny that in some ways, she had been a competent wife... Realizing his thoughts, Dylanâs brows furrowed, and he stepped forward to open her wardrobe. Clothes and jewelry, everything related to the Wright family were still there. Just as she had written in the divorce papers, she had left without taking anything, leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back. So, her cries of impending death that day, were they all just an act? He sneered. âSuzy, Iâm curious to see what game youâre playing this time.â His phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket and seeing the caller ID, a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyesâa feeling he might not have even noticed himself. âWhat is it?â On the other end, his assistant sounded particularly anxious, âSir, Miss Wheeler has had an accident!â His brow tightened immediately. âIâm on my way!â At the hospital, although bodyguards were posted at the entrance and surveillance revealed no suspicious individuals, Anne had somehow been poisoned and was in critical condition. Anne's primary doctor speculated, âMr. Wright, itâs highly likely that Miss Wheeler was poisoned before she even arrived at the hospitalâŠâ Anne cut off the doctor before he could finish, "Mr. Dylan, please don't blame Suzy. She was just trying to protect her marriage! If I had listened to her and left you as she suggested, none of this would have happened. So, this is all my own fault..." "At a time like this, you should be worried about yourself, not that ruthless woman," Dylan replied sharply. His eyes hardened as he pulled out his phone to call Suzy. "I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable..." The fury in his eyes could have swallowed someone whole. He coldly ordered his assistant, who was standing by, "Search the entire city for Suzy!" Meanwhile, at Hillside Villa. "Ah-choo..." As soon as Suzy entered, she sneezed, causing Allen Wheeler, who followed her in, to become instantly anxious. "Boss, did you catch a cold?" Sniffling slightly, Suzy sneezed again. "It's nothing." "You've sneezed twice; you definitely have a cold!" Allen set down Suzy's luggage and hurried to the kitchen. "I need to make you some ginger tea right away." Watching Allenâs worried and hurried back, Suzy thought of Dylanâs cold words, "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" People who cared about her would worry over something as small as a sneeze. Those who didnât wouldnât have flinched even if they saw her hangingâtheyâd think she was just swinging. Three years ago, she had done everything to marry Dylan, to repay a perceived debt, she had toned down her personality, and humbled herself to the dust, working tirelessly. Thinking back, she realized she must have been out of her mind. Even if he had saved her three years ago, it was her first time, and he really wasnât at a loss. The notion that she owed him anything was utterly absurd. Pushing down the pain in her heart, Suzy stopped Allen at the kitchen door. "Forget the ginger tea. However, the Goodwin family in North Avenue could use your help as a facilitator." "The Goodwin family?" Suzyâs eyes narrowed slightly. "The murderer who murdered my parents, and my own attacker three years ago, might both be connected to the Goodwin family." Upon hearing this, Allenâs eyebrows furrowed deeply. "The Goodwins are influential in politics, and it seems the player behind the scenes is bigger than we imagined. Martin Goodwin, the head of the Goodwin family, has been ill lately, searching for a renowned doctor. Iâll pass on the news that you are the miracle doctor to them soon." Ten minutes later, Allen told Suzy, "Boss, the Goodwin family needs you urgently; they want you to come as soon as possible, but your injuries..." In fact, the moment Allen saw Suzy, he wanted to ask about her injuries and where she had been these past three years. Since she was alive, why hadnât she contacted them? But she never mentioned it, and knowing her temperament, he didnât dare pry. Suzy knew Allen was worried about her, but she didnât want to bring up anything related to Dylan with anyone. It was all over, and she would never contact him in the future; there was simply no need to let them know. Yet, saying nothing would certainly not ease his concerns. After a moment, she explained to Allen, "I took care of a dog for three years, but it never grew tame; it bit me instead." Allenâs anger flared immediately. "Where is that beast? I'll knock his teeth out." No one could harm his boss and get away with it! "Heâs dead!" Dead in her heart. "Tell the Goodwin family that Iâll be there two days from now, four in the afternoon!" Two days passed in a blink. At Wright Corporation, in the CEO's office. Dylan looked up as his assistant, Desmond Hill, entered. "Didnât find her?" âThere isnât a doctor who knows how to treat the poisoning,â Desmond said hesitantly, then added, âAs for Mrs. Wright, sheâs an orphan with no family. Everything sheâs done over the past three years has been connected to you, and nothing suspicious has come up⊠so we havenât been able to locate her either.â "It had been two days..." Was she intentionally hiding, or could she have... Realizing he was actually worried about her, Dylan's brows knitted together. "Intensify the search!" "Yes!" Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan gazed into the distance, his eyes flickering with a complexity even he hadnât noticed. "Suzy, you better pray you can hide forever.â "Sir..." Desmond, who had left just a minute earlier, hurried back in without even knocking, breathless with urgency. "Look at this!" Dylan, thinking there might be news of Suzy, took the phone and saw... "Red Falcon?" "A miracle doctor in the alternative medicine world!" Desmond exclaimed, excitedly. "Sheâs renowned for curing all kinds of poisons and diseases. People call her 'The Healer of Legends,' known for treating even the most severe injuries. She disappeared three years ago, and everyone thought she was gone for good, but now sheâs reappeared. âI've just received reliable information that today at four in the afternoon, she'll be visiting the Goodwin family in North Avenue to treat Mr. Martin. Sir, perhaps Miss Wheeler could try her treatment?" "The Goodwin family at North Avenue.." The fact that the Goodwins had called upon her was proof enough of her skill. "Go invite her!" After a pause, Dylan stopped Desmond at the door. "I'll go myself." Chapter 0003 North Avenue was an hour and a half drive from South Avenue. Suzy arrived at the Goodwin familyâs estate as promised in disguise. Using the pretense of treating an illness, she took the opportunity to hypnotize Martin. Unfortunately, she didnât manage to extract any useful information. As she left, deep in thought, a sudden pain shot through her forehead as she bumped into someone... âSorryâŠâ The apology got stuck in her throat the moment she recognized the face. Dylan? What was he doing here? It was truly a case of enemies crossing paths in the most unexpected of places! In less than two seconds, Suzy tore her gaze away and walked off, her expression completely indifferent. Dylan stood there, confused. She was about to apologize to him, so why did her attitude change the moment she saw him? Especially how she suddenly looked at himâit was as if they were mortal enemies. Dylan turned, watching the direction she went, his eyes narrowing. That figure looked just like Suzy⊠âMr. Wright, weâre so honored by your presence. Iâm sorry for not greeting you properlyâŠâ The voice of the Goodwin familyâs butler snapped Dylan out of his thoughts. By the time he glanced back, the woman had disappeared. Following the butler to see Martin, Dylan found the old man looking healthy, his complexion rosy, as if fully recovered from his illness. Dylan wasted no time and stated his reason for coming. But the reply was unexpected: the miracle doctor had just left, barely moments ago. Dylan was speechless. The woman he had run into earlier, the one with freckles all over her faceâwas she the miracle doctor? Knowing it was already too late to chase after her, Dylan quickly bid farewell to Martin. To his surprise, the woman hadnât left yet. Seeing her car just start to pull away, Dylan hurried over, âWait a secâ" But his words were drowned out by the roar of the engine. Now he was almost certainâthis woman had something against him. He quickly got into his car and chased after her. As soon as Suzy saw the black luxurious car speeding after her in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. Did he recognize her? She wasnât bragging, but her disguise was so flawless that not even her parents, if they were alive, would be able to recognize her. And Dylan? After three years of marriage, he had barely ever looked at her properly. So why was he chasing her so relentlessly? Just because she hadnât apologized earlier? With a cold smirk tugging at her lips, Suzy floored the gas pedal. "You owe me a lot more than I owe you!" The red car shot forward like a bolt of lightning. "Interesting." Dylanâs eyes narrowed as he accelerated. The red car and the black one sped through the winding mountain roads, like two fierce predators locked in a relentless chase. At first, Dylan was confident in his driving skillsâhe was a man, after all. How could he not catch up to a woman? But in the final stretch, the woman suddenly did a sharp U-turn and drove straight toward him. He quickly jerked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding a collision. However, the speed was too fast, and his car skidded into the mountainside. Though he wasnât hurt, his car stalled out. Through the windshield, his eyes met hers. She flashed him a playful smile, then gave him a thumbs-down, taunting him with a level of arrogance that sent his blood boiling. Moments later, she reversed her car with impressive speed, leaving him in the dust. "Red FalconâŠ" She wasnât just a miracle doctor; she was also an ace racer. Although she wasnât good-looking, her talents were undeniable. But why did she harbor such animosity toward him? Back at the office, the first thing Dylan did was instruct Desmond, "Dig into everything you can find on Red Falconâleave no detail out." He had to find out what heâd done to make her so mad at him. Half an hour later, Desmond returned with a defeated expression. "Sir, all the information on Red Falcon is locked behind a heavily encrypted firewall. Weâve switched through several tech experts, but none of them have been able to break in." "...Send me the link." ⊠"Boss, someoneâs digging into your files!" Allen handed his laptop to Suzy, who was lounging on the couch watching a show. "It started about half an hour ago. Theyâve cycled through a few people, and the latest one is pretty skilled. Iâm having a hard time keeping them at bay." "Is that so?" Suzy's eyes narrowed, and she sat up. "Let me handle this." Her fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of code flashing rapidly on the screen. Within minutes, she closed the laptop and tossed it back onto the couch, stretching lazily. "Letâs go grab something to eat." Meanwhile, back at his desk, Dylan stared at the screen in disbelief as the code on his computer spelled out one wordâ LOSER! He nearly smashed the computer in frustration. Watching the taunting word flash on the screen and feeling the stormy tension building around Dylan, Desmond didnât dare breathe too loudly. Their bossâ hacking skills were top-tier, not just in South Avenue but globally, so how could this happen? Noticing Dylanâs darkening expression, Desmond hesitated for a moment before offering a timid suggestion. "Sir, they probably donât know itâs you, so Iâm sure they didnât mean it personally..." "Get out!" "Yes, sir!" "Wait." Dylan stopped Desmond as he was about to leave. "Use the contact information the Goodwins provided. Offer her ten million for the treatment." The main goal was to get her to cure Anneâs poisoningâeverything else was secondary. A shadow flickered in Dylanâs eyes as he quickly formulated his next move. ⊠Just as the food was being placed on the table, Allenâs phone rang. It was from an unfamiliar number. He glanced across the table at Suzy, who nodded, signaling him to answer. He pressed the speakerphone button as he picked up. "Is this the miracle doctor, Red Falcon?" It was Desmond! Suzyâs hand froze mid-motion as she was about to pick up her fork. Was Dylan really that determined to get an apology from her? Naturally, Dylan, who had never tasted defeat, couldnât swallow his pride after being repeatedly taunted by her. Not wanting to get further entangled with him, Suzy motioned for Allen to hang up. "Iâm sorry, youâve got the wrong person." Just as Allen was about to end the call, Desmond quickly interjected, "Wait, please! I have a patient who desperately needs the miracle doctorâs help. Weâre willing to offer ten million as payment for the treatment!" Suzy paused, her expression unreadable. So that was the real reason behind Dylanâs relentless pursuit? Their encounter at the Goodwin family estate hadnât been a coincidence after all? For Dylan to personally reach out and offer such a high fee... Concerned that it might involve Grace Lawson, Dylanâs grandmother, who had always been kind to her, Suzy used lip movements to instruct Allen to ask for more details. Allen asked, "Can you provide some basic information about the patient? You can send it to my phone." Hearing some progress, Desmond eagerly replied, "Of course, Iâll send it right away." As soon as the call ended, Desmond sent over all the relevant details. The moment Suzy saw that the patient was Anne, she casually tossed the phone back to Allen. "Tell them I donât treat for money. I believe in destiny, and this patient is not fated to meet me.â Allen blinked in confusion and thought, "Since when do you have such rules?" Though Allen sensed something off about Suzyâs expression, he didnât ask any questions. Instead, he simply relayed her message to Desmond. Upon receiving the response, Desmond immediately reported Suzyâs message to Dylan. Dylanâs eyes narrowed slightly. "Add another ten million!" He couldn't believe she'd turn down that much money. Suzy sneered. "Twenty million?" A twisted urge suddenly gripped herâshe wanted to test just how much Dylan truly valued Anne. Her eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell them Iâll make a house call for two hundred million. Not a penny less." Chapter 0004 "Two hundred million?" Dylan barely hesitated. "Deal!" Three years ago, after being drugged during an ambush, a girl saved his life despite being seriously injured herself. After a night together, the girl disappeared by morning. It had been too dark that night to see her face clearly, but he vaguely remembered a faint, distinctive scent on her, like some kind of herbal remedy. After investigating, he traced it back to the Wheeler family. Anne had been frail and sickly since childhood and had relied on natural remedies for years. According to her, on the day he was attacked, she was kidnapped and managed to escape. Along the way, she encountered him. Ignoring her own safety, she dragged her wounded body and gave herself to him to save his life. At the time, she was only eighteen. Anne saved his life, and he promised her marriage. Even though his grandmother, Grace, disapproved, he vowed never to marry anyone else. Yet out of nowhere, Suzy showed up. She orchestrated a heroic act, earning Graceâs favor, and step by step, manipulated Grace into forcing him to marry her. With her goal achieved, Suzy saw Anne as a thorn in her side, constantly picking fights. Lately, things had escalated â first, a kidnapping, and now poisoning... Two hundred million, or even more â as long as someone was willing to help save Anne, heâd pay any price. He owed Anne too much. ⊠Meanwhile, Allen immediately informed Suzy after receiving a response. "Boss, they've agreed." He agreed⊠It was impossible not to feel something. After all, she had loved Dylan for so many years. She couldnât help but wonder, if it were her who was poisoned, would he do the same? No, he wouldnât! Heâd wish for her death as soon as possible. That way, no one would stand in the way of him and Anne ever again. Suzy clenched her fists, suppressing the aching pain in her heart. "Deal!" It was two hundred million â since he was foolish and rich, why shouldnât she take advantage of it? But... Who exactly poisoned Anne? What was the motive? And as for the previous kidnapping, after investigating all this while, there was still no answer. There must be a connection somewhere. It seemed a visit to the hospital tonight was necessary, to first determine the exact poison in Anne's system before following the clues. That night, when all was quiet, Suzy, dressed in a nurse uniform prepared by Allen, sneaked into Anneâs hospital room. The girl on the bed had a ghostly pale face and weak breathing. Dylan would probably be heartbroken seeing her like this. It was said that Anne had once saved Dylan, which was why he held her dear. In fact, they were quite similar; Suzy also fell in love with Dylan on the night he saved her. A self-mocking smile curled her lips. Suzy had schemed to marry him, thinking he was single. After all, rumors had it that he was indifferent to women and devoted only to his work, to the extent that his grandmother who raised him suspected he was gay! It was only after marriage that Suzy found out he had a girl he liked; it was just that Grace did not approve of Anne, so she never mentioned Anne in front of Suzy. Three years ago, while Suzy thought she was using Grace, wasnât Grace actually using her too? Remembering that shrewd old lady, Suzy chuckled softly. "Age certainly does sharpen the wit!" Not wanting to waste more time, Suzy reached out to check Anneâs condition. Her brows furrowed instantly; her condition appeared to be⊠Indeed it was! Her expression suddenly changed. Suzy pulled out a syringe from her pocket, aimed the needle at a vein in Anne's left arm, and was about to insert it when her hand was suddenly grabbed. Using all her strength, Anne clutched the intruder's wrist. "Who sent you?" The medical staff in and out of this hospital room were carefully selected, and Anne knew each one well. The moment she saw the person in front of her, she knew something was off. Unimpressed by Anneâs awakening, Suzy shook off her hand and continued her previous action. As the sharp needle tip was about to pierce into her arm, Anne suddenly pushed Suzy and quickly sat up from the bed, reaching for the call button by the bedside. However, before she could touch it, her arm was pinned against the wall. Though most of the intruder's face was hidden by a mask, the chilling glare from her eyes was like a sword laced with murderous intent. Anne became even more panicked. âI am Dylanâs most beloved woman. If you dare hurt me, he will never forgive youâŠâ âSlap!â After slapping Anne, Suzy grabbed her chin. "If you donât want to die, keep quiet!" Her face stung from the slap, and her jaw felt like it was about to be crushed. However, from the intruder's words, it seemed she wasnât here to murder her. Anneâs fear slightly subsided, and she stopped struggling. Seeing her finally quiet down, Suzy released her chin. After drawing the blood with the needle and finishing her task, Suzy removed the needle and left, not caring about the still bleeding puncture site. Having suffered such a grievance, Anne was not about to let it go. She quickly pressed the call button, âSomeone is trying to murderâŠâ Before she could finish, her throat was grabbed. The woman's speed was alarmingly fast, shocking Anne. âI didnât want to murder youâŠâ Suzyâs fingers tightened inch by inch around her neck. âBut since you seem tired of living, Iâll grant your wish!â This wasnât just a threat; Suzy genuinely intended to murder Anne. Indeed, Anne was no saint; she was quite skilled in manipulating situations. Over the past three years, she had framed others multiple times. Suzy had been patient only because Anne was Dylanâs favorite. Now... She didnât care about who he loved. Furthermore, Anne owed Suzy that much. If it hadnât been for her protection, Anne wouldnât have survived long enough for Dylan to rescue her from the kidnappers. Seeing Anne's face turn red with difficulty breathing and veins popping on her forehead, the murderous intent in Suzy's eyes deepened. Just a bit more pressure and Anneâs life would be over! Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. They were distant, inaudible to most, but Suzy, with her exceptional hearing, could hear them clearly. It was Dylan! She felt a bit disgusted by how familiar she was with his steps. As the footsteps grew closer, Suzyâs gaze hardened, and with a swift motion, she knocked Anne unconscious with a sharp blow to the neck. After all, Anne was worth two hundred millionâthere was no reason to turn down that kind of money. Shifting her gaze slightly, Suzy quickly opened the door to the balcony and then slipped into the bathroom. The next second, the door was pushed open. Dylan entered, his eyes falling on the open sliding door to the balcony. His brows furrowed as he instructed Desmond, who followed behind him. "Close the door..." His words were cut off by a startled cry. "Ah..." Anne, who had thought she was doomed, suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling, gasping for air in terror. "Did I wake you? I've been too busy these last few days to visit. How are you feeling?" Dylan walked to the bedside, noticing her distressed expression. "Did you have a nightmare?" Turning and seeing Dylan, Anne immediately threw herself into his arms, showing him the marks on her neck and the needle mark on her arm, "Mr. Dylan, just now, a woman disguised as a nurse drew my blood and then tried to strangle me." Chapter 0005 Dylanâs eyes shifted back to the balcony, giving Desmond a subtle look. Desmond searched the area and reported, âSir, thereâs no one here.â âCall the doctor.â Dylanâs gaze turned cold. "And tell the hospital to lock down all exits. Not a soul steps foot inside or out without my explicit authorization." âYes, sir!â After the doctorâs examination confirmed that only blood had been drawn and nothing else had been done to her, Anne finally let out a sigh of relief. The attackerâs identity was still a mystery, and with her current vulnerable condition, it was hard not to feel afraid. But what puzzled her was why someone would go through so much effort just to draw her blood. However... With a shift in her gaze, Anneâs eyes welled up with tears. "Mr. Dylan, thereâs something Iâve hesitated to say, but sheâs really gone too far this time." It was a perfect opportunity to throw dirt on Suzyâs name, and Anne couldnât let it slip by. Gripping his hand, her tears flowed even harder. "Iâm already half-dead from the poisonâwhy wonât she leave me alone? Does she think Iâm not dying fast enough, so she sends someone in the middle of the night to drain my blood?" Dylan's expression darkened, but he didnât respond directly. He simply said, "Weâve already found someone who can cure you with an antidote.â Anneâs eyes flashed briefly with surprise, though she quickly masked it. "But... I was told that this poison has no cure.â âThereâs always someone better who can treat you. Weâve arranged everything with a miracle doctor named Red Falcon, who will help detoxify you. Youâll be cured soon.â âRed Falcon?â Anne questioned, trying to hide her unease. âIs she really that skilled?â âYes, Mr. Martin from the North Avenue had a terminal illness, and thanks to her treatment, he made a full recovery.â Dylanâs voice softened. âDonât worry, Iâll handle everything.â For Anne, it was always âIâll handle everythingâŠâ For Suzy, it was always âThis doesnât concern meâŠâ Listening from her hiding spot in the bathroom, Suzy had convinced herself she'd be numb to Dylan's tenderness toward Anne. Yet, as his gentle tone drifted through the door, she felt an unexpected pang. Despite everything, it still stung. Tired of eavesdropping, Suzy silently opened the window and leaped out. Like a bat in the night, she vanished without a traceâso swiftly, no one would ever know. At the hospital entrance. Growing anxious from waiting, Allen was just about to go in and help when he finally spotted Suzy emerging. He hurried out of the car and rushed over, giving her a quick once-over. âBoss, are you okay?â âIâm fine.â Suzy kept walking without stopping. âStop worrying about nothing.â However, Allen sensed something was off. Logically, with the kind of influence Suzy had, Allen knew he shouldnât be worried. But the ambush three years ago had left him deeply scarred. He could never forget the moment he saw her fall off that cliff with his own eyes. For three years, Allen had hated himself for not protecting Suzy, failing in his duty as her subordinate. So, when Suzy called to inform him she was still alive, Allen swore that, this time, he would give up his life if necessary to keep her from getting hurt again. He wanted to handle this mission for her, but she wouldnât allow it. From the rearview mirror, Allen glanced at Suzy, who had been silent since getting into the car. He couldnât shake the feeling that there was something complicated between her and Anne. Allen realized he needed to find someone to discreetly investigate the matter. His gaze hadnât fully returned to the road when Suzy caught him staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly. âBoss, did you find out what kind of poison it was?â Suzy paused briefly. âItâs Scarlet Veil.â âScreechâŠâ The brakes squealed as Allen slammed on them in shock. âScarlet Veil? But that was your masterpiece! Didnât you destroy it along with the formula three years ago?â âThereâs one last dose⊠with the Harlow family.â âClaude Harlow?â Allenâs eyes widened. âWhat kind of grudge could he possibly have against a young girl to go this far? Everyone knows that poison starts off mild, but once it hits again⊠sheâll be no better than a dog in heatâŠâ Suzy had created the sinister poison to deal with a monster in the past. Even she was confused. The Harlows and Wrights had no bad blood between them. In fact, the Harlows even had business dealings with the Wheeler family. If Claude was behind the poisoning, sheâd rule him out as a suspect in the earlier kidnapping. That much was certain. There was no way Claude would have, or could have, let Suzy come so close to dying in that explosion. No matter who it was, she was determined to find them. It wasnât about proving her innocence to Dylan. She simply wouldnât swallow that humiliation! Whether it was the kidnapping, the ambush from three years ago, or the one responsible for murdering her familyâshe wasnât going to let any of them off the hook. Her eyes burned with hatred when Allen suddenly handed her the phone. "Boss, Dylan sent a message. He wants to arrange the treatment as soon as possible." Thinking of that deceitful man and his tenderness, she said, "Tell him the dealâs off." Earning two hundred million was tempting, but what intrigued her more was seeing what would happen to Anne after the second wave of poisoning hit her. ⊠In the corridor outside Anne's hospital room. Though Dylanâs face remained expressionless, his eyes were as cold as ice. "What did you just say? Repeat it." Desmond, bracing himself, repeated, "Red Falcon said the deal is off." He regretted it now. He never should have mentioned Red Falcon to Dylan that day. This Red Falconâfirst she demanded an outrageous sum, and now she was backing out. Didnât she know just how bad Dylanâs temper was? Suppressing his rage, Dylan growled. "Give me the phone." Desmond quickly handed it over. Dylan dialed the number. It rang but went unanswered. Once, twice, and again, until his patience wore thin. Finally, a soft voice came through, "Sorry, I was busy." Desmond quickly wiped the sweat that had started to drip down his forehead. Thank goodness the call got answeredâotherwise, his phone wouldâve met a tragic end. The phone itself wasnât worth much, but the data stored inside was priceless to him. âIâm looking for Red Falcon,â Dylan said bluntly. âSheâs not available. If thereâs something you need, you can tell me, and Iâll pass it along.â Dylanâs eyes narrowed. âThe price was already agreed upon. Why cancel now?â âPlease, Mr. Wright, stay calm. Itâs true that canceling the arrangement on our side is a bit abrupt, and we apologize. But we have our reasons. Do you think weâd walk away from two hundred million so easily if we didnât have a reason to?â âWhatâs the reason?â âThatâs not something we can share with you, Mr. Wright. I suggest you find someone else quickly before Miss Anne misses the best window for treatment.â Without waiting for a response, Allen hung up the phone. The next second⊠Smash! Desmond watched in despair as yet another phone met its fate. His heart shattered even more than the phone. âFind her!â Dylan ordered, his voice cold. He was determined to see what kind of game she was playing now. Desmond wanted to say, âEasier said than done.â Not just Red Falcon, but also Suzy, who had been missing without a trace for so long. Why did it seem like every woman around him enjoyed playing hide and seek? Inside the hospital room, Anne had been listening to the commotion outside. Once she heard Dylan and Desmond leave, she quickly locked the door and pulled out another phone hidden under her pillow. âDylan found someone to help me get an antidote, but I overheard that they backed out.â Anne sneered. âHe keeps saying how great this Red Falcon is, but it seems sheâs all talk. She mustâve realized she couldnât actually cure me, so she ran at the last minute.â âIf she created the poison, she definitely knows how to cure it.â âSo, you know her? If she made the poison, why would she suddenly refuse to help? I overheard Dylan offering two hundred million for her treatment!â Since Dylan was willing to spend that much money on her, Anne could tell just how important she was to Dylan. The truth didnât matter. Once she solidified her place as Dylanâs wife, even if he discovered she wasn't his true savior, his feelings for her would shield her from consequences. There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the person finally responded, âIsnât this exactly what you wanted? Youâll soon face the second wave of the poison. I hope all your wishes come true.â âThanks for the good wishes. Once Iâve secured Dylan, thereâll be plenty of rewards for you.â ⊠The quickest way to find out if Claude was behind the poisoning was to ask him directly. Even though it seemed unlikely, Suzy decided she needed to meet with him. After all, they hadnât seen each other in three years. So, the first thing she did upon returning to Hillside Villa was to ask Allen to look into Claudeâs whereabouts. Before she could finish eating an apple, Allen had the information ready. âClaudeâs on a business trip to Montara.â âBook a flight.â The next morning, Suzy boarded a plane bound for Montara. Allen wanted to accompany Suzy, but she refused, assigning him other tasks to handle. It had been three years since sheâd been on a plane, and as she gazed at the clouds outside the window, Suzy felt a sense of freedom, like a bird returning to the sky. For those three years, her life had revolved entirely around Dylan. In her attempt to be the perfect wife, she barely left the house and spent her days thinking about how to take better care of him. Every morning at five, she got up to make him breakfast. She hand-washed all his clothes, even his socks and underwear. While he was at work, she counted the minutes, waiting like a lovesick fool for his return. Looking back now, she couldnât believe she had lived like that for three years. What on earth had she been thinking? After landing, she went straight to Claudeâs hotel, only to be told, âMr. Claude checked out early this morning.â Suzy was speechless. She had planned on surprising him. Oh well, since she was already here, she might as well treat it like a vacation. Suzy spent the day shopping, buying plenty of things before catching her flight back home. She had to admit that being single has its perks! The farther away men were, the better. At the airport, Suzy spotted Allen waiting from a distance. âOver hereâŠâ Her smile froze instantly. Dylan? Surrounded by a crowd, Dylan was heading straight in her direction. Suzy quickly turned her back and thought, âAnother unlucky day.â It wasnât that she feared him; she just didnât want to see him. And she was pretty sure he didnât want to see her either. To avoid mutual disdain, Suzy slipped into the restroom. Dylan scanned the area, but there was no sign of Suzy. âAre you sure she was on this flight?â Desmond, sweating profusely, stammered, âIâve double-checked several times. Mrs. Wright was definitely on this flight from Montara.â Desmond could hardly contain his excitement when he first got the news. Suzyâs disappearance, Red Falconâs cancellation, and the woman who had infiltrated Anneâs hospital room only to escape under full lockdownâthose three women had pushed Dylan to the brink of an explosion. Thank goodness there was finally news about Suzy. Otherwise, if Dylan exploded, Desmond would be the first casualty. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Desmond said, "Iâve got people stationed at every exit. We should be able to find her soon." Half an hour later... Dylanâs voice turned icy. âWhere is she?â Desmond wished he could cut out his own tongue. Sometimes, it was best not to speak too soon! He couldnât understand how Suzy, an ordinary person, was so good at slipping away. âDesmond, your performance is really slipping. If this keeps up, I think it might be time to send you to South Allica for some additional training,â Dylan said coldly before walking off. It had been half an hour, and Suzy had probably already made her escape. The fact that she could disappear under these circumstances made it clear that he had seriously underestimated her abilities. Outside the airport, a line of sleek black cars was parked, with the leading one looking particularly impressive. Desmond jogged ahead, opening the door for Dylan, who was just about to step into the car when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something⊠In an instant, Dylan turned, took several swift strides, and grabbed the shoulder of a woman standing nearby. hapter 0006 When Dylan spun the woman around to face him, his expression darkened instantly, like a shadow passing over his features. From behind, she had looked strikingly similar to Suzy, but her front was a different story. Her appearance was plain, a far cry from Suzyâs striking beauty. The fact that heâd even momentarily considered Suzy attractive only made Dylan's scowl deepen. "Hey, handsome, your approach is pretty unique. I like it," the woman said with a playful smile, leaning toward him. "I live close by. How about we..." "Iâve got the wrong person," Dylan cut her off. As he stepped back, the woman nearly stumbled but wasnât discouraged. She moved closer again. "Donât be shy. Weâre both adults here. Whatâs there to hold back?" With a sharp glare, Dylan signaled to Desmond, who quickly stepped in to handle the situation. Once the two of them had driven off, Suzy slipped into Allenâs car, slowly peeling off the human-skin mask from her face. She had thought their encounter was a coincidence, but it turned out Dylan had deliberately come looking for her. But why? After all the commotion, what was he trying to achieve? She had already stepped aside. What more could he possibly want? Allen seemed equally puzzled. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and he couldnât help but ask, âBoss, I just found out... Dylan wasnât looking for Red Falcon. Heâs been trying to find his missing wifeâŠâ "Yeah, thatâs me," Suzy said calmly. There was no point in hiding it anymore. "...Youâre married?" Allen was visibly stunned. "Was. I got married, then divorced." "Was it because of Anne?" Allenâs tone was laced with frustration. The fact that Dylan was willing to spend two hundred million on Anne was a clear sign of their deep connection. Unable to hold back, Allen muttered a curse under his breath. "Like mother, like daughter. Sheâs just as rotten as her mom." Suzy immediately caught the significance of his words. "You and the Wheeler family..." "I have nothing to do with the Wheelers," Allen said sharply, gripping the steering wheel. It was a painful chapter of Allenâs life, one he had never shared with Suzy. He had always planned to take his revenge quietly, without burdening her with his past. After all, Suzy had her own scores to settle. Anneâs mother, Helena Fox, and his own were cousins. An unexpected tragedy left her an orphan, and his grandmother, moved by sympathy, took Helena in. Little did she know, she was nurturing a wolf in sheepâs clothing. On the surface, Helena seemed sweet and caring, but beneath that facade, she was as cold and calculating. When Allen was eight, he walked in on his father, William Wheeler, having an affair with Helena while his mother was away on a business trip â and in his mother's own bed, no less. Not long after, they drove his mother to her death and tried to burn him alive. He suffered severe burns across most of his body. If it hadnât been for Suzy saving him while he was trying to escape, he wouldnât even be alive today. She nursed him back to health, gave him a new face, and turned him into the person he was now â someone William wouldnât recognize, even if they stood face to face. Suzy could tell at a glance that Allen was lying. Since he didnât want to delve deeper into the subject, she didnât push him further. Everyone has their own secrets. She shifted the conversation. "Did you take care of what I asked before I left?" Allen opened the glove compartment and pulled out a blue folder. "The investigation confirms that thereâs never been any conflict between the Goodwin family and the Turner family, not now or three years ago. And there's no way the Goodwins could learn about your real identity." Suzy had once been the heiress of the Frosts, the wealthiest family. Years ago, a brutal assassination wiped out her entire family in a single night, from relatives to servantsâa total of thirty lives, all murdered. The murderers were beyond cruel. Everyone believed that no one from the Frost family survived, unaware that someone had risked their life to save Suzy. For years, she had kept her identity hidden. Apart from Allen, Raven Murray, and Riley White, no one else knew who she really was. And none of them would ever betray her. Suzy opened the folder, flipping through the pages. She found nothing out of the ordinary; everything seemed in order. Yet, three years ago, she distinctly remembered the kidnappers mentioning the Goodwin family. Closing the folder, she tossed it aside casually. "You can dodge the first blow, but not the second." "Yes, if the Goodwin family is really involved, no matter how powerful they are, theyâll pay the price in full," Allen said before asking, "What about Claude?" Suzy leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed. "He returned early. I didnât get a chance to see him." "So, are we heading to the Harlow family next?" "Weâll see." After all the running around, Suzy was feeling tired. Sheâd head home for some rest first. Besides, Anneâs second wave of poisoning was set for tonight. Suzy needed to be well-rested to fully enjoy what was about to unfold. ⊠That night, at the hospital. Anne had been unusually thirsty since dinner. She drank plenty of water, yet the discomfort only worsened. She knew it was timeâthe second wave of the poison was hitting. In a panic, she called Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, where are you? I feel so awful..." she moaned as soon as the line connected, not waiting for a response. But it wasnât Dylan who answeredâit was his sister, Diana Wright. "Feeling awful? Call a doctor. Whatâs the point of calling my brother?" Diana had always disliked Anne. "And this is my final warning. My brother is married. Whether itâs me or my grandmother, weâve both accepted his wife as family. Youâd better stay far away from him." Anne wasnât fond of Diana either. "Oh really? You probably donât know that theyâre divorced, do you? And it was Suzy who initiated it." "You're lying!" Diana snapped, not believing a word. "My sister-in-law loves my brother. Thereâs no way she would ever ask for a divorce." "If you don't believe me, go ask your brother. And by the way, your dear sister-in-law has run off with some random guy and hasnât been seen since!" "You witch! Say one more bad word about her, and I'll rip your mouth apart..." Diana was in the middle of her furious rant when the phone was snatched away by Dylan. She looked up. "Brother, that witch Anne just said that your wife wants a divorce!" Dylanâs face was cold. "Watch your manners." "My manners? I rather show some manners to a dog than her! Now tell meâis Suzy divorcing you or not?" "Thatâs none of your business," he said, his dark eyes narrowing. "What you should be focused on is your exam tomorrow." With that, he turned to leave. Diana chased after him. "How can it not concern me? She saved Grandmaâs life! If it werenât for her, weâd both be orphans by now. You canât be so heartless..." No matter what she said, Dylan kept walking without a word. Frustrated, Diana stomped her foot. "Iâm calling Grandma!" Dylan knew Diana would go straight to Grace to complain. He couldnât figure out what spell Suzy had cast over both his grandmother and his sister. They adored her to the point of obsession. The only reason he hadnât launched a full search for Suzy was to avoid alarming Grace, who was currently enjoying her vacation overseas. But now it seemed the secret was out. With that thought, he redialed Anneâs number to find out how she knew about the divorce. "Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan..." The moment the call connected, Anneâs pained voice came through. "Whatâs wrong?" Dylan asked. "I feel terrible, I really feel like Iâm dying. Please come and save me!" "Donât panic. Iâm on my way." Chapter 0007 At the hospital. The moment Dylan stepped through the door, Anne threw herself into his arms. She clung to him like a rag doll, trembling against him. "Dylan, I feel awful... I feel so terrible..." âWhere does it hurt?â Dylan tried to push her away, but instead of letting go, she only clung tighter. "Everywhere..." Anne moaned, placing his hand on her front. "Especially here, it feels like bugs crawling under my skinâitching, unbearable. Mr. Dylan, please help me!" Her behavior was clearly not normal. âIâll call the doctor.â âNo, I donât want a doctor. I want you.â Anne clung to him like a vine, her hands restlessly undoing his shirt buttons. âPlease, Mr. Dylan, help me, I feel like Iâm dying. If you donât help me, I really will die...â As her fingers worked to undo the buttons, Dylan grabbed her wrists. âAnne, calm down...â âI canât calm down...â She leaned in, trying to kiss him, whispering his name over and over, âMr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan...â Just as she was about to succeed, Dylan forcefully pushed her away, sending her sprawling to the floor. His resistance spoke volumes, even if he hadnât said a word. A flicker of coldness flashed in Anneâs eyes, but when she looked up again, only sadness remained. âMr. Dylan, do you hate me?â Dylan didnât respond, nor did he help her up. Instead, he turned away. âIâm calling a doctor.â Anne wasnât about to let him leave. She scrambled to her feet and wrapped herself around him from behind. âI told you, I donât want a doctor. I want you! Please, Mr. Dylan, take me...â âAnne, something is clearly wrong with you,â Dylan said, his lips pressed into a thin line. âYou need to see a doctor.â âNo doctor can help me. Only you can save me.â As she spoke, Anne began stripping off her own clothes. âPlease, save me. Iâm begging you.â Just when Anne thought she had succeeded, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head, and everything went black as she crumpled to the floor. Watching Anne fall unconscious, Suzy, who had been hiding in the wardrobe, retracted the silver needle that she had prepared to throw. It wasnât about helping Dylanâit was simply that she couldnât bear to watch the scene unfold. It was the kind of thing that could make her eyes bleed. What she didnât expect was that Dylan would actually... Anne was supposed to be the woman he loved most. Suzy couldnât quite understand why he knocked her out. Dylan scooped Anne up in his arms and laid her back on the hospital bed before pressing the call button for the doctor. When the doctor arrived, Dylan briefly explained what had just happened. âIs this related to the poison in her system?â After a quick examination, the doctor nodded. âYes, youâre right. The poison in Miss Anneâs body is highly unusual. The last time the poison flared up, nothing like this happened. Now, itâs suddenly escalated, and who knows what could happen next. We need to detox her as soon as possible.â Dylan frowned and thought about what the doctor said. There had been no word from Red Falcon. Forget about tracking her downâshe hadnât even answered a single phone call. Desmond had been trying for days, but every attempt had gone unanswered. Detoxing Anne was proving to be no simple task. For the first time, he found himself played by a woman who had him in the palm of her hand. With his jaw tight, Dylan commanded, âFor now, find a way to alleviate her symptoms.â âThatâs going to be difficult...â the doctor began. âThis poison is something Iâve never encountered before, and I know nothing about it. Iâm concerned that if we administer the wrong medication, it could worsen her condition instead of easing it. So...â The doctor pressed his lips together before continuing, âAt this point, the safest way to relieve her symptoms might be for you, Mr. Wright, to help Miss Anne personally.â âAbsolutely not!â Dylan didnât hesitate. âIf it comes to that, weâll use sedatives.â âBut that might not be safe eitherâŠâ âAt least that way, sheâll maintain her dignity,â Dylan muttered, his voice low as he looked at Anne lying unconscious. âI canât let her lose her honor.â So, it wasnât that he wouldnât touch herâhe just didnât want her to be ridiculed. Suzyâs mind flashed back to a day when she had gone to his office to deliver some documents he had left behind at home. His employees had mistaken her for the maid, and from start to finish, he hadnât said a single word to correct them. They had been married for three years, and not once had he shown her the respect a wife deserved. Yet, when it came to Anne, he shielded her at every turn... Suzy didnât want to compare, but moments like this always brought it to the surface, no matter how hard she tried. Why was she even watching this pathetic drama? She really should find a way to slip out of here. And as luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself. The doctor left, and moments later, Dylanâs phone rang. Probably to avoid waking Anne, he stepped out of the room with his phone. Seizing her chance, Suzy quietly slipped out of the wardrobe. But just as she thought sheâd made her escape, Dylan walked back in. Their eyes locked. The air between them went dead silent. Suzy reacted quickly, darting toward the balcony. Dylan was just as fast, his long strides closing the distance. Just as she was about to leap off the balcony, his hand caught her shoulder, yanking her back. "Speak. Who sent you?" Suzy let out a cold laugh. "The hospital is a public place. Iâm allowed to come and go as I please. Do I need your permission now?" She wasnât worried at all about Dylan recognizing her voice. Before going out, she always used a voice-altering agentânot to hide from him specifically, but out of long-standing habit. Keeping her true identity hidden was a necessity. Though she hadnât gone so far as to disguise herself today, just a simple mask, there was no way Dylan would figure it out. She wouldnât give him the chance. "So, you think you can just come and go as you please, huh..." Dylan's grip on her shoulder tightened, his voice growing colder. "Since you're here, why don't you stay for a while?" "The windâs pretty strong tonightâcareful you donât bite your tongue!" Suzy swiftly dodged his grip, twisting out of his hold, and in one fluid motion, threw a sharp punch directly at him. But Dylan wasnât easy prey either, effortlessly dodging her attack. The two were locked in a fierce exchange, trading blow after blow, kick after kick. After dozens of moves, neither had the upper hand. Dylan chuckled, "Not bad." Suzy smirked. "You're not too shabby yourself, Mr. Wright." But then, his eyes flashed dangerously, and he switched tactics, aiming a series of strikes at her abdomen. Realizing his intent, Suzy shifted her defenses to protect her midsection, but in an unexpected move, Dylan suddenly diverted his hand, reaching for her mask instead. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut | 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 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&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/t39.35426-6/463457255_1100163098194107_747618574130675275_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Nwwu2WseqT4Q7kNvgEBfZ1M&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYAjN8Hr4kHpIPEsb4HdynZXVHq-Lh7Pmj7bN54tXvIo9Q&oe=674D82EF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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2 in 1 Physical and Chemical Sunscreen Combo SPF50+ | đ Ready for superior sun protection on the go? đĄïž Meet Peptide 9 Bio Sun Stick â SPF 50+ and 9 Peptide Complex for youthful skin. đȘ Combines physical and chemical sunscreens for unbeatable UV defense. đ Water-resistant, sweat-resistant, and perfect for outdoor adventures. đ Non-greasy, non-sticky â enjoy smooth, comfortable skin without the white cast. đClick Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight! | SHOP_NOW | https://norvure.com/products/peptide-9-2-in-1-phys | HeartlyLove | https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/ | 748 | 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/peptide-9-2-in-1-physical-and-chemical-sunscreen-combo-spf50-2-pack | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448252855_276753262130514_2642492807444440859_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Qdwa_udr8CIQ7kNvgHJgw1V&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1_T-0LSJZ7YQeLPL9Qxz2A&oh=00_AYBwN0q7lglPfYqFwXx6YQJ4mtw_gHxdeoN9idINSPsEQg&oe=674D8709 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | HeartlyLove | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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He drunkenly hugged her âCall me husband again ......â | đNyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? OrâŠ' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didnât know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so letâs not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." ⊠It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clockâ3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nylaâs phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwinedâtheir heavy breathing filling the roomâpierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. ⊠By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine hereâ" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clarkâs journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clarkâs name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nylaâs red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once youâre calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clarkâs betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nylaâs reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." ⊠After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damonâs hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Letâ Mmph! Let me goâŠ" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nylaâs senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didnât feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me goâŠ" Nylaâs voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldnât believe itâthe man who almost violated her was Clarkâs uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle DamonâŠ" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistakeâit wasnât Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husbandâs uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephewâs wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. ⊠When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didnât you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didnât love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, Iâm sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Donât touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, Iâve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But Iâve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why canât you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, youâre the only one I love⊠It was just an accident with herâŠ" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So youâre saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, Iâll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clarkâs expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, Iâve made up my mind. Iâm divorcing you. You donât deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. ⊠Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damonâs hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didnât notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Donât touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didnât you always want a child? Letâs have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it wonât be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didnât care. "It doesnât matter how many times I say it. Iâm disgusted by you. Iâd rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nylaâs struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. ⊠For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. ⊠The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clarkâs expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clarkâs arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true selfâselfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next monthâ" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Letâs go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasnât on his side todayâthey met at the door. He didnât notice Nylaâs stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nylaâs gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I donât like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I donât like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. Weâll deal with this later." "If you donât want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didnât want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the companyâs shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, youâre here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you donât bring a girlfriend next time, donât bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damonâs gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasnât the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe Iâll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "Youâre too picky! Iâve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, donât ruin it." "Then youâll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, âYouâre going to drive me crazy!â Damon glanced at Clark. âClark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why donât you encourage him to have kids?â Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldnât listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. âNyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?â Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clarkâs aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, youâll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldnât dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldnât happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldnât pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, weâll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight yearsâthe best years of her life, from 18 to 26âloving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar | LEARN_MORE | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692& | 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 | findedc.com | DCO | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&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/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4k9HMpIGaF8Q7kNvgGnFvTV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgN7mxsrt16m_YsxbLZmI58&oh=00_AYCY2vgQw3OwmbCA_b6xO-z5_wyLH_m3yQzcUYQzVv5dIQ&oe=674D8D3D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | After a tragic accident left Emily Yates without her memories, she fell in love with her savior, Justin Yates, unaware that he was hiding the truth and using her as a stand-in for his first love. For three long years, Emily poured everything into the relationship, hoping he would love her back. But on the day Justin proposed, he held his "one true love" in his arms and left Emily stranded on a foreign street, still expecting her to remain his secret mistress. * âDidnât I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?â Justinâs voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. âYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youâre holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youâre not even coming home? Staying out all night?â âStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,â he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Emily wasnât leaving without answers. âYou think Iâm being unreasonable? Iâm your fiancĂ©e. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? âIâll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youâre coming home with me.â Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinâs arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinâs personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. âWhat do you mean by this?â Emilyâs voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnât respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancĂ©e he had just proposed to. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. âDonât be childish.â Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? âIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!â | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 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=15056&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/t39.35426-6/464524242_869324355322502_5461206031477697920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=rzbmGccja5cQ7kNvgEaQyVN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AHsWsNnJTuJhI2qvQ8J-O0X&oh=00_AYCKPoioZdO8jtMtI1Y5lseH19k-UaSYHGWCwn-dDIffnA&oe=674D88EA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | Chapter 0001 "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,â a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,â a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan..." "Beep beep beep..." Undeterred, Suzy tried calling again. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable.â The doctor, no longer able to stand by in silence, spoke gently, "Miss Frost, your condition is very serious. If you have any other family members present, they're also authorized to sign on your behalf.â What other family did she have? In this world, he was the only one who could sign the consent form. No matter how much it hurt, Suzy fought back the tears that streamed down her pale cheeks and asked the doctor with a faint smile, "Can I sign for myself?" "...Yes!" With her last ounce of strength, Suzy signed the consent form for the surgery. The operation lasted four hours and was finally over, but her condition worsened two hours post-surgery, and Suzy was moved to the ICU. For 24 hours, Suzy lay in a coma, unable to open her eyes, but her mind was alert, and she could hear the nurses discussing as they changed her bandages. "Even if the marriage is struggling, a husband can't just ignore his seriously injured wife! You wouldn't believe itâI called him several more times, but it just kept going to voicemail. Doesn't he care even a little?" lamented the nurse. "Here's some juicy gossip for youâthe CEO of Wright Corporation, Dylan Wright, who's rumored to be disinterested in women and hasn't married even at thirty, actually has a girlfriend, and she's hospitalized right here in our hospital. Heâs taking care of her around the clock in the VVIP ward on the top floor." "Itâs strange how different men can beâone boyfriend is incredibly devoted, and another is worse than an animal!" Little did she know, Dylan was so close, merely an inquiry away from knowing that Suzy hadn't lied to him. Yet, he refused to waste a moment on her, simply because... she wasn't worth it! Her eyes, tightly shut, suddenly flew open, startling the nurse who was wiping her face. "You're awake!" Once awake, Suzy was immediately given a thorough check-up and, finding no serious injuries, was moved to a regular room. That night, deep in the silence, despite still being confined to her bed, Suzy removed her oxygen mask and dragged her injured left leg, wounded in the explosion, to the top floor. Outside the hospital room, through the glass, Suzy watched as Dylan tenderly fed Anne Wheeler fruits by her bedside. Her fists tightened, but the anguish in her chest, like a swarm of needles pricking at her heart, didnât ease in the slightest. Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! The intimate scene in the hospital room turned Suzy's eyes, once filled with love, utterly cold. "It's time to end this!" The moment Suzy turned to leave, Dylan felt something stir and whirled around, just as Anne let out a pained cry. Dylan quickly asked, "What's wrong?" Anne glanced at the door and then gave Dylan a weak smile. "I accidentally pulled at my wound." "Do you need a doctor?" "I'm not that frail," Anne replied teasingly. "But Mr. Dylan, you should head back. You've been with me day and night; Suzy must be upset again..." She paused, "Mr. Dylan, honestly, Suzy isn't wrong. No matter what our relationship was in the past, you are now her husband. No woman could tolerate her husband being so kind to another woman, so whatever she does is understandable. Don't be angry with her, otherwise, Madam Grace might hear of it..." Dylan cut her off, "It's getting late, you should sleep." "Mr. Dylan..." "Listen to me!" "Alright then." As Anne closed her eyes, Dylan glanced once more towards the door. Was it really... He remembered the weak voice on the phone that day. His lips tightened, and he stood up. Just as he moved, Anne grabbed his hand. "Mr. Dylan, my wound still hurts a bit. Could you blow on it for me?" A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes before Dylan finally replied in a deep voice, "Alright." ⊠Suzy didn't return to her room but left the hospital directly. A taxi took her back to the villa where she had lived with Dylan for three years. As she walked inside from the front gate, memories of the past three years with Dylan flooded back like a tidal wave. It had been a blend of sour, bitter, and spicy moments in their life together, but sweetness was conspicuously absent. Dylan had always believed that Suzy married him as part of a calculated scheme. In truth, he wasn't entirely wrong; Suzy had indeed manipulated events to marry him, but her motives were never what he assumedâshe wasn't after his wealth or status; she was after the man himself. She had hoped that time would prove her true intentions, but three years had only intensified his disdain for her. She could never forget his cruel words, "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan, you might not realize it, but I've actually been living in desperation all along. These past three years, I tried to climb out, to be normal, to be by your side, but you clearly didn't care. Since that's the case, I'll grant your wish." Taking what she needed and discarding what she didn't, Suzy left behind only the signed divorce papers and the keys to the villa. She walked away without a trace of longing, leaving nothing behind. Chapter 0002 The next morning, after spending yet another night at the hospital because Anne's pain had kept her from letting him leave, Dylan was finally on his way to the office. As they approached an intersection, he suddenly instructed the driver, "Take me to Bayview Heights." He had been wearing the same clothes for two days and needed a change. Otherwise, he wasnât too keen on returning to that place. Upon arriving at the villa, instead of the warm welcome he might have expected, he was met with an eerie silence and a chilling sight on the living room tableâa divorce agreement! Dylanâs gaze lingered on the signed divorce papers and the keys resting on top. With an unreadable expression, he paused for a moment before turning and heading upstairs. This was his first time entering Suzy's room. They usually lived separate lives, like oil and water, never mixing. The room was as clean and orderly as he expected. Over the past three years, she had personally taken care of his every need. It was hard to deny that in some ways, she had been a competent wife... Realizing his thoughts, Dylanâs brows furrowed, and he stepped forward to open her wardrobe. Clothes and jewelry, everything related to the Wright family were still there. Just as she had written in the divorce papers, she had left without taking anything, leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back. So, her cries of impending death that day, were they all just an act? He sneered. âSuzy, Iâm curious to see what game youâre playing this time.â His phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket and seeing the caller ID, a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyesâa feeling he might not have even noticed himself. âWhat is it?â On the other end, his assistant sounded particularly anxious, âSir, Miss Wheeler has had an accident!â His brow tightened immediately. âIâm on my way!â At the hospital, although bodyguards were posted at the entrance and surveillance revealed no suspicious individuals, Anne had somehow been poisoned and was in critical condition. Anne's primary doctor speculated, âMr. Wright, itâs highly likely that Miss Wheeler was poisoned before she even arrived at the hospitalâŠâ Anne cut off the doctor before he could finish, "Mr. Dylan, please don't blame Suzy. She was just trying to protect her marriage! If I had listened to her and left you as she suggested, none of this would have happened. So, this is all my own fault..." "At a time like this, you should be worried about yourself, not that ruthless woman," Dylan replied sharply. His eyes hardened as he pulled out his phone to call Suzy. "I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable..." The fury in his eyes could have swallowed someone whole. He coldly ordered his assistant, who was standing by, "Search the entire city for Suzy!" Meanwhile, at Hillside Villa. "Ah-choo..." As soon as Suzy entered, she sneezed, causing Allen Wheeler, who followed her in, to become instantly anxious. "Boss, did you catch a cold?" Sniffling slightly, Suzy sneezed again. "It's nothing." "You've sneezed twice; you definitely have a cold!" Allen set down Suzy's luggage and hurried to the kitchen. "I need to make you some ginger tea right away." Watching Allenâs worried and hurried back, Suzy thought of Dylanâs cold words, "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" People who cared about her would worry over something as small as a sneeze. Those who didnât wouldnât have flinched even if they saw her hangingâtheyâd think she was just swinging. Three years ago, she had done everything to marry Dylan, to repay a perceived debt, she had toned down her personality, and humbled herself to the dust, working tirelessly. Thinking back, she realized she must have been out of her mind. Even if he had saved her three years ago, it was her first time, and he really wasnât at a loss. The notion that she owed him anything was utterly absurd. Pushing down the pain in her heart, Suzy stopped Allen at the kitchen door. "Forget the ginger tea. However, the Goodwin family in North Avenue could use your help as a facilitator." "The Goodwin family?" Suzyâs eyes narrowed slightly. "The murderer who murdered my parents, and my own attacker three years ago, might both be connected to the Goodwin family." Upon hearing this, Allenâs eyebrows furrowed deeply. "The Goodwins are influential in politics, and it seems the player behind the scenes is bigger than we imagined. Martin Goodwin, the head of the Goodwin family, has been ill lately, searching for a renowned doctor. Iâll pass on the news that you are the miracle doctor to them soon." Ten minutes later, Allen told Suzy, "Boss, the Goodwin family needs you urgently; they want you to come as soon as possible, but your injuries..." In fact, the moment Allen saw Suzy, he wanted to ask about her injuries and where she had been these past three years. Since she was alive, why hadnât she contacted them? But she never mentioned it, and knowing her temperament, he didnât dare pry. Suzy knew Allen was worried about her, but she didnât want to bring up anything related to Dylan with anyone. It was all over, and she would never contact him in the future; there was simply no need to let them know. Yet, saying nothing would certainly not ease his concerns. After a moment, she explained to Allen, "I took care of a dog for three years, but it never grew tame; it bit me instead." Allenâs anger flared immediately. "Where is that beast? I'll knock his teeth out." No one could harm his boss and get away with it! "Heâs dead!" Dead in her heart. "Tell the Goodwin family that Iâll be there two days from now, four in the afternoon!" Two days passed in a blink. At Wright Corporation, in the CEO's office. Dylan looked up as his assistant, Desmond Hill, entered. "Didnât find her?" âThere isnât a doctor who knows how to treat the poisoning,â Desmond said hesitantly, then added, âAs for Mrs. Wright, sheâs an orphan with no family. Everything sheâs done over the past three years has been connected to you, and nothing suspicious has come up⊠so we havenât been able to locate her either.â "It had been two days..." Was she intentionally hiding, or could she have... Realizing he was actually worried about her, Dylan's brows knitted together. "Intensify the search!" "Yes!" Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan gazed into the distance, his eyes flickering with a complexity even he hadnât noticed. "Suzy, you better pray you can hide forever.â "Sir..." Desmond, who had left just a minute earlier, hurried back in without even knocking, breathless with urgency. "Look at this!" Dylan, thinking there might be news of Suzy, took the phone and saw... "Red Falcon?" "A miracle doctor in the alternative medicine world!" Desmond exclaimed, excitedly. "Sheâs renowned for curing all kinds of poisons and diseases. People call her 'The Healer of Legends,' known for treating even the most severe injuries. She disappeared three years ago, and everyone thought she was gone for good, but now sheâs reappeared. âI've just received reliable information that today at four in the afternoon, she'll be visiting the Goodwin family in North Avenue to treat Mr. Martin. Sir, perhaps Miss Wheeler could try her treatment?" "The Goodwin family at North Avenue.." The fact that the Goodwins had called upon her was proof enough of her skill. "Go invite her!" After a pause, Dylan stopped Desmond at the door. "I'll go myself." Chapter 0003 North Avenue was an hour and a half drive from South Avenue. Suzy arrived at the Goodwin familyâs estate as promised in disguise. Using the pretense of treating an illness, she took the opportunity to hypnotize Martin. Unfortunately, she didnât manage to extract any useful information. As she left, deep in thought, a sudden pain shot through her forehead as she bumped into someone... âSorryâŠâ The apology got stuck in her throat the moment she recognized the face. Dylan? What was he doing here? It was truly a case of enemies crossing paths in the most unexpected of places! In less than two seconds, Suzy tore her gaze away and walked off, her expression completely indifferent. Dylan stood there, confused. She was about to apologize to him, so why did her attitude change the moment she saw him? Especially how she suddenly looked at himâit was as if they were mortal enemies. Dylan turned, watching the direction she went, his eyes narrowing. That figure looked just like Suzy⊠âMr. Wright, weâre so honored by your presence. Iâm sorry for not greeting you properlyâŠâ The voice of the Goodwin familyâs butler snapped Dylan out of his thoughts. By the time he glanced back, the woman had disappeared. Following the butler to see Martin, Dylan found the old man looking healthy, his complexion rosy, as if fully recovered from his illness. Dylan wasted no time and stated his reason for coming. But the reply was unexpected: the miracle doctor had just left, barely moments ago. Dylan was speechless. The woman he had run into earlier, the one with freckles all over her faceâwas she the miracle doctor? Knowing it was already too late to chase after her, Dylan quickly bid farewell to Martin. To his surprise, the woman hadnât left yet. Seeing her car just start to pull away, Dylan hurried over, âWait a secâ" But his words were drowned out by the roar of the engine. Now he was almost certainâthis woman had something against him. He quickly got into his car and chased after her. As soon as Suzy saw the black luxurious car speeding after her in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. Did he recognize her? She wasnât bragging, but her disguise was so flawless that not even her parents, if they were alive, would be able to recognize her. And Dylan? After three years of marriage, he had barely ever looked at her properly. So why was he chasing her so relentlessly? Just because she hadnât apologized earlier? With a cold smirk tugging at her lips, Suzy floored the gas pedal. "You owe me a lot more than I owe you!" The red car shot forward like a bolt of lightning. "Interesting." Dylanâs eyes narrowed as he accelerated. The red car and the black one sped through the winding mountain roads, like two fierce predators locked in a relentless chase. At first, Dylan was confident in his driving skillsâhe was a man, after all. How could he not catch up to a woman? But in the final stretch, the woman suddenly did a sharp U-turn and drove straight toward him. He quickly jerked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding a collision. However, the speed was too fast, and his car skidded into the mountainside. Though he wasnât hurt, his car stalled out. Through the windshield, his eyes met hers. She flashed him a playful smile, then gave him a thumbs-down, taunting him with a level of arrogance that sent his blood boiling. Moments later, she reversed her car with impressive speed, leaving him in the dust. "Red FalconâŠ" She wasnât just a miracle doctor; she was also an ace racer. Although she wasnât good-looking, her talents were undeniable. But why did she harbor such animosity toward him? Back at the office, the first thing Dylan did was instruct Desmond, "Dig into everything you can find on Red Falconâleave no detail out." He had to find out what heâd done to make her so mad at him. Half an hour later, Desmond returned with a defeated expression. "Sir, all the information on Red Falcon is locked behind a heavily encrypted firewall. Weâve switched through several tech experts, but none of them have been able to break in." "...Send me the link." ⊠"Boss, someoneâs digging into your files!" Allen handed his laptop to Suzy, who was lounging on the couch watching a show. "It started about half an hour ago. Theyâve cycled through a few people, and the latest one is pretty skilled. Iâm having a hard time keeping them at bay." "Is that so?" Suzy's eyes narrowed, and she sat up. "Let me handle this." Her fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of code flashing rapidly on the screen. Within minutes, she closed the laptop and tossed it back onto the couch, stretching lazily. "Letâs go grab something to eat." Meanwhile, back at his desk, Dylan stared at the screen in disbelief as the code on his computer spelled out one wordâ LOSER! He nearly smashed the computer in frustration. Watching the taunting word flash on the screen and feeling the stormy tension building around Dylan, Desmond didnât dare breathe too loudly. Their bossâ hacking skills were top-tier, not just in South Avenue but globally, so how could this happen? Noticing Dylanâs darkening expression, Desmond hesitated for a moment before offering a timid suggestion. "Sir, they probably donât know itâs you, so Iâm sure they didnât mean it personally..." "Get out!" "Yes, sir!" "Wait." Dylan stopped Desmond as he was about to leave. "Use the contact information the Goodwins provided. Offer her ten million for the treatment." The main goal was to get her to cure Anneâs poisoningâeverything else was secondary. A shadow flickered in Dylanâs eyes as he quickly formulated his next move. ⊠Just as the food was being placed on the table, Allenâs phone rang. It was from an unfamiliar number. He glanced across the table at Suzy, who nodded, signaling him to answer. He pressed the speakerphone button as he picked up. "Is this the miracle doctor, Red Falcon?" It was Desmond! Suzyâs hand froze mid-motion as she was about to pick up her fork. Was Dylan really that determined to get an apology from her? Naturally, Dylan, who had never tasted defeat, couldnât swallow his pride after being repeatedly taunted by her. Not wanting to get further entangled with him, Suzy motioned for Allen to hang up. "Iâm sorry, youâve got the wrong person." Just as Allen was about to end the call, Desmond quickly interjected, "Wait, please! I have a patient who desperately needs the miracle doctorâs help. Weâre willing to offer ten million as payment for the treatment!" Suzy paused, her expression unreadable. So that was the real reason behind Dylanâs relentless pursuit? Their encounter at the Goodwin family estate hadnât been a coincidence after all? For Dylan to personally reach out and offer such a high fee... Concerned that it might involve Grace Lawson, Dylanâs grandmother, who had always been kind to her, Suzy used lip movements to instruct Allen to ask for more details. Allen asked, "Can you provide some basic information about the patient? You can send it to my phone." Hearing some progress, Desmond eagerly replied, "Of course, Iâll send it right away." As soon as the call ended, Desmond sent over all the relevant details. The moment Suzy saw that the patient was Anne, she casually tossed the phone back to Allen. "Tell them I donât treat for money. I believe in destiny, and this patient is not fated to meet me.â Allen blinked in confusion and thought, "Since when do you have such rules?" Though Allen sensed something off about Suzyâs expression, he didnât ask any questions. Instead, he simply relayed her message to Desmond. Upon receiving the response, Desmond immediately reported Suzyâs message to Dylan. Dylanâs eyes narrowed slightly. "Add another ten million!" He couldn't believe she'd turn down that much money. Suzy sneered. "Twenty million?" A twisted urge suddenly gripped herâshe wanted to test just how much Dylan truly valued Anne. Her eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell them Iâll make a house call for two hundred million. Not a penny less." Chapter 0004 "Two hundred million?" Dylan barely hesitated. "Deal!" Three years ago, after being drugged during an ambush, a girl saved his life despite being seriously injured herself. After a night together, the girl disappeared by morning. It had been too dark that night to see her face clearly, but he vaguely remembered a faint, distinctive scent on her, like some kind of herbal remedy. After investigating, he traced it back to the Wheeler family. Anne had been frail and sickly since childhood and had relied on natural remedies for years. According to her, on the day he was attacked, she was kidnapped and managed to escape. Along the way, she encountered him. Ignoring her own safety, she dragged her wounded body and gave herself to him to save his life. At the time, she was only eighteen. Anne saved his life, and he promised her marriage. Even though his grandmother, Grace, disapproved, he vowed never to marry anyone else. Yet out of nowhere, Suzy showed up. She orchestrated a heroic act, earning Graceâs favor, and step by step, manipulated Grace into forcing him to marry her. With her goal achieved, Suzy saw Anne as a thorn in her side, constantly picking fights. Lately, things had escalated â first, a kidnapping, and now poisoning... Two hundred million, or even more â as long as someone was willing to help save Anne, heâd pay any price. He owed Anne too much. ⊠Meanwhile, Allen immediately informed Suzy after receiving a response. "Boss, they've agreed." He agreed⊠It was impossible not to feel something. After all, she had loved Dylan for so many years. She couldnât help but wonder, if it were her who was poisoned, would he do the same? No, he wouldnât! Heâd wish for her death as soon as possible. That way, no one would stand in the way of him and Anne ever again. Suzy clenched her fists, suppressing the aching pain in her heart. "Deal!" It was two hundred million â since he was foolish and rich, why shouldnât she take advantage of it? But... Who exactly poisoned Anne? What was the motive? And as for the previous kidnapping, after investigating all this while, there was still no answer. There must be a connection somewhere. It seemed a visit to the hospital tonight was necessary, to first determine the exact poison in Anne's system before following the clues. That night, when all was quiet, Suzy, dressed in a nurse uniform prepared by Allen, sneaked into Anneâs hospital room. The girl on the bed had a ghostly pale face and weak breathing. Dylan would probably be heartbroken seeing her like this. It was said that Anne had once saved Dylan, which was why he held her dear. In fact, they were quite similar; Suzy also fell in love with Dylan on the night he saved her. A self-mocking smile curled her lips. Suzy had schemed to marry him, thinking he was single. After all, rumors had it that he was indifferent to women and devoted only to his work, to the extent that his grandmother who raised him suspected he was gay! It was only after marriage that Suzy found out he had a girl he liked; it was just that Grace did not approve of Anne, so she never mentioned Anne in front of Suzy. Three years ago, while Suzy thought she was using Grace, wasnât Grace actually using her too? Remembering that shrewd old lady, Suzy chuckled softly. "Age certainly does sharpen the wit!" Not wanting to waste more time, Suzy reached out to check Anneâs condition. Her brows furrowed instantly; her condition appeared to be⊠Indeed it was! Her expression suddenly changed. Suzy pulled out a syringe from her pocket, aimed the needle at a vein in Anne's left arm, and was about to insert it when her hand was suddenly grabbed. Using all her strength, Anne clutched the intruder's wrist. "Who sent you?" The medical staff in and out of this hospital room were carefully selected, and Anne knew each one well. The moment she saw the person in front of her, she knew something was off. Unimpressed by Anneâs awakening, Suzy shook off her hand and continued her previous action. As the sharp needle tip was about to pierce into her arm, Anne suddenly pushed Suzy and quickly sat up from the bed, reaching for the call button by the bedside. However, before she could touch it, her arm was pinned against the wall. Though most of the intruder's face was hidden by a mask, the chilling glare from her eyes was like a sword laced with murderous intent. Anne became even more panicked. âI am Dylanâs most beloved woman. If you dare hurt me, he will never forgive youâŠâ âSlap!â After slapping Anne, Suzy grabbed her chin. "If you donât want to die, keep quiet!" Her face stung from the slap, and her jaw felt like it was about to be crushed. However, from the intruder's words, it seemed she wasnât here to murder her. Anneâs fear slightly subsided, and she stopped struggling. Seeing her finally quiet down, Suzy released her chin. After drawing the blood with the needle and finishing her task, Suzy removed the needle and left, not caring about the still bleeding puncture site. Having suffered such a grievance, Anne was not about to let it go. She quickly pressed the call button, âSomeone is trying to murderâŠâ Before she could finish, her throat was grabbed. The woman's speed was alarmingly fast, shocking Anne. âI didnât want to murder youâŠâ Suzyâs fingers tightened inch by inch around her neck. âBut since you seem tired of living, Iâll grant your wish!â This wasnât just a threat; Suzy genuinely intended to murder Anne. Indeed, Anne was no saint; she was quite skilled in manipulating situations. Over the past three years, she had framed others multiple times. Suzy had been patient only because Anne was Dylanâs favorite. Now... She didnât care about who he loved. Furthermore, Anne owed Suzy that much. If it hadnât been for her protection, Anne wouldnât have survived long enough for Dylan to rescue her from the kidnappers. Seeing Anne's face turn red with difficulty breathing and veins popping on her forehead, the murderous intent in Suzy's eyes deepened. Just a bit more pressure and Anneâs life would be over! Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. They were distant, inaudible to most, but Suzy, with her exceptional hearing, could hear them clearly. It was Dylan! She felt a bit disgusted by how familiar she was with his steps. As the footsteps grew closer, Suzyâs gaze hardened, and with a swift motion, she knocked Anne unconscious with a sharp blow to the neck. After all, Anne was worth two hundred millionâthere was no reason to turn down that kind of money. Shifting her gaze slightly, Suzy quickly opened the door to the balcony and then slipped into the bathroom. The next second, the door was pushed open. Dylan entered, his eyes falling on the open sliding door to the balcony. His brows furrowed as he instructed Desmond, who followed behind him. "Close the door..." His words were cut off by a startled cry. "Ah..." Anne, who had thought she was doomed, suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling, gasping for air in terror. "Did I wake you? I've been too busy these last few days to visit. How are you feeling?" Dylan walked to the bedside, noticing her distressed expression. "Did you have a nightmare?" Turning and seeing Dylan, Anne immediately threw herself into his arms, showing him the marks on her neck and the needle mark on her arm, "Mr. Dylan, just now, a woman disguised as a nurse drew my blood and then tried to strangle me." Chapter 0005 Dylanâs eyes shifted back to the balcony, giving Desmond a subtle look. Desmond searched the area and reported, âSir, thereâs no one here.â âCall the doctor.â Dylanâs gaze turned cold. "And tell the hospital to lock down all exits. Not a soul steps foot inside or out without my explicit authorization." âYes, sir!â After the doctorâs examination confirmed that only blood had been drawn and nothing else had been done to her, Anne finally let out a sigh of relief. The attackerâs identity was still a mystery, and with her current vulnerable condition, it was hard not to feel afraid. But what puzzled her was why someone would go through so much effort just to draw her blood. However... With a shift in her gaze, Anneâs eyes welled up with tears. "Mr. Dylan, thereâs something Iâve hesitated to say, but sheâs really gone too far this time." It was a perfect opportunity to throw dirt on Suzyâs name, and Anne couldnât let it slip by. Gripping his hand, her tears flowed even harder. "Iâm already half-dead from the poisonâwhy wonât she leave me alone? Does she think Iâm not dying fast enough, so she sends someone in the middle of the night to drain my blood?" Dylan's expression darkened, but he didnât respond directly. He simply said, "Weâve already found someone who can cure you with an antidote.â Anneâs eyes flashed briefly with surprise, though she quickly masked it. "But... I was told that this poison has no cure.â âThereâs always someone better who can treat you. Weâve arranged everything with a miracle doctor named Red Falcon, who will help detoxify you. Youâll be cured soon.â âRed Falcon?â Anne questioned, trying to hide her unease. âIs she really that skilled?â âYes, Mr. Martin from the North Avenue had a terminal illness, and thanks to her treatment, he made a full recovery.â Dylanâs voice softened. âDonât worry, Iâll handle everything.â For Anne, it was always âIâll handle everythingâŠâ For Suzy, it was always âThis doesnât concern meâŠâ Listening from her hiding spot in the bathroom, Suzy had convinced herself she'd be numb to Dylan's tenderness toward Anne. Yet, as his gentle tone drifted through the door, she felt an unexpected pang. Despite everything, it still stung. Tired of eavesdropping, Suzy silently opened the window and leaped out. Like a bat in the night, she vanished without a traceâso swiftly, no one would ever know. At the hospital entrance. Growing anxious from waiting, Allen was just about to go in and help when he finally spotted Suzy emerging. He hurried out of the car and rushed over, giving her a quick once-over. âBoss, are you okay?â âIâm fine.â Suzy kept walking without stopping. âStop worrying about nothing.â However, Allen sensed something was off. Logically, with the kind of influence Suzy had, Allen knew he shouldnât be worried. But the ambush three years ago had left him deeply scarred. He could never forget the moment he saw her fall off that cliff with his own eyes. For three years, Allen had hated himself for not protecting Suzy, failing in his duty as her subordinate. So, when Suzy called to inform him she was still alive, Allen swore that, this time, he would give up his life if necessary to keep her from getting hurt again. He wanted to handle this mission for her, but she wouldnât allow it. From the rearview mirror, Allen glanced at Suzy, who had been silent since getting into the car. He couldnât shake the feeling that there was something complicated between her and Anne. Allen realized he needed to find someone to discreetly investigate the matter. His gaze hadnât fully returned to the road when Suzy caught him staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly. âBoss, did you find out what kind of poison it was?â Suzy paused briefly. âItâs Scarlet Veil.â âScreechâŠâ The brakes squealed as Allen slammed on them in shock. âScarlet Veil? But that was your masterpiece! Didnât you destroy it along with the formula three years ago?â âThereâs one last dose⊠with the Harlow family.â âClaude Harlow?â Allenâs eyes widened. âWhat kind of grudge could he possibly have against a young girl to go this far? Everyone knows that poison starts off mild, but once it hits again⊠sheâll be no better than a dog in heatâŠâ Suzy had created the sinister poison to deal with a monster in the past. Even she was confused. The Harlows and Wrights had no bad blood between them. In fact, the Harlows even had business dealings with the Wheeler family. If Claude was behind the poisoning, sheâd rule him out as a suspect in the earlier kidnapping. That much was certain. There was no way Claude would have, or could have, let Suzy come so close to dying in that explosion. No matter who it was, she was determined to find them. It wasnât about proving her innocence to Dylan. She simply wouldnât swallow that humiliation! Whether it was the kidnapping, the ambush from three years ago, or the one responsible for murdering her familyâshe wasnât going to let any of them off the hook. Her eyes burned with hatred when Allen suddenly handed her the phone. "Boss, Dylan sent a message. He wants to arrange the treatment as soon as possible." Thinking of that deceitful man and his tenderness, she said, "Tell him the dealâs off." Earning two hundred million was tempting, but what intrigued her more was seeing what would happen to Anne after the second wave of poisoning hit her. ⊠In the corridor outside Anne's hospital room. Though Dylanâs face remained expressionless, his eyes were as cold as ice. "What did you just say? Repeat it." Desmond, bracing himself, repeated, "Red Falcon said the deal is off." He regretted it now. He never should have mentioned Red Falcon to Dylan that day. This Red Falconâfirst she demanded an outrageous sum, and now she was backing out. Didnât she know just how bad Dylanâs temper was? Suppressing his rage, Dylan growled. "Give me the phone." Desmond quickly handed it over. Dylan dialed the number. It rang but went unanswered. Once, twice, and again, until his patience wore thin. Finally, a soft voice came through, "Sorry, I was busy." Desmond quickly wiped the sweat that had started to drip down his forehead. Thank goodness the call got answeredâotherwise, his phone wouldâve met a tragic end. The phone itself wasnât worth much, but the data stored inside was priceless to him. âIâm looking for Red Falcon,â Dylan said bluntly. âSheâs not available. If thereâs something you need, you can tell me, and Iâll pass it along.â Dylanâs eyes narrowed. âThe price was already agreed upon. Why cancel now?â âPlease, Mr. Wright, stay calm. Itâs true that canceling the arrangement on our side is a bit abrupt, and we apologize. But we have our reasons. Do you think weâd walk away from two hundred million so easily if we didnât have a reason to?â âWhatâs the reason?â âThatâs not something we can share with you, Mr. Wright. I suggest you find someone else quickly before Miss Anne misses the best window for treatment.â Without waiting for a response, Allen hung up the phone. The next second⊠Smash! Desmond watched in despair as yet another phone met its fate. His heart shattered even more than the phone. âFind her!â Dylan ordered, his voice cold. He was determined to see what kind of game she was playing now. Desmond wanted to say, âEasier said than done.â Not just Red Falcon, but also Suzy, who had been missing without a trace for so long. Why did it seem like every woman around him enjoyed playing hide and seek? Inside the hospital room, Anne had been listening to the commotion outside. Once she heard Dylan and Desmond leave, she quickly locked the door and pulled out another phone hidden under her pillow. âDylan found someone to help me get an antidote, but I overheard that they backed out.â Anne sneered. âHe keeps saying how great this Red Falcon is, but it seems sheâs all talk. She mustâve realized she couldnât actually cure me, so she ran at the last minute.â âIf she created the poison, she definitely knows how to cure it.â âSo, you know her? If she made the poison, why would she suddenly refuse to help? I overheard Dylan offering two hundred million for her treatment!â Since Dylan was willing to spend that much money on her, Anne could tell just how important she was to Dylan. The truth didnât matter. Once she solidified her place as Dylanâs wife, even if he discovered she wasn't his true savior, his feelings for her would shield her from consequences. There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the person finally responded, âIsnât this exactly what you wanted? Youâll soon face the second wave of the poison. I hope all your wishes come true.â âThanks for the good wishes. Once Iâve secured Dylan, thereâll be plenty of rewards for you.â ⊠The quickest way to find out if Claude was behind the poisoning was to ask him directly. Even though it seemed unlikely, Suzy decided she needed to meet with him. After all, they hadnât seen each other in three years. So, the first thing she did upon returning to Hillside Villa was to ask Allen to look into Claudeâs whereabouts. Before she could finish eating an apple, Allen had the information ready. âClaudeâs on a business trip to Montara.â âBook a flight.â The next morning, Suzy boarded a plane bound for Montara. Allen wanted to accompany Suzy, but she refused, assigning him other tasks to handle. It had been three years since sheâd been on a plane, and as she gazed at the clouds outside the window, Suzy felt a sense of freedom, like a bird returning to the sky. For those three years, her life had revolved entirely around Dylan. In her attempt to be the perfect wife, she barely left the house and spent her days thinking about how to take better care of him. Every morning at five, she got up to make him breakfast. She hand-washed all his clothes, even his socks and underwear. While he was at work, she counted the minutes, waiting like a lovesick fool for his return. Looking back now, she couldnât believe she had lived like that for three years. What on earth had she been thinking? After landing, she went straight to Claudeâs hotel, only to be told, âMr. Claude checked out early this morning.â Suzy was speechless. She had planned on surprising him. Oh well, since she was already here, she might as well treat it like a vacation. Suzy spent the day shopping, buying plenty of things before catching her flight back home. She had to admit that being single has its perks! The farther away men were, the better. At the airport, Suzy spotted Allen waiting from a distance. âOver hereâŠâ Her smile froze instantly. Dylan? Surrounded by a crowd, Dylan was heading straight in her direction. Suzy quickly turned her back and thought, âAnother unlucky day.â It wasnât that she feared him; she just didnât want to see him. And she was pretty sure he didnât want to see her either. To avoid mutual disdain, Suzy slipped into the restroom. Dylan scanned the area, but there was no sign of Suzy. âAre you sure she was on this flight?â Desmond, sweating profusely, stammered, âIâve double-checked several times. Mrs. Wright was definitely on this flight from Montara.â Desmond could hardly contain his excitement when he first got the news. Suzyâs disappearance, Red Falconâs cancellation, and the woman who had infiltrated Anneâs hospital room only to escape under full lockdownâthose three women had pushed Dylan to the brink of an explosion. Thank goodness there was finally news about Suzy. Otherwise, if Dylan exploded, Desmond would be the first casualty. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Desmond said, "Iâve got people stationed at every exit. We should be able to find her soon." Half an hour later... Dylanâs voice turned icy. âWhere is she?â Desmond wished he could cut out his own tongue. Sometimes, it was best not to speak too soon! He couldnât understand how Suzy, an ordinary person, was so good at slipping away. âDesmond, your performance is really slipping. If this keeps up, I think it might be time to send you to South Allica for some additional training,â Dylan said coldly before walking off. It had been half an hour, and Suzy had probably already made her escape. The fact that she could disappear under these circumstances made it clear that he had seriously underestimated her abilities. Outside the airport, a line of sleek black cars was parked, with the leading one looking particularly impressive. Desmond jogged ahead, opening the door for Dylan, who was just about to step into the car when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something⊠In an instant, Dylan turned, took several swift strides, and grabbed the shoulder of a woman standing nearby. hapter 0006 When Dylan spun the woman around to face him, his expression darkened instantly, like a shadow passing over his features. From behind, she had looked strikingly similar to Suzy, but her front was a different story. Her appearance was plain, a far cry from Suzyâs striking beauty. The fact that heâd even momentarily considered Suzy attractive only made Dylan's scowl deepen. "Hey, handsome, your approach is pretty unique. I like it," the woman said with a playful smile, leaning toward him. "I live close by. How about we..." "Iâve got the wrong person," Dylan cut her off. As he stepped back, the woman nearly stumbled but wasnât discouraged. She moved closer again. "Donât be shy. Weâre both adults here. Whatâs there to hold back?" With a sharp glare, Dylan signaled to Desmond, who quickly stepped in to handle the situation. Once the two of them had driven off, Suzy slipped into Allenâs car, slowly peeling off the human-skin mask from her face. She had thought their encounter was a coincidence, but it turned out Dylan had deliberately come looking for her. But why? After all the commotion, what was he trying to achieve? She had already stepped aside. What more could he possibly want? Allen seemed equally puzzled. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and he couldnât help but ask, âBoss, I just found out... Dylan wasnât looking for Red Falcon. Heâs been trying to find his missing wifeâŠâ "Yeah, thatâs me," Suzy said calmly. There was no point in hiding it anymore. "...Youâre married?" Allen was visibly stunned. "Was. I got married, then divorced." "Was it because of Anne?" Allenâs tone was laced with frustration. The fact that Dylan was willing to spend two hundred million on Anne was a clear sign of their deep connection. Unable to hold back, Allen muttered a curse under his breath. "Like mother, like daughter. Sheâs just as rotten as her mom." Suzy immediately caught the significance of his words. "You and the Wheeler family..." "I have nothing to do with the Wheelers," Allen said sharply, gripping the steering wheel. It was a painful chapter of Allenâs life, one he had never shared with Suzy. He had always planned to take his revenge quietly, without burdening her with his past. After all, Suzy had her own scores to settle. Anneâs mother, Helena Fox, and his own were cousins. An unexpected tragedy left her an orphan, and his grandmother, moved by sympathy, took Helena in. Little did she know, she was nurturing a wolf in sheepâs clothing. On the surface, Helena seemed sweet and caring, but beneath that facade, she was as cold and calculating. When Allen was eight, he walked in on his father, William Wheeler, having an affair with Helena while his mother was away on a business trip â and in his mother's own bed, no less. Not long after, they drove his mother to her death and tried to burn him alive. He suffered severe burns across most of his body. If it hadnât been for Suzy saving him while he was trying to escape, he wouldnât even be alive today. She nursed him back to health, gave him a new face, and turned him into the person he was now â someone William wouldnât recognize, even if they stood face to face. Suzy could tell at a glance that Allen was lying. Since he didnât want to delve deeper into the subject, she didnât push him further. Everyone has their own secrets. She shifted the conversation. "Did you take care of what I asked before I left?" Allen opened the glove compartment and pulled out a blue folder. "The investigation confirms that thereâs never been any conflict between the Goodwin family and the Turner family, not now or three years ago. And there's no way the Goodwins could learn about your real identity." Suzy had once been the heiress of the Frosts, the wealthiest family. Years ago, a brutal assassination wiped out her entire family in a single night, from relatives to servantsâa total of thirty lives, all murdered. The murderers were beyond cruel. Everyone believed that no one from the Frost family survived, unaware that someone had risked their life to save Suzy. For years, she had kept her identity hidden. Apart from Allen, Raven Murray, and Riley White, no one else knew who she really was. And none of them would ever betray her. Suzy opened the folder, flipping through the pages. She found nothing out of the ordinary; everything seemed in order. Yet, three years ago, she distinctly remembered the kidnappers mentioning the Goodwin family. Closing the folder, she tossed it aside casually. "You can dodge the first blow, but not the second." "Yes, if the Goodwin family is really involved, no matter how powerful they are, theyâll pay the price in full," Allen said before asking, "What about Claude?" Suzy leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed. "He returned early. I didnât get a chance to see him." "So, are we heading to the Harlow family next?" "Weâll see." After all the running around, Suzy was feeling tired. Sheâd head home for some rest first. Besides, Anneâs second wave of poisoning was set for tonight. Suzy needed to be well-rested to fully enjoy what was about to unfold. ⊠That night, at the hospital. Anne had been unusually thirsty since dinner. She drank plenty of water, yet the discomfort only worsened. She knew it was timeâthe second wave of the poison was hitting. In a panic, she called Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, where are you? I feel so awful..." she moaned as soon as the line connected, not waiting for a response. But it wasnât Dylan who answeredâit was his sister, Diana Wright. "Feeling awful? Call a doctor. Whatâs the point of calling my brother?" Diana had always disliked Anne. "And this is my final warning. My brother is married. Whether itâs me or my grandmother, weâve both accepted his wife as family. Youâd better stay far away from him." Anne wasnât fond of Diana either. "Oh really? You probably donât know that theyâre divorced, do you? And it was Suzy who initiated it." "You're lying!" Diana snapped, not believing a word. "My sister-in-law loves my brother. Thereâs no way she would ever ask for a divorce." "If you don't believe me, go ask your brother. And by the way, your dear sister-in-law has run off with some random guy and hasnât been seen since!" "You witch! Say one more bad word about her, and I'll rip your mouth apart..." Diana was in the middle of her furious rant when the phone was snatched away by Dylan. She looked up. "Brother, that witch Anne just said that your wife wants a divorce!" Dylanâs face was cold. "Watch your manners." "My manners? I rather show some manners to a dog than her! Now tell meâis Suzy divorcing you or not?" "Thatâs none of your business," he said, his dark eyes narrowing. "What you should be focused on is your exam tomorrow." With that, he turned to leave. Diana chased after him. "How can it not concern me? She saved Grandmaâs life! If it werenât for her, weâd both be orphans by now. You canât be so heartless..." No matter what she said, Dylan kept walking without a word. Frustrated, Diana stomped her foot. "Iâm calling Grandma!" Dylan knew Diana would go straight to Grace to complain. He couldnât figure out what spell Suzy had cast over both his grandmother and his sister. They adored her to the point of obsession. The only reason he hadnât launched a full search for Suzy was to avoid alarming Grace, who was currently enjoying her vacation overseas. But now it seemed the secret was out. With that thought, he redialed Anneâs number to find out how she knew about the divorce. "Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan..." The moment the call connected, Anneâs pained voice came through. "Whatâs wrong?" Dylan asked. "I feel terrible, I really feel like Iâm dying. Please come and save me!" "Donât panic. Iâm on my way." Chapter 0007 At the hospital. The moment Dylan stepped through the door, Anne threw herself into his arms. She clung to him like a rag doll, trembling against him. "Dylan, I feel awful... I feel so terrible..." âWhere does it hurt?â Dylan tried to push her away, but instead of letting go, she only clung tighter. "Everywhere..." Anne moaned, placing his hand on her front. "Especially here, it feels like bugs crawling under my skinâitching, unbearable. Mr. Dylan, please help me!" Her behavior was clearly not normal. âIâll call the doctor.â âNo, I donât want a doctor. I want you.â Anne clung to him like a vine, her hands restlessly undoing his shirt buttons. âPlease, Mr. Dylan, help me, I feel like Iâm dying. If you donât help me, I really will die...â As her fingers worked to undo the buttons, Dylan grabbed her wrists. âAnne, calm down...â âI canât calm down...â She leaned in, trying to kiss him, whispering his name over and over, âMr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan...â Just as she was about to succeed, Dylan forcefully pushed her away, sending her sprawling to the floor. His resistance spoke volumes, even if he hadnât said a word. A flicker of coldness flashed in Anneâs eyes, but when she looked up again, only sadness remained. âMr. Dylan, do you hate me?â Dylan didnât respond, nor did he help her up. Instead, he turned away. âIâm calling a doctor.â Anne wasnât about to let him leave. She scrambled to her feet and wrapped herself around him from behind. âI told you, I donât want a doctor. I want you! Please, Mr. Dylan, take me...â âAnne, something is clearly wrong with you,â Dylan said, his lips pressed into a thin line. âYou need to see a doctor.â âNo doctor can help me. Only you can save me.â As she spoke, Anne began stripping off her own clothes. âPlease, save me. Iâm begging you.â Just when Anne thought she had succeeded, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head, and everything went black as she crumpled to the floor. Watching Anne fall unconscious, Suzy, who had been hiding in the wardrobe, retracted the silver needle that she had prepared to throw. It wasnât about helping Dylanâit was simply that she couldnât bear to watch the scene unfold. It was the kind of thing that could make her eyes bleed. What she didnât expect was that Dylan would actually... Anne was supposed to be the woman he loved most. Suzy couldnât quite understand why he knocked her out. Dylan scooped Anne up in his arms and laid her back on the hospital bed before pressing the call button for the doctor. When the doctor arrived, Dylan briefly explained what had just happened. âIs this related to the poison in her system?â After a quick examination, the doctor nodded. âYes, youâre right. The poison in Miss Anneâs body is highly unusual. The last time the poison flared up, nothing like this happened. Now, itâs suddenly escalated, and who knows what could happen next. We need to detox her as soon as possible.â Dylan frowned and thought about what the doctor said. There had been no word from Red Falcon. Forget about tracking her downâshe hadnât even answered a single phone call. Desmond had been trying for days, but every attempt had gone unanswered. Detoxing Anne was proving to be no simple task. For the first time, he found himself played by a woman who had him in the palm of her hand. With his jaw tight, Dylan commanded, âFor now, find a way to alleviate her symptoms.â âThatâs going to be difficult...â the doctor began. âThis poison is something Iâve never encountered before, and I know nothing about it. Iâm concerned that if we administer the wrong medication, it could worsen her condition instead of easing it. So...â The doctor pressed his lips together before continuing, âAt this point, the safest way to relieve her symptoms might be for you, Mr. Wright, to help Miss Anne personally.â âAbsolutely not!â Dylan didnât hesitate. âIf it comes to that, weâll use sedatives.â âBut that might not be safe eitherâŠâ âAt least that way, sheâll maintain her dignity,â Dylan muttered, his voice low as he looked at Anne lying unconscious. âI canât let her lose her honor.â So, it wasnât that he wouldnât touch herâhe just didnât want her to be ridiculed. Suzyâs mind flashed back to a day when she had gone to his office to deliver some documents he had left behind at home. His employees had mistaken her for the maid, and from start to finish, he hadnât said a single word to correct them. They had been married for three years, and not once had he shown her the respect a wife deserved. Yet, when it came to Anne, he shielded her at every turn... Suzy didnât want to compare, but moments like this always brought it to the surface, no matter how hard she tried. Why was she even watching this pathetic drama? She really should find a way to slip out of here. And as luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself. The doctor left, and moments later, Dylanâs phone rang. Probably to avoid waking Anne, he stepped out of the room with his phone. Seizing her chance, Suzy quietly slipped out of the wardrobe. But just as she thought sheâd made her escape, Dylan walked back in. Their eyes locked. The air between them went dead silent. Suzy reacted quickly, darting toward the balcony. Dylan was just as fast, his long strides closing the distance. Just as she was about to leap off the balcony, his hand caught her shoulder, yanking her back. "Speak. Who sent you?" Suzy let out a cold laugh. "The hospital is a public place. Iâm allowed to come and go as I please. Do I need your permission now?" She wasnât worried at all about Dylan recognizing her voice. Before going out, she always used a voice-altering agentânot to hide from him specifically, but out of long-standing habit. Keeping her true identity hidden was a necessity. Though she hadnât gone so far as to disguise herself today, just a simple mask, there was no way Dylan would figure it out. She wouldnât give him the chance. "So, you think you can just come and go as you please, huh..." Dylan's grip on her shoulder tightened, his voice growing colder. "Since you're here, why don't you stay for a while?" "The windâs pretty strong tonightâcareful you donât bite your tongue!" Suzy swiftly dodged his grip, twisting out of his hold, and in one fluid motion, threw a sharp punch directly at him. But Dylan wasnât easy prey either, effortlessly dodging her attack. The two were locked in a fierce exchange, trading blow after blow, kick after kick. After dozens of moves, neither had the upper hand. Dylan chuckled, "Not bad." Suzy smirked. "You're not too shabby yourself, Mr. Wright." But then, his eyes flashed dangerously, and he switched tactics, aiming a series of strikes at her abdomen. Realizing his intent, Suzy shifted her defenses to protect her midsection, but in an unexpected move, Dylan suddenly diverted his hand, reaching for her mask instead. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut | 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 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&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/t39.35426-6/463603676_1575537693071797_6068888192638989593_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9TFSppdTfswQ7kNvgEpJUv-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AS76z34zUrbEUjV0Zlyt9QC&oh=00_AYDWLxWQVmuYENdsnf73Sf_16bRFJ7Sgk9qWBs153VysSg&oe=674D954A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | 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 grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured 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 boulderâeach 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 objectsâit 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 sharesâthe 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 ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand 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 Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed 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 upâher 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 messâresignation 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 wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda 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 homeâLydia 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, thoughtsâthey'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 shipâthe 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 Yagleâa 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 assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho 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 selfâunresponsive 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 flickeredâa 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 exceptionalâtangy 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 notebookâher 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, butâŠ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher 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 guessâit 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. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&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=10922&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/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=41iAW8r1fuMQ7kNvgHdJ9e3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZO84i2ldjwS4p8ttgsGnSJ&oh=00_AYDAfcyeO8Wm1wg4St4hBWJimUl_Z5G74KZ5rVCn-UTZnw&oe=674D7E5F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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