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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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No | 2024-11-27 18:50 | active | 1930 | 0 | RELIEF AFTER AUTO ACCIDENT đ | Accidents can cause hidden injuries like whiplash, neck pain, and headaches. Donât wait! Kelly Wellness & Chiropractic in Cupertino can help you feel better and recover faster. Book an appointment today to start your healing journey! | BOOK_TRAVEL | http://fb.me/ | Kelly Wellness & Chiropractic | https://www.facebook.com/KellyWellness/ | 188 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Book Now | 0 | fb.me | DCO | YOUR RECOVERY STARTS TODAY! | http://fb.me/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468310676_1092188225773563_8984929535483367037_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1Md1fVOl72oQ7kNvgEfXowl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Az8KhmvYIKrGe4TIud8eAs7&oh=00_AYCxla7GaVqFwuGUxLbLttuYSuhPq67-X51RhVCld-6O2Q&oe=674D7838 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Kelly Wellness & Chiropractic | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | "Mrs. Ford, Mr. Ford's back." "Really?" Yasmin Starr was busy with her drafts. When she heard that her husband was back, her eyes lit up. She drew the curtains before her to see a shiny car driving along the path leading to the villa. She saw a man in the car. His handsome face was visible from where she stood; his actions and carriage exuded a regal air. It really was him! Yasmin's heart started racing. Her face burned at the thought of the things they did whenever he came home. Every kiss they shared was searing and passionate. It made her shy yet nervous. Just then, the door to her room swung open. Blake Ford walked in. Yasmin smiled at him. "Mr. B!" "Come here." He loosened his tie. She walked over to him shyly. In the next second, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a hard kiss. She moaned before sinking into the kiss. Then, he carried her to the bed and had his way with her. Blake looked like the celibate and gentle type, but he was no gentleman on bed. He wouldn't let Yasmin off the hook without making her cry. Yasmin shut her eyes as she savored the experience. This time, Blake was wilder than he'd ever been. He was only satiated when she begged him to stop with tears streaming down her face. He lifted the sheets and strode into the bathroom. Shortly after, there was the sound of running water. Yasmin remained in bed, lying there without an ounce of strength in her body. She and Blake had been secretly married for two years now. At first, it hadn't been a marriage of love. Her father had forced Blake to wed her. So, in the beginning, he didn't like her much. But she adored him. She'd done everything she could to chase after him and treat him well. Finally, he'd returned her feelings. Yasmin's heart pounded as she recalled how wild and enthusiastic he'd been tonight. She couldn't help feeling sweet. Would their marriage get better from now on? Once she bore him a child, they'd be a happy family of three. Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open. Blake walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He had an amazing body, but his expression seemed somewhat menacing. He hadn't even wiped the beads of water dripping from his hair as he asked brusquely, "Do you have a baby?" Blake held up a test. It had been placed on the toilet bowl, where he'd taken it. Yasmin sat up. She was a little scared of not being able to read him. "I don't know yet. I bought it this morning." "Why did you buy it?" "I've been feeling nauseous lately, and I haven't had much of an appetite. You told me to do a test if I had any symptoms." Yasmin's big eyes were filled with innocence. Blake said, "Go do the test now." "I'll wait until you're done showering." He was obviously not done yet. "Do it. Now." His expression was frosty. Yasmin didn't dare delay further. It just so happened that she needed to pee, so she did the test at the same time. A few minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom. Blake was sitting on the touch. He looked up when he heard her come out. His eyes were like dark whirlpools as he looked at her. "How is it?" "There's only one line, Mr. B." Yasmin was rather disappointed. She didn't have a baby. It was impossible to tell whether Blake's eyes were filled with disappointment or relief. He said calmly, "Get me something to wear." "Are you still going out so late at night?" "Yeah." His voice was as cold as ever. Yasmin didn't say anything else. She went to the walk-in wardrobe. She was actually very disappointed. Deep down, she wanted to bear a child. The Ford family wanted her to have a child, as did Blake. But no matter what treatments and supplements she'd taken over the past two years, she'd still failed to conceive. Besides, she was reluctant to let Blake go. Over the two years of their marriage, her love for Blake had only grown deeper. He was always too busy for her, though. Sometimes, he would be away from home for up to half a month. Now that they'd finally been reunited, he was leaving again. ###6891225### Chapter 2 Yasmin felt a little bitter. She grabbed some dark clothes from the wardrobe and returned to the room. There, she heard Blake talking to someone on the phone. "Don't be scared. Have Alicia keep an eye on you. I'll be right there." His voice was a brand of tenderness that Yasmin had never heard before. She stopped short. Suddenly, the sweetness she'd felt earlier dissipated. She asked tentatively, "Who was that, Mr. B?" He glanced at her, his tall stature domineering. He said coldly, "No one." "Was it a woman?" "It's none of your business." He grabbed the clothes from her and put them on. Usually, he would have her put them on for him. Would every man start to be repelled by their wives once they fell in love with someone else? Yasmin's stomach started convulsing. It looked like she had a stomach problem. She felt horrible. Blake got dressed and turned to leave. Yasmin was on high alertâa woman's sixth sense was powerful. She ran to the door and said, "I'm feeling a little sick, Mr. B. Could you stay the night?" Blake turned to look at her. He was unbelievably handsome, but there was something about him that just made him seem heartless. "Have Mary call the family doctor if you're not feeling well. Also, I won't be back for some time." With that, he headed downstairs. His figure went further and further away under the warm lights. Yasmin suddenly felt dazed. Why did it feel like she'd never truly held a spot in his heart? A wave of nausea washed over her. She ran to the bathroom and vomited her dinner. This was followed by a sharp pain in her stomach. She was as pale as a sheet as she struggled to crawl to the bed. She'd just laid down when another bolt of pain shot through her. Yasmin ran to the bathroom again. This time, there was only bile. She she had food poisoning! She grabbed her phone weakly to call Mary Gould. "My stomach hurts, Mary. Take me to the hospital." Mary ran upstairs. When she saw Yasmin sprawled on the carpet, drenched in sweat, she hurriedly called the driver. They took Yasmin to the hospital. When they arrived, Mary helped her inside the clinic. The doctor gave her a painkiller before instructing her to do an ultrasound. They needed to determine whether it was acute cholecystitis or gastritis. Yasmin's stomach stopped hurting once the painkiller was administered. It lifted her spirits somewhat. Mary helped her to the ultrasound room. But there, they met someone unexpectedâBlake. "Mrs. Ford, look! It's Mr. Ford!" Mary looked happy. Yasmin looked in the direction she pointed. She saw Blake standing not too far away. A wave of delight washed over her. She was about to call out to him when she saw another woman. The woman came out of the room with a hand supporting her back. She held a report. "The doctor said the baby's fine, Blake." His cold face immediately became tender. "That's good to know. Remember to watch what you eat in the future. Now that you're to be a mother, you have to be careful about the food you consume." "Okay. I'll watch out from now on." The woman smiled gently. Yasmin was rooted to the spot with astonishment. Her gaze went from delight to disbelief. She stared at them. The woman wore a light-colored, demure dress, and she was beautiful. Her long hair was glossy, and her eyes were right. She exuded a cool yet bewitching air. ###6891226### Chapter 3 Yasmin suddenly recalled something a friend of Blake's had once said. He'd told her, "There's a woman who lives in Blake's heart. They met in Merania, and he's pined after her for years. You and her look pretty similar, actually." At the time, Yasmin had been indignant. She felt that the woman was no match for her since she was already a thing of the past. Now, her dream had been shattered. As she watched how tender Blake was toward the woman, she felt like a sharp blade had been driven right into her heart. It hurt so much that all her organs felt like they were cramping. Blake shielded the woman from the crowd as they turned to leave. Suddenly, he caught sight of Yasmin standing not too far away. Mary was with her. He frowned. The woman asked gently, "Do you know her, Blake?" "Yeah. She's my wife, Yasmin Starr," he said plainly. "Why don't you head to the car first, Giselle? I'll be right behind you." "Okay." Giselle O'Shea nodded obediently. Before she left, she turned to look at Yasmin. Their gazes met in mid-air. Giselle appraised her and smiled faintly. Yasmin's heart constricted as bitterness seeped through it. Blake walked over to her. He was tall enough to block out the light above her head. "What are you doing here?" Mary was about to answer when Yasmin asked, "Who is she?" Why was Blake at the hospital with her for a prenatal check? Did she have his child? She stopped her thoughts there, not daring to think any further. "Don't ask about things that have nothing to do with you." Blake avoided her question. Yasmin's eyes turned red. "Can't I even ask a question when you've had an affair?" "An affair? Do you even have the right to say that?" Blake's gaze was menacing. "Have you forgotten how we got married? Also, I made it clear to you when we married that I would never love you." The blood drained from Yasmin's face. She clenched her fists tightly, barely able to calm down. "So I'm nothing but a disgusting buddy to you?" "Something like that." Yasmin smiled self-deprecatingly. "I see. You were mad at my dad for tricking you, so you thought you wouldn't waste the opportunity and just get me, huh?" "Stop talking." Blake's gaze was laser-sharp. So, she couldn't even talk now? Yasmin's heart sank to the depths of hell. She refused to listen and continued, "Now that the woman you love is back, what are you going to do to me?" He pursed his lips. His silence disappointed her. Yasmin's stomach started hurting again; even the painkiller wasn't doing anything to stop it. As the pain intensified, she finally passed out. ⊠It was already daytime when Yasmin woke up. She opened her eyes with a frown to see Blake leaving the room. She had an IV drip. "Mr. B!" she called. She almost fell out of the bed. Mary caught her. "Be careful, Mrs. Ford." "Where has Mr. B gone?" "That woman called him, so he went to see her." Yasmin jolted. "Don't let this upset you too much, Mrs. Ford. Your health should be your priority," Mary said, looking sad. "After doing the ultrasound, you were diagnosed with acute gastritis arising from food poisoning. You've already gone through three IV drips, so you're really weak now." Yasmin couldn't suppress the bitterness in her heart. She had acute gastritis, but Blake had abandoned her after one phone call from Giselle. It looked like she was no match for Giselle at all. "Have something to eat, Mrs. Ford." Mary brought her a bowl of oatmeal. Yasmin shook her head. "Set it aside for now, Mary. I don't want to eat anything yet." Just then, her phone, which had been placed on the bedside table, rang. She answered it wanly. "Hello?" ###6891227### Chapter 4 "Yaz, did you know about your precious Mr. B cheating on you?" The phone call was from Yasmin's best friend, Eunice Salle. "I saw it all over the news first thing in the morning! He's gotten together with a pianist named Giselle O'Shea, and it looks like she's even carrying a baby. "The paparazzi caught them at the hospital together. Hurry and go check it out!" Yasmin's heart constricted. She checked the news. There were tweets everywhere on Twitter talking about the photos of Blake accompanying Giselle to the hospital last night. Blake was the CEO of Windmere Group and had countless assets under his name. He was the most eligible bachelor in the city. This was why his private life had always been under intense scrutiny. Now that he'd gotten caught accompanying a woman to the hospital, it immediately became a trending topic. The netizens had even managed to dig out Giselle's personal information. She was a renowned pianist in Merania. She and Blake were childhood sweethearts. They had a strong bond. After growing up, she'd gone abroad to study while Blake had waited for her for ten years. Now that Giselle was back, they could finally be together. Everyone on the Internet was going crazy over their relationship. They were all lamenting the glory of their love. In just one morning, Giselle's Twitter account had gained three million followers. The one thing Yasmin noticed was that Giselle had been in Merania. It matched up with what Blake's friend had told her before. So, she was Blake's true love. Yasmin smiled mockingly. "Did you see it, Yaz? I can't believe this nonsense is all over the Internet. I can't take itâI have to go teach these people a lesson!" Eunice gritted her teeth. Yasmin stopped her. "Don't do anything. I already know about it." "Wait, you do?" "Yeah." Eunice's voice shot up an octave. "What is wrong with you? Aren't you going to do anything about him getting involved with another woman? Shouldn't you be teaching that woman a lesson?" Yasmin sighed. "Didn't you see what those people are saying? She's Mr. B's true love. He's waited for her for a decade." "I couldn't care less whether she's his true love or a call girl he hired. She's in the wrong for getting involved with him despite knowing he's married!" "Forget it." Yasmin sounded tired. "My marriage to Mr. B has always been a one-sided thing. I'm tired now." Besides, her manners and upbringing wouldn't permit her to get physical with Giselle. In fact, if she were to cause a fuss, the whole city would know what a terrible marriage she had. She and Blake had indeed been married, so she didn't want things to turn ugly. After a moment of silence, Eunice said, "What are you going to do, then? Are you going to keep this up or get a divorce?" "A divorce is all I want now." Yasmin looked at the needle on the back of her hand. She was sick, yet he was accompanying Giselle. Her heart was now dead. "Since he doesn't care about me, I won't force things anymore." "I'll always support you, Yaz. You're so pretty. There are plenty of men who'd love to be with you. You don't have to be so hung up on a scumbag!" "Thanks for comforting me." She was grateful to have Eunice by her side when she was at her worst. After hanging up, Yasmin rested for a while. When she was finally done with her IV drip, she felt better. Her stomach didn't hurt anymore, but she was still rather weak. Mary and the driver took her home. She fell asleep again. Blake returned that night. As he took his coat off, he asked Mary, "Where is she?" "Upstairs. She's sleeping." Mary added, "Mrs. Ford was quite sad to see that you weren't around when she woke up this morning, Mr. Ford." Blake fell silent. After a pause, he went upstairs. He easily pushed the room door open. Yasmin was curled up on the bay window like a cat. Her long hair fell from the seat to the floor. It made her seem that much more skinny and petite. Why was she sleeping there when she was sick? ###6891228### Chapter 5 Blake frowned and approached Yasmin. Her eyes were shut. There was a sort of childlike quality to her face as she slept, but it didn't take away from her beauty. Her naturally pink and moist lips were puckered slightly. They were as tempting as water to a parched man in the desert. Blake's anger dissipated at this sight. He bent down to lift her into his arms. At the warmth, Yasmin subconsciously buried her head against his neck. She wanted more of it. Blake looked down at her. His gaze was too deep for others to tell what he was thinking. Then, he placed her on the bed. He was about to leave when he heard her mumble, "You're nothing, Mr. B âŠ" Blake paused. He rested a hand on her face and caressed it. She was deeply asleep but subconsciously sucked on his finger. His breathing hitched. "Yasmin?" Was she awake? She didn't respond. Instead, she turned on her side and held his hand to her cheek. She looked wholly dependent on him. Blake lowered his head and kissed her. Yasmin felt like her tongue was numb from being kissed. As she woke up blearily, the first thing she saw was a handsome face that had been zoomed in. Before she could say anything, Blake kissed her again. He slipped a hand underneath her dress. His gaze was fiery enough to set her ablaze. Yasmin's expression turned icy. She bit his tongue hard. "What the h...!" With that, a bolt of pain shot through Blake. He released her. She rolled away from him, wrapping the sheets around herself as she glared at him. "What?" He gave her an icy look. "That's my line. Did you come here to see me after your date with your mistress? Don't you find yourself dirty?" Yasmin looked furious. Blake's gaze turned frosty. "She's not a mistress. Don't spout nonsense." "How is she not a mistress when she already has your child?" Blake didn't answer her. Instead, he said, "Don't you dare hurt her." Yasmin sneered. "How could I possibly hurt her? Do I look like a monster to you? Or do you think I'm powerful enough to go against you?" "Just don't bother her." Yasmin trembled. She didn't expect him to be so protective of her. She fell silent, looking frosty. "How's your stomach?" Blake sat by the bed and broke the silence. "What does it have to do with you?" Yasmin was mad at the mention of this. She'd been languishing in the hospital room while he'd been with another woman. No wife on this earth would be able to accept something like that. She was so mad that tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision. She said bluntly, "Let's get divorced, Blake." "What did you call me?" Blake shot her an icy look. She'd always addressed him as "Mr. B". Blake was eight years older than Yasmin and exuded a natural dominance. In the past, she would be scared of him if he were to so much as glance at her, let alone give her such an icy look. But now, Yasmin didn't care anymore. She met his gaze head-on. "I called you by your name. From now on, I will only ever call you that. Also, I said, let's get divorced." The thought of a divorce had been reverberating in her mind since she'd woken up that morning to see him leave the hospital room. If he couldn't even be bothered to be by her side when she was hospitalized, what was the point of keeping him? He would only exasperate her. "What did you say?" Blake thought he'd heard her wrong. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Say that again if you dare." "I regret everything now, Blake. I don't want to be with you anymore," Yasmin enunciated, her voice steady and clear. "Let's get divorced." She'd be much better off kicking a heartless man like him to the curb as soon as possible. He was the one who said he'd never love her, anyway. Blake sneered. His gaze was harsh. "What's this trick you're trying to pull this time?" He even thought she was just playing the fool by demanding a divorce. It showed that when a man didn't love a woman, he would think she was just playing games, even if she were to throw herself off a building. ###6891229### Chapter 6 Yasmin was dead at heart, and her eyes were dull. "I'm not throwing a tantrum, Blake. I'm being serious. I've been stuck in a loveless marriage for two years, and I've had enough." Over more than 700 days, she'd gone from hopeful to despondent. She was tired of living like this. "Have you forgotten that your father was the one who sent you to my bed?" Blake's eyes darkened. "He went to such lengths to force me to marry you, yet you're now demanding a divorce. Do you even hear yourself? "Go ahead and throw whatever tantrum you want, but don't take things too far. Men hate it when women are too fussy, you know." Indeed, Yasmin's father, Stuart Starr, had sent her to Blake's bed. At the time, something had gone wrong with Stuart's company. He foresaw himself ending up behind bars and had been afraid of his enemies going after Yasmin. So, he'd orchestrated for Yasmin to end up in bed with Blake. Then, he'd informed the paparazzi and the Ford family about this, forcing Blake to marry Yasmin. Stuart had some of Windmere Group's trade secrets. He'd threatened to release them if Blake didn't protect Yasmin. And that was how Stuart had tricked Blake into marrying Yasmin. Blake had harbored a grudge against him and Yasmin for it. On their wedding night, he'd warned Yasmin, "Your father gave you to me, so you have to atone for his sins. Obey every word I say. Don't ever go against me." That year, Yasmin was 20 years old and a sophomore in college. She'd been terrified, and she'd nodded with red eyes. "I understand, Mr. B." "Don't call me that!" Blake snarled. "I'm sorry. I'll be careful from now on." Yasmin's eyes were filled with sorrow as she recalled their past. She didn't hate Stuart. She knew he'd forced Blake to marry her because he wanted to protect her. It had been two years since then. Stuart was still in prison but would be released in a few years once he'd served his full sentence. "I know you're still harboring a grudge against me and my father for forcing you into this marriage. Now, I'm setting you free," she said. She despised him for cheating on her but was still grateful that he'd kept her safe for two years. Blake looked at her icily. Then, he sneered. "That stupid studio of yours isn't making a single cent. Can you really feed yourself if we get divorced?" Yasmin and Eunice had set up their own studio. It was still early days and had yet to bring in profits. "No entrepreneur makes money when they first started. It takes time. I know I'm not earning anything yet, but I'll work hard. I've graduated and grown up, Blake. I don't need your protection anymore," Yasmin said. Blake knitted his brows tightly. "So that's what it is. You want a divorce because you don't need me for anything anymore. Do you really think reality's that sweet, Yasmin? Your family forced me to marry you when they needed me. Now that you don't need me anymore, you're demanding a divorce." "I'll admit that my father made a mistake, but haven't I been atoning for his sins for the past two years? I've obeyed you at every turn. I've never gone against you. Besides, don't you want to be free? Your mistress had a baby. Don't you want to give her and your child what they deserve?" "My matters have nothing to do with you," Blake said coldly. Yasmin fell silent. Indeed, he'd never allowed her to ask about his matters. She turned to leave the room. An ugly look crept onto Blake's face as he dragged her back and pinned her to the bed. He circled her with his arms and looked down at her sharply. Yasmin was caught off guard. "What are you doing?" "You're always talking about how much you love me, right? Look at how you have to announce it every day." There was a hint of anger in his face. "Are you really willing to watch me ride into the sunset with another woman? Doesn't it upset you?" Yasmin lowered her eyes. She said softly, "Not anymore." It did upset her, but she didn't want to love him anymore. | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=12516& | 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 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=12516&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/t39.35426-6/450241899_805156385076440_3951725450484932130_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZHv5fszEtR8Q7kNvgGR_DL2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5sCukwVDIKLYqwMZq18xRb&oh=00_AYAcVEWoHE48w50Dl3zoUqQbKiLNqUI8Co9FqHKzDePkWg&oe=674DA7F8 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 19:50 | active | 1932 | 0 | Emerging from the confines of marriage, she blossomed from a mundane housewife to a renowned painter with a legion of admirers. When her ex-husband sought reconciliation at her doorstep, he witnessed her in the arms of a prominent man. "Meet your new sister-in-law!" ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the d*ug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a d*ug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. P**gnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bl**d test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j**k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a s*ap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-e | Good Story | https://www.facebook.com/100090635329790/ | 686 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1025-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=638434121690371&rawadid=120217235716230091 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468306230_1274946686991286_231525497618254267_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yh1p8MAZYykQ7kNvgHFPSmc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A8hrHaz8lCl9tyvqPmIIHAR&oh=00_AYDmpm8pUKjb1WiEI1mDjyeAhGw0v17x0m9o5SIM5SobYA&oe=674DA7C9 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Good Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:53 | active | 1932 | 0 | 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 | VIDEO | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213381436380790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465735950_895827635853777_5954417561869788870_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8hSopDcZrCgQ7kNvgG2c8Ai&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AL4oRDGVRci26eH5yYvyzbY&oh=00_AYAuyic-H1FsLdm1_8GYv6Zep0lnNptvzWW_zYwKbN3p_g&oe=674D9662 | 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 | It had been three years of marriage. Justine Thorpe finally found her husband, Ash Vanderbilt, in the OB-GYN clinic of a hospital. He hadn't shown up for three months. However, he was not alone. Another womanâhis mistressâwas with him. She bore more than a passing resemblance to Justine. Her name was Jenny Thorpe, and she had been living as Justine's replacement in the Thorpe family for 16 years. Justine had suspected her husband of having an affair for at least six months, but she never imagined it would be with Jenny. Not that the revelation was entirely surprising, now that she thought about it. Everyone in Sol's upper class knew that Ash's true love had always been his childhood friend. Justine was the devil who had gotten in the way. Seeing Ash and Jenny together somehow relieved Justine. The mystery was finally solved. She watched them enter the elevator. Ash's delicate eyelashes were lowered as he spoke softly to his companion. Justine had never seen him this gentle before. Jenny was grazing her slightly protruding belly, nodding bashfully. Justine and Jenny closely resembled each other, yet Justine could never mimic the seductive femininity that Jenny exuded. Suddenly, Jenny lifted her head and met Justine's gaze before ducking into Ash's arms as if frightened. "Ashie!" she mumbled. Just as always, Jenny was putting on a show again. Ash looked up with a glare. His eyes met Justine's, and the gentleness on his face dissipated, replaced by that all-too-familiar apathy and annoyance. Justine and Ash were married only because their parents had wanted them to be. She had lost her parents when she was three, though, and while she had been missing, Jenny had come out of nowhere and stolen Justine's identity. By the time Justine was finally found. Ash's mind had already been setâhe only cared for his "childhood friend". The seniors in the family had had to force him to take Justine's hand. Justine did not mind. The only thing she loved about Ash was his looks, but even that was beginning to wear thin. He seemed more and more like a stranger to her. - The elevator door shut. Justine thought their encounter was dramatic. Just imagine how much of a soap opera episode it would be like if she ran at Ash, slapped him, and then confronted Jenny! "Jean! When did you get here? I was just about to grab this medicine for you!" Justine turned to meet Iris Carr, her manager. She smiled and signed, "An expecting mother needed help." Iris studied her heart-stopping beauty and felt a pang in her heart. Justine was so gorgeous, kind, gentle, and an extraordinary dancer. She was a mute who outshone so many people Iris had known. She had even been the prima ballerina of a well-known ballet company, until⊠"Here. Your painkillers," Iris said, her eyes reddening slightly as she choked back a sob. "How could you just⊠injure your spine? You finally managed to become the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale! If you could just finish this tour, you could have..." Becoming the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale ballet company was the dream of countless dancers worldwide. And Justine had been considered after just one interviewâit was incredible! The tragedy weighed heavily on Iris. Justine had always been silent about her family matters, leading Iris to list her as orphaned on her resume, stating she had grown up in an orphanage. Over time, Iris had even come to believe it herself. The more she thought about it, the sadder she became. Justine smiled faintly, seemingly unaware of the sympathy in Iris' face, as she received the painkillers. A year ago, Ash's uncle had hired a hitman on his life. Justine's attempt to save him resulted in her spinal injury. Ash had found the best doctors money could buy and purchased expensive medical equipment for her. The medical team later concluded that her treatment was complete. Unfortunately, two months later, her old injury was aggravated while she was preparing for the tour. After another examination, Justine's career was essentially over. While the spinal injury wouldn't affect her daily life, she could no longer dance. Justine had informed Ash immediately, but he had yet to respond. Maybe he never cared. She had cried her heart out after returning from the hospital, but ultimately, she accepted her fate. This was not the end of the world. After some reflection, Justine decided to continue her tour. She would get treatment alongside it, determined to end her career as a ballet dancer on a high note. This evening's performance would be her last. However, that morning, she woke up to find her painkiller supply depleted. Justine squeezed the paper bag, her eyes feeling dry. It was as if she were a character in a soap opera. Meeting Ash and Jenny felt like a cruel joke. The pain in her spine flared slightly. Regret washed over her. If only she had never tried to save Ash. Instead, he survived long enough to become a villain, insulting the handsome face Justine once adored. She tucked the painkillers into her pocket and took out her phone. Her long lashes veiled the coldness in her eyes as she looked down at the screen. She then selected Ash's number, typed a message, and sent it immediately. - "Why was she in the OB-GYN, Ashie?" At the basement parking lot, Jenny subconsciously shielded her belly and added, "Could she be, you knowâŠ" "That's impossible," Ash replied firmly. Jenny looked away to hide her surprised glee. So Justine had never managed to sleep with him in all three years of marriage? Well, it wasn't that surprising. Everyone in Sol knew that, as a boy, Ash had almost been strangled to death by his mute and mentally ill mother. Traumatized, Ash harbored hatred for his birth motherâand for people who were mute like her. Thus, when his maternal grandparents forced him to marry Justine, it felt like a cruel joke aimed at Ash. There was no way he would ever sleep with her. Poor Justine! A laughingstock, was she not? So what if she was beautiful? What if she could perform some snobby, pretentious dance? Ash had still abandoned her. How could she ever compete with Jenny for Ash's heart? Jenny suppressed her glee and pretended to look sad. "Oh, Ashie⊠I bet the one person Justine hates the most is me. You are aware of what transpired. She nearly took my life when she returned to the Thorpes. And now she saw us at the OB-GYN," she said. "I should explain myself to her once I get back. I don't want her to throw another fitâ" "She won't," Ash interjected. Justine was his simp, always obeying his wishes. For years, there had been fabricated scandals circulating online about celebrities sleeping with him, yet Justine had never questioned him about any of it. She trusted himâlike a machine programmed to smile and serve him. "Don't overthink it, Jenny. She won't hurt you," he added. "I'll have someone escort you home safely." Jenny still looked like she was about to cry. She was on the verge of getting into Ash's car when she suddenly caught sight of Justine in the parking lot. Ash had assured her that everything would be fine, but what made him so certain? Jenny could never forget the day Justine chased her with a kitchen knife like a rabid dog. It was a true display of Justine's character. Did she really believe she could charm Ash into loving her by hiding her true nature? Did she think she could be Mrs. Vanderbilt forever? It was almost laughable. "Juju!" Jenny called out cheerfully. Justine had always hated that nickname and would go ballistic over it. What if she reacted that way again this time? Ash's expression darkened as he shot a brief glance at Justine, immediately noticing how thin she had become. Justine turned to them and nodded politely as if she had no idea who they were. She signed to the woman beside her, entered her ballet company's car, and drove away. Jenny gritted her teeth. She did not take the bait! She squeezed out some crocodile tears and grabbed Ash's sleeve. "Ashie, Ashie! Did you see that? She didn't even acknowledge us! This is all my fault! I shouldn't have come to you for help even if I have no one else to turn to⊠Because we were engaged before, so this had to look really bad⊠"Oh no, I'm the one who ruined your marriage! I should have just stayed with those guys!" she sobbed. Ash ignored her. He was fixated on what Justine had signed: "I don't know them. They mistook me for someone else." "Ashie, you gotta chase after her!" Jenny cried out as though she cared about preserving Ash and Justine's relationship. Ash was unfazed. He absent-mindedly glanced at the sleeve Jenny was grabbing and realized that Justine had bought this coat for him. She had won a ballet competition that day and used the prize money to purchase it, presenting it almost like a tribute. Ash yanked the sleeve away from Jenny. "I've told you. She won't mind." At that moment, his phone vibrated. Ash scanned the screen, and his eyes suddenly grew bitterly cold as the words leaped into view: [I want a divorce.] Chapter 2 At the Grand Theater of Sol. A towering man stood in the darkness where the audience gathered. He felt as cold as winter. His eyes were fixed on the stage as the Black Swan darted across it, agile and mesmerizing. The Black Swan's movements were fluid and firm, sensual and tempting. The man almost wished he could possess her right now. The performance was nearing its end, so the man turned away and strode toward the backstage. - The performance ended. Justine felt a quiet pain in her waist, but she gritted her teeth through the production. The crowd erupted in ovation. She took one last yearning glance at the stage and her adoring audience before returning backstage. Iris had been watching her every move with concern. "Is it hurting? I can cancel the fan meeting and photo session if you need it. You can rest in the breakroom, and once the rest of the performance is over, I'll come for you," Iris suggested. Justine waved reassuringly. Many of these fans had traveled all the way to Sol to see her performanceâto meet her. How could she let them down? Soon, the photo session concluded. After checking in with Justine, Iris left to direct the stage. Suddenly, Justine found herself alone. She looked around as memories flooded back. Ballet had been a part of her for as long as she could remember. Concerned that Justine's disability might hinder her job prospects, the orphanage's director had signed her up for ballet classes after discovering her talent, despite the lack of funding from the orphanage. All that hard work and dedication was gone like the wind because of her career-ending injury. How could anyone not feel regret? Justine removed her makeup and pressed her hand against her waist, trying to support it as she tiredly headed to the prima ballerina's room. It was dark inside. She reached for the light switch. Suddenly, from the shadows, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. Then, the door shut and locked behind her. Panic surged through Justine. The scent enveloping her was familiar. Why was Ash there? Before she could answer her own question, he pressed his lips forcefully against hers. More kisses followed, violent and punishing. Justine wanted to shove him away, but Ash was a hulking mass of angry muscle, dominating her completely. Fear surged as she bit his tongue, tasting blood, but he didn't stop. Jenny had no idea how wrong she was about Justine and Ash's life. Their marriage had been consummated quickly, thanks to the "intervention" of some elders. Although Ash might resent Justine's existence, he was undeniably addicted to her body. They had known each other for so long and so well that they instinctively understood how to arouse and please one another. This knowledge was etched into their flesh, a part of their movements. Justine's thoughts spiraled into chaos. Suddenly, she felt a bite on her shoulder. She could tell Ash was upset just from the strengthâand it irritated her. What was his problem?! He had always wanted this divorce! he had signed the paper with his name on the day of their wedding! With Justine gone, he would finally be able to marry the woman he really wanted, right? So why is he angry now? Because she was the one who had suggested it instead of him? The backstage was starting to fill with people. She could even hear one of the assistant artistic directors rushing past her room. If anyone were to knockâor even openâher door, Justine would be famous in the scene for the worst reason possible! Justine bit her lips, forcing herself not to let out even a should. Unfortunately, this only made Ash more beastly. He hated silence, so he did everything he could to make her scream and yelp. - The light was on, bright and blinding. Ash sat languidly on the couch, his shirt and suit surprisingly neat. In contrast, Justine's expensive ballet dress lay torn. After a shower, she slipped into an oversized practice garment while Ash glared at her. "A divorce?" he asked, cutting straight to the chase. It was difficult to discern his emotions from his voice. Justine studied himâhe was still as handsome as ever, but gone was the youthful, teenage look she once loved. In its place stood an indifferent, reserved man in a suit. Her eyes no longer sparkled with admiration and yearning when she looked at him. She nodded firmly. Ash snickered. "What? Because of Jenny?" For some reason, the thought of Justine exploding over his affair with Jenny excited him. Unfortunately, she simply shook her head determinedly. "I don't love you anymore," she signed. "That's why I want a divorce." Reality shattered Ash's fleeting excitement. Her straightforwardness left no room for ambiguityâshe didn't even hint at clinging. His mind went blank. Suddenly, he recalled that rainy night many years ago when that woman had pushed him into the mud, signing furiously, "I don't love you anymore! I am not your mother! You are disgusting, just like your father! Go away! I don't want to see you anymore!" It felt as though all emotions had drained from him. Ash rose and glared at Justine frostily. "Suit me just fine. You stole this marriage from Jenny back then, anyway. She finally gets what's always been hers." "Congratulations," Justine signed earnestly. Ash was stunned. He had not expected that from her. He remembered Jenny begging Justine not to take him away when Justine had taken out a lipstick and written on the wall, right in front of their parents, 'He is mine, and only mine!' The same woman⊠just congratulated Jenny. Rage inexplicably flared within him. Granted, this marriage should have ended sooner. It had been delayed because she had saved his life while sustaining grievous injuries a year ago, but now she was the one requesting a divorce. That worked to Ash's advantage, right? He had no reason to be mad. "My lawyer will contact you tomorrow at noon to finalize our divorce," he said. Justine nodded. Surprisingly, she felt not a hint of sadness or longing. "Good. We can announce our divorce at the family dinner tomorrow evening," she signed. Ash looked away from her. she had this all planned out, hadn't she? It was as if she could not wait to have every tie with him severed. Chapter 3 Ash sneered and went through the door. Justine watched his hulking frame, suddenly recalling hazy memories of her teenage past: a younger version of him, tall and lean, with his back against her. Despite her earlier calm, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. "JustineâŠ" He had stopped by the door and turned to face her. "I no longer answer to my grandfather, Justine. So there's zero chance of you going back to being my wife after this. Don't regret it. "And most importantlyâdon't give Jenny trouble. You've tormented her enough." Ash understood how obsessive her love had been. Justine's life was so devoid of meaning that the only two things she had were ballet and him. This was why Ash was convinced that Justine's sudden change of attitude stemmed from spite after seeing Jenny. Once she calmed down, he was sure she would regret this decision. His job was to ensure her regret was futile. She could no longer return to himâand he would never accept her. Justine was kind and courteous to everyone except Jenny. Ash had never managed to protect her well enoughâthe poor girl had endured much of Justine's wrath. That was why he was determined not to let Jenny suffer for him any longer, no matter how hysterical Justine could be. "Trust me, Mr. Vanderbilt. You should say this to her," Justine signed, her eyes gentle as always. "She should not mess with me." Otherwise, Jenny would suffer worse. - Justine was nothing if not determined. When Ash was her prize, no oneânot could have gotten in her way. But now that she wanted him out of her life, she wouldn't shed a tear for him. After Ash left, Justine cleaned up the room. She picked up the torn pieces of her favorite ballet dress. It had been tailor-made for herâa piece of luxury she had won in an international competition. Fixing it would require a lot of money. She had to demand compensation for it in the divorce agreement! Just then, she heard Iris' voice from outside. "Jean? Are you up?" The performances had ended a while ago. Iris had arrived earlier, but the light in the room had been off, so she had assumed Justine had been sleeping. Justine lit a lavender candle, and once the stench of Ash's intrusion faded, she opened the door. "It's over?" she signed. "Other troupes have all left except for your group! Everyone's waiting for you at the party," Iris replied, doing her best to mask her sadness. Yes, it was a party, all rightâa farewell party. Suddenly, Justine's phone rang, startling her. Few people ever called her phone. Those who knew her preferred video calls. But this was an audio call. "Looks like a landline number," Iris murmured. She quickly looked it up on the Internet. "That's⊠Eudaimonia Home in Saintwood. Why is a nursing home calling you at this hour?" Justine answered the call before Iris finished her explanation. "Is this Justine Thorpe? Good evening. This is Eudaimonia Home. Mrs. Aurora Roch hasn't been feeling too well for the past two days. If you can, please come here as soon as possible. She would like to meet you." Justine was shocked. - The trip took three hours, and it was already one in the morning when Justine arrived. The nurse who had called her led Justine to Aurora's room. "She's been expecting you," the young woman said. The sight of a sickly, bony woman on a sickbed greeted Justine. Aurora had once been the director of Glascape Orphanage and had been a mother figure who raised Justine. She was the one who had recognized the potential ballerina in her and let her shine. Three years ago⊠While suffering from an incurable disease, Justine's grandfather found her in the orphanage and wanted her to return home. Justine refusedâuntil some bloggers discovered Glascape Island. The rustic beauty of the fishing town quickly spread across the Internet, attracting several corporations eager to transform it into a tourist destination. At that critical moment, Aurora was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Justine faced a difficult choice. She needed money to prevent the island's purchase and save Aurora. Thus, she approached her grandfather and agreed to a deal. Soon after, Aurora informed Justine that she had contacted a hospital abroad where she would receive treatment. They parted ways but promised to stay in touch. "The treatment went well," she would say. "I met someone I love in the wonderful continent of Aestra. I would like to spend my last few years there." Justine believed her. Aurora had discovered her stomach cancer at an early stage, so her chances of recovery were high. Justine sincerely hoped Aurora was living happily out there, free from any shackles. Then Justine decided to marry Ash. That was when Aurora suddenly came to see her. They had a big argument, and afterward, Aurora stopped contacting Justine. - For years, Justine had been trying to locate Aurora. She would ask around and chase down leads, but she never managed to find herâuntil today. On her way to the hospital, the nurse provided details about Aurora's illness. The cancer cells had been spreading even back when they had their fight. "Jean, is that you?" Aurora's voice sounded familiar and foreign at the same time. Justine approached her, choking back tears. Aurora examined her face and smiled. "Oh, Jean. You're even more beautiful now!" she whispered. Justine studied her in disbelief. Suffering had taken so much from her. Aurora was left with nothing but bones and skin! Justine could not help but cry. "I thought you found someone you love! A-And you're spending your last days somewhere in Aestra!" Justine signed slowly. "So why are you here? Why are you⊠dying?" Aurora's eyes reddened. "I'm so sorry. I lied." Justine cast her eyes at Aurora's face, shakily holding her hands. She pressed her forehead against the back of Aurora's handsâjust like she used to when she was a child. But there was no warmth left in Aurora's hands. They were frighteningly cold. "Love, you're all grown up now. You have to⊠learn to accept death⊠Mine⊠and Ares'..." Ares⊠Justine felt her blood freeze. Memories flooded herâit was a beautiful day. A young man ran across the white waves as they rolled. He laughed and turned back to her, his smile brighter than the sun. "Come over here for a hug, Little Justine!" he had called. Pain coursed through Justineâs limbs. She met Aurora's gaze, her eyes brimming with tears of agony. Chapter 4 Aurora knew exactly what was on her mind. She had raised this child, after all. Half a year after Ares' death, the Thorpe family located Justine in Glascape. Aurora hadn't wanted to be separated from the young woman, but Justine's worsening mental state had made her reconsider. Justine had taken it poorly, wasting all her time searching for news about a man who was already dead. She had been a woman possessedâeveryone feared she would become more self-destructive. Aurora had hoped that sending Justine away to a new place with her original family might help her move on. That was why she had accepted the Thorpes' offer. Thus, Justine returned to Sol. Who would have thought Justine would marry someone not long after? Aurora knew how much Justine had loved Ares. There was no way she could have accepted another man in her life so soonâlet alone a husband. Fearing it was a political marriage of convenience at the cost of her child's agency, Aurora had rushed to Sol. That was when she met Ash Vanderbilt. The young man had just returned from studying abroad. Most terrifying, though, was how much he resembled Ares physically. The only difference between them was the feeling they evoked. Justine had gone mad! She had latched onto Ash as if he were her last hope, utterly convinced in her denial that Ash Vanderbilt was an amnesiac Ares Vance. Any mention of the truthâAres' deathâwould send Justine into uncontrollable hysteria. So why was she so different today? Why was she looking at Aurora with such crushing dejection in her eyes⊠without a single retort of denial? "Y-You know⊠he's not him, d-don't you?" Aurora whispered shakily. Justine nodded tearfully. Of course, she knew! Ahhh, Ash could not muster even the smallest amount of the kindness Ares had so effortlessly displayed. However, back then, Justine could not bear the thought of living in a world without Ares. She had deluded herself, clinging to an impostor, surviving through Ash's superficial semblance of him. How else could she have lived this long? But Ash... was a disappointment. He wore those suits so frequently now that it had become harder and harder to see Ares' ghost in him. Aurora let out a pained sob. "No, no, no. How cruel has he been to youâŠ" How cruel had Ash been to Justine? How much hurt had she endured to break a spell so ingrained in her? What had it taken for Justine to admit she had been living in a delusion? The implication stabbed Aurora like a knife. The equipment connected to her began to beep shrillily in alarm. Justine panicked. She was about to call the nurse when Aurora suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Jean⊠once I'm gone, you're not bound to anyone in this world anymore⊠Do you understand me?" she croaked. "Leave them. Go home. L-Live⊠your life... You are free, Jean." Justine nodded frantically, pressing the emergency button over and over. Aurora's breathing grew erratic, but her eyes were fixed on Justine. She could not leave just yet. Her precious girl was still there, all alone. No one would stand for her. No one would speak for her. Alone. "J-Jean..." she whispered one last time, holding Justine's hand. "C-Call me..." Justine trembled. "Call me... M-Mom..." Aurora exhausted all her strength. Her body collapsed into Justine's arms, her breath short. The old woman was hyperventilating, looking at Justine with a pleading gaze. Justine had not been born mute. It was traumaâfrom before her time in the orphanageâthat had caused her mutism. Aurora had taken her to countless specialists, but the effects of the treatments had been discouragingly small. Now, all Justine could hear was the ringing in her ears. She nodded vigorously and opened her mouth, trying to force out a sound. Her throat felt strange. Panic welled inside her. Time seemed to slow. All she could produce was silence. The nurses rushed into the room, and Justine felt herself being pulled away from Aurora. Chaos surrounded her, accompanied by the incessant ringing in her ears. It wasn't until she heard the long beep from the machine that the ringing finally subsided. One of the nurses gently closed Aurora's eyes. She had been watching Justine until the very end. Then, they covered her pain-twisted face with a piece of white cloth. It was not the first corpse Justine had ever seen. The first time was at a funeral home in Glascape. Aurora had howled, her voice thick with tears, "Ares! no, no!" 'You see this, Ares? You loved me so much, and yet I wasn't there when you ended your life. I never even visited you once in so many years. 'She raised me, right? She just wanted me to call her Mom. And I couldn't even do that. 'I'm a terrible person,' Justine thought. - Aurora had left notes for her burial. There was to be no funeral. She wanted to be cremated immediately. She had also appointed Justine to decide what to do with her ashes and belongings. As Aurora was pushed into the crematory, the nurse who had cared for her the longest collapsed to her knees in tears, howling. But Justine could only watch in cursed silence. Her lips were pale as she tried to call out to Aurora in her mind. - The first snow had arrived on Sol. Ash's meeting had just ended. Robin Letto, his secretary, rushed to his side. "Mr. Vanderbilt! Ms. Pearce said she can't seem to contact Mrs. Vanderbilt," she said hesitantly, too afraid to even breathe too loudly. Ashâs mood had been in the gutters today. It was as if the air itself could freeze around him. Logically, after regaining full control over the family business and outmaneuvering his uncles, Ash should have been overjoyed. Yet, he was the exact opposite. Ash frowned. "Fine." He expected her to regret it, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Now, divorce was back on the table. Despite Ash's thoughts, there was a renewed spring in his step, something even he failed to notice. Nearby, Robin acutely sensed the change in his demeanor. His mood, unexpectedly, seemed to have improved. Ash returned to his office and booted up his laptop. The document he had been working on appeared on the screen: the divorce agreement. He had been revising the terms of the compensation Justine was entitled to receive. The offers were generous. The money alone would be enough for her to live comfortably for a lifetime. He had purchased a property for her abroad. Knowing she had been accepted as the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale, he had bought her a villa in Voue, the capital city of Charlemagne, where the ballet company was based. To Ash, these gestures were his way of expressing gratitude for saving his life. - At noon, a meticulously dolled-up Jenny stepped into Ash's car, and they drove to a Michelin-starred restaurant she had been eager to visit for ages. Grinning sweetly, she cooed, "Ngaww, I don't know what came over me! I just had to eat at this restaurant! You're such a gem, Ashie!" Ash smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're happy." Jenny nodded firmly. "Of course I am! You're always so nice to me." She hesitated for a moment. "Um⊠Did Justine⊠you knowâŠ" Ash's smile faded. "Let's just eat." Jenny felt a surge of satisfaction at his darkened expression at the mere mention of Justine. Lunch soon ended, and Ash needed to return to work. "I've kept you long enough, Ashie! Good luck with work!" she said brightly. "I'm off to meet my friends for afternoon tea!" Ash briefly glanced at her belly. "Please take care of yourself." "Of course!" she chirped, waving him off. Once he was out of sight, Jenny's smile disappeared. The innocence drained from her expression as she dialed a number. "Hey. Are you sure Justine will be at the Thierry family's soiree?" she asked. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14797&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=14797&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/t39.35426-6/465733853_502380432950668_5964851641982863637_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=A1QE5kntgsoQ7kNvgHUWajf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYAJAEDjCV-yg6RUB3iWKJrJpPw9BLNBrY4Pp879ISgiIA&oe=674D8163 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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â€ïžđ click to read on đ | Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husbandâs mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her motherâs life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husbandâs past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancĂ©e, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Rileyâs brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancĂ©e?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&u | Happyday | https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ | 1,416 | 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=15430&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/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HyFbXpM4eTkQ7kNvgF55HOW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgN7mxsrt16m_YsxbLZmI58&oh=00_AYDJpfOVa2Q5SSqKe_bk5WSmCzHZ_MnQkILKzyBFqlHkCw&oe=674D83B4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Happyday | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:39 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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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/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=N2TfvO9Lp40Q7kNvgEUdPwR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgN7mxsrt16m_YsxbLZmI58&oh=00_AYBEBa2K2pRFH4Pb9K7vVL1OMpqHglqVmEhkYN2YwFixkA&oe=674D832E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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â€ïžđ click to read on đ | Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husbandâs mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her motherâs life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husbandâs past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancĂ©e, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Rileyâs brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancĂ©e?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&u | Happyday | https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ | 1,416 | 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=15430&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/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HyFbXpM4eTkQ7kNvgF55HOW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgN7mxsrt16m_YsxbLZmI58&oh=00_AYDJpfOVa2Q5SSqKe_bk5WSmCzHZ_MnQkILKzyBFqlHkCw&oe=674D83B4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Happyday | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | 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 with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she 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." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, 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." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren 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 the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463462002_1086746086214673_140892699331581138_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pYenWZtZleQQ7kNvgFtpmfk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMMWvBoSe5XmW65H7LbzbOr&oh=00_AYB8EVMpN65khQkazxdWd-qCRuw2FOvcvoh5ILQ_Oj1Qjg&oe=674D9703 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | âStrip.â The one who commanded me was the very man I had loved. âDidn't you hear me? I said strip.â My husband, Caleb repeated, a smirk on his li-ps. I lowered my head, my hands trembling. Tears gathered at the corner of my eyes as I gingerly stepped backwards, subconsciously trying to run away. âStop her and help her remove her clothes if she doesn't want to do it herself.â Caleb said to the security guards who stood behind me. They came forward and held me by my arms, twisting it to my back and forcing me to kneeel down. âWhy?â I asked, âWhy are you doing this to me?â My throat constricted. âWhy?â Caleb tilted his head, âYou were the one who forced my grandfather to make me get married to you. If it was for you, I would have gotten married to Emily. Now, you have to face the consequences of what you did!â Caleb said hatefully and forcefully raised my chin up, motioning for a man to bring over a bottle of wine. My eyes widened as I realized what he wanted to do. âCaleb, please, you know I can't drink that. I beg you, please let me go. Please.â I begged, but it was to no avail. My vision blurred as I choked, gasping for air in between sobs. âWasn't that good enough?â Caleb questioned, âNow that wasn't so bad after all.â âCaleb⊠YouâŠâ I began coughing, my eyes were getting blurry, it was hard to see their faces. A sharp pain went through my stomach and I gasped. My baby... âC⊠Caleb⊠My⊠my stomach. It hurts.â I gasped again as the pain spread to my spine. I thought I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes, but I was deluding myself. Caleb didn't care, he had never cared. But I still needed help, the pain was almost unbearable now. âNo. No!â I cried out as I realized exactly what was happening. I looked back at Caleb who knew that I was having a miscar-riage, I thought he would help me even upon seeing that. But once again, I was wrong. He stepped back, looking at the blood in disgust. Then the world turned black. --------- âAh!â I gasped, shaking awake. âYou shouldn't move like that, you'll open your stitches.âThe one with shorter hair and gold rimmed glasses said to me. âItâs...you..â I stammered, all the cells in my body were screaming. Zade Silver, my ex boyfriend. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15016&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 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15016&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/t39.35426-6/464456042_1979851562482664_990634671024687959_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zrx2_-jkVtAQ7kNvgF6GQGX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMMWvBoSe5XmW65H7LbzbOr&oh=00_AYBH_sOJloU9Ypbd0vxWoovMo1TyNG_T2AMF9xk2n4P2pA&oe=674D9337 | 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 19:43 | 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. The dim light made his skin glow, adding a hint of iciness to his already cold demeanor. 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." She stared at him and almost lost her grip on her glass. Her throat seemed to hurt more now. He didn't explain himself. All he said was, "You can ask for whatever you want. I won't shortchange you." Liesel's heart clenched, but she soon regained her composure. "We can discuss this if this is because you left to pick Natalie up two months ago." "It's not." He looked at her, his gaze aloof. "This is a loveless marriage, Liesel. There's no point in keeping it going." It was true that the marriage alliance between the Ford and Sharp families had never been the one Jacob had hoped for. Liesel was the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, but he'd never wanted to marry her. Their accidental encounter that night was the only thing that had made him choose to take responsibility for her. Liesel lowered her eyes and said slowly, "Alright. All I want is the house at Northview Garden, and I won't quit my job after the divorce." Her mother, Heather Mallone, had left the house for her. For whatever reason, it had ended up in the Ford family's hands and become one of her wedding gifts. As for her career, she'd worked hard and built a network within Ford Corporation. She couldn't allow the divorce to wipe her efforts away. Jacob didn't object. He looked at her and said, "Okay. Anything else?" "No." Liesel shook her head. "If it bothers you, I can move out tomorrow." He seemed surprised by how accommodating she was. He cautioned her calmly, "Make sure you've thought this through, Liesel. I don't want there to be anything between us after the divorce." "Don't worry about that." She smiled. He seemed to want to say something else, but his phone rang. He answered it and hung up shortly after. Then, he said, "I have something else to do. I'll get a lawyer to talk to you about the divorce." Soon after he left, Liesel saw a trending topic on him and Natalie showing up together somewhere. In hindsight, fate was such a twisted thing. Back then, Heather could not tolerate even the slightest flaw in her marriage. After learning about Natalie's existence, she forced her husband, Jeffrey Sharp, to send Natalie to the countryside so she could grow up there. Less than two years after Heather's death, Jeffrey had remarried, turning Liesel into a joke. Natalie had also been brought back from the countryside. Fate loved playing jokes on everyoneâno one would've expected Natalie to be the one who held Jacob's heart. ⊠Liesel only woke up the following noon. Her cold was much better now. A lawyer brought her the divorce agreement, making sure to go through the allocation of assets. Jacob truly hadn't shortchanged her. Aside from the house at Northview Garden, he'd also given her some other real estate. The lawyer said, "Sign here if you don't have any objection to the clauses, Ms. Sharp." Liesel nodded and signed the agreement without hesitation. The divorce would take some more time to finalize, though. Jacob was busy, so Liesel didn't get to see him at all. She reminded the lawyer, "Please tell Mr. Ford to expedite the finalization of the divorce if he's not too busy. Dragging this out won't do any of us favors." After settling the divorce, Liesel moved out of her and Jacob's marital home. Chelsea heard about this and invited her out for coffee. "You know about Natalie, right? She studied hard in the countryside after being banished by your mother and later got into a good university. Jacob ran into her at Alden University when he went there to give a talk." Chelsea snorted. She continued, "I heard Natalie was really in awe of him; it helped that she was so hardworking and optimistic. Your father was desperate to matchmake them, you know. But here's the questionâwhy would someone as wonderful as her not realize what a contemptible move it is to ruin someone's marriage?" Chelsea had always been defensive of people she counted as her own, and she scorned those who knowingly got involved with people who had significant others. The fact that Natalie was an illegitimate child only made Chelsea despise her more. Liesel looked unfazed, though. "It's all in the past now. Jacob and I are already divorced, so she's not really ruining the marriage." She chuckled. She had mixed feelings about the whole thing. "Besides, it's not like Jacob and I ever had feelings for each other." She lowered her gaze and suddenly remembered the first time she and Jacob had met. The year Heather had died, she'd caused one of Jeffrey's business deals to fall through. She'd been overjoyed and had dragged Chelsea out for a celebration. After the celebration, she'd refused to let go of a handsome man she'd latched onto. They'd both had too much to drink and had ended up in bed. It was only later that she'd learned he was Jacob Ford, her fiancĂ©. Rumor had it that he'd never wanted to marry her, but he'd looked at her the following morning and said, "I'm willing to take responsibility for this, Liesel. What about you?" He'd proposed marriage. Liesel had looked at him, and a rare moment of rashness had taken over her. She'd said, "Let's do it." To tell the truth, there wasn't anything bad about Jacob. He didn't love her but had never played the field or slept around with other women. He was also calm and level-headed, considerate and gentle. She didn't even have any complaints about their adventures in bed. But things had changed after he'd run into Natalie at Alden University two months ago. Chelsea looked at Liesel while feeling bitter. The latter hadn't said anything, but Chelsea knew how she felt. Judging from Liesel's personality, there was no way she would've settled for Jacob for so long if she didn't have feelings for him. "Maybe you should go back to Shifter Corporation, Lili. Why continue suffering at Ford Corporation? I feel nauseous at the thought of those two pieces of trash being there." Liesel had always been prideful and stubborn. After Heather's death, she'd used whatever she'd inherited to set up Shifter Corporation, wanting to compete with the Sharp family's company. However, she'd left it in the hands of Heather's friend, Jonathan Shifter. The outside world only knew it as Jonathan's company. "Marriage is marriage, and work is work," Liesel said. "I'm not going to give up on my career over a failed marriage." That was what she thoughtâit was also what Jacob had promised her. But when she headed to work the next day, she discovered she'd been transferred from her position as his secretary to the project department manager. Chapter 2 Liesel had taken a week of sick leave. She'd only learned about the transfer when returning to work. A colleague gossiped with her, sounding pointed as they said, "I bet you still don't know this, Ms. Sharp. We have a new secretary whose last name is also Sharp. It looks like there's something special about her." Liesel didn't expect to hear that. Had Jacob actually given Natalie a job by his side? Soon, Jacob summoned Liesel to the CEO's office. When she entered and stood before him, he looked at her indifferently. "Since you want to stay at the company, continuing to hold the position of my personal secretary isn't appropriate. "The project department manager was transferred to a branch company, leaving a vacancy there. The timing is just right." Liesel knew very well that Jacob had always been clear-headed. He would never allow her to cause Natalie any discomfort or disappointment. Rather than saying the transfer was his recognition of Liesel's abilities, it would be more accurate to say he merely didn't want Natalie to misunderstand. "Okay," Liesel said. He frowned slightly and said, "Natalie hasn't seen much of the world since she's just graduated. You should give her more guidance." Liesel didn't say no. Setting everything else aside, she did need to hand over the work she had in handâit was her responsibility as an employee. She headed downstairs, running into Natalie on her way. The latter was a rookie and a greenhorn, so some of the veterans had tricked her into buying them over a dozen cups of coffee. She hurried around with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, looking obedient yet silly. She faltered when she saw Liesel. "Lieâ" She seemed to think of something and stuck out her tongue. "Ms. Liesel." Liesel frowned at her and said, "You're here as Mr. Ford's secretary, not to run errands. Set the coffee aside and come with me." Natalie paled. Still, she did as told and followed Liesel. Everyone else in the department settled down. Liesel had no intention of picking on Natalie. After all, banishing the latter to the countryside again wouldn't bring Heather back to life. Besides, before her death, Heather had already lost interest in being mad at the Sharp family. "These are the most recently saved files. This is a list of things to pay attention to when working with Mr. Ford, and this is his latest schedule," Liesel said. "Avoid wearing too many accessories during work unless necessary for a gathering or business meeting. "As a secretary, what's more important is your ability to think on your feet and react to whatever that's happened." Natalie blinked as a light blush spread across her cheeks. "Is this one not allowed, too? Mr. Ford gave this to me, and I quite like it. Can't I wear it?" Liesel's gaze flitted past the necklace she wore. It took her aback for a split second. She'd like that particular necklace for some time. Once, Jacob had nonchalantly asked her, "Do all little ladies like accessories like that?" It turned out he was getting it for Natalie. "That's up to you." Liesel lowered her gaze to conceal the emotions in her eyes. Her tone remained calm as she continued, "It's fine as long as it doesn't affect your work." Natalie smiled sweetly without saying anything else. Liesel showed her the ropes and gave her a run-through of the overall workflow. When she was done, Natalie said, "I get the feeling that you don't really like me, Liesel. Is it because of Mr. Ford?" Liesel looked at her. She didn't avert her gaze. Instead, she just smiled and continued, "It's hard to tell who's wrong and right when it comes to matters of the heartâit was the same with my mother and our father. Whatever it is, I still want to be friends with youâŠ" "Natalie." Liesel stopped her there. "Morals and ethics still bind all matters of the heart. You wouldn't have been banished to the countryside if not for that. Do only what you must, and stop thinking everyone around you is a fool." Jeffrey had had an affair, which led to Natalie's birth. Even if Heather was already dead, Liesel didn't think she could shamelessly forgive Natalie's mother on Heather's behalf, let alone allow Natalie to do the forgiving. What right did Natalie have to talk about right or wrong? Liesel turned and left. She returned to her office and texted Jacob. "Do you have time to get the divorce settled today, Mr. Ford? Let's get that divorce certificate." He didn't stand her up. They met at the courthouse at 2:00 pm. Liesel signed whatever papers she needed to and looked at him. "It's all ready. Your turn to sign." She hadn't had time to change her outfit before leaving the office, so she still wore a professional-looking women's suit. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, which framed her aloof yet delicate face. She looked beautiful. Jacob watched her for a while before looking away. "You seem to be in quite a rush." "Hmm? No, I'm not," Liesel answered after a beat. "We've already signed the papers. There's no point in dragging this out." He didn't say anything else and quickly signed. After they got their divorce certificates and left the courthouse, Jacob looked at her. "All better now?" "Yep." She nodded. She was about to leave when he got in his car and rolled down the window. "I'll drop you back." Liesel hesitated. She was about to turn him down when a wave of nausea washed over her, making her retch. When she returned to her senses, she saw Jacob watching her with narrowed eyes. "Are you conceived?" Her heart sank. It had been a month since they'd last slept. He'd been rather rough that night and hadn't used any protection. But things couldn't be that coincidental, right? Could she have gotten conceived from that one time? She clenched her fists. "I can't be." He was about to say something else when his phone rang. He answered it. When he hung up, his brows were furrowed. "I have work to do." He looked at her pointedly. "We can't have children, Liesel. I hope this is just a coincidence." Liesel's heart clenched, but she didn't say anything. Throughout her and Jacob's three-year marriage, they'd always been careful with preventive measures. That time a month ago was the only time neither of them had done anything. But how could she have conceived so easily? She pushed the thought out of her mind and took a cab back to the company. When she arrived, she noticed the tension in the air. A colleague leaned close to her and whispered in trepidation, "There's been a problem with the products from Hardin Group. That new secretary signed the papers during the handover without checking the stock properly." Liesel frowned. She'd deliberately reminded Natalie to check everything before signing for them. It didn't help that Hardin Group was more cunning than others. This wasn't their first time trying to pull something like this. Shortly after, her assistant came and said, "Mr. Ford wants to see you, Ms. Sharp." Liesel pushed open the door to Jacob's office. Natalie stood inside. Her nose was red, and she was biting her lip. She looked pitiful yet adorable. Her words made Liesel frown, though. "I'm sorry, Jake. I had no idea I needed to check everything when accepting the stock. Ms. Liesel did tell me to check the items but didn't caution me that Hardin Group would be so cunning. It's all my faultâŠ" Jacob looked at Liesel coldly. "Nat's just graduated, so she knows nothing about these things. You know very well what Hardin Group is capable of. Why didn't you give her a heads-up?" Chapter 3 Liesel's heart twinged slightly, but she said calmly, "I reminded Ms. Natalie about the stock handover. The office has surveillance cameras. You can check the footage if you don't believe me, Mr. Ford." Natalie paled. Tears welled in her eyes, and she said pitifully, "I-I probably didn't hear you because my mind wandered. That's why I made such a mistake." Liesel ignored her. "We can't let Hardin Group manipulate us for stocks worth millions. I'll handle this, but the company also has rules to uphold. Natalie will need to be reprimanded accordingly." She turned and left the office to check on the stocks. Now that they'd already been accepted, from a legal perspective, Ford Corporation had no choice but to swallow its woes and live with the situation. Still, there was hope for this. Uriah Hardin, the third son of the Hardin family, managed Hardin Group. However, his brother, Elijah Hardin, was the second son and favored by his family. He also wanted to usurp Uriah's position. If she could turn this matter into a power play, she could turn the tables on Hardin Group. At 8:00 pm, Liesel and Elijah met at a restaurant. His roguish, flippant look landed on her. "Have you invited the wrong man, Ms. Sharp? I'm not the one who calls the shots at Hardin Group, nor am I interested in you." Liesel was beautiful but too boring in his eyes. He liked his women obedient and gentle. They were cuter that way. Liesel ignored his words and placed a document before him. "These are some of the tracks Mr. Uriah has left in the industry over the years, Mr. Elijah. I won't beat around the bushâI don't believe you're uninterested in Hardin Group. Take him down, and this deal with Ford Corporation will be yours." The flippant look in Elijah's eyes faded away. He narrowed his eyes and appraised her with interest. His mother wasn't his father, Richard Hardin's first wife, and Richard favored Uriah over him. But was there anyone in the Hardin family who didn't want to have something to do with the company? After a long silence, he drawled, "What's in it for you if I take him down?" "I need you to switch out the subpar products Hardin Group has just supplied to Ford Corporation. Cooperating with you is also good for us because you don't pull dirty tricks." Liesel didn't mind pulling a few tricks when doing business, but Uriah's methods were too lowbrow. She was scornful of him. Elijah looked at her. Then, he raised his glass and said meaningfully, "I hope things will work out the way you wish, Ms. Sharp." A few tables away, Jacob's assistant, Jesse Lane, noticed Liesel. In a low voice, he told Jacob, "Ms. Sharp is here, too, Mr. Ford." Jacob followed his line of sight and frowned slightly. Elijah had a reputation for being a dandyâwhat was Liesel doing with him? Liesel didn't notice Jacob. She and Elijah soon ended their discussion; Jesse approached her then. He said, "Mr. Ford is waiting for you, Ms. Sharp." Elijah glanced at him before turning back to Liesel. "You should consider joining Hardin Group if you ever get sick of being at Ford Corporation, Ms. Sharp. We always know a good thing when we see it." A woman with nothing but good looks would quickly become boring, but she would be a valuable resource if she were beautiful and brainy. Liesel didn't respond to Elijah's words. Instead, she politely bid him farewell before following Jesse to Jacob's car. It was 11:00 pm, and the night breeze was rather chilly. Liesel's lips were a little pale as she got into the car. She lowered her eyes, and her wrists were briefly exposed underneath her suit jacket. It made her seem rather weak and pitiful. Jacob frowned. He'd never noticed her being this skinny. "Have you settled the problem with Hardin Group?" She nodded, looking tired. "Yeah. Elijah is harder to deal with than Uriah, but he's already agreed to switch out the subpar products. We'll just need to send someone to handle the handover." Jacob's gaze flitted past her. "Natalie is young and naive. You can't completely blame her for this." Liesel paused before saying softly, "You're Ford Corporation's CEO. It's up to you how you want to handle her." Natalie was young, huh? She'd been even younger than Natalie when joining Ford Corporation, but Jacob had never cut her any slack. "I've yet to tell Grandpa about the divorce," he said, switching the subject. Vincent Ford had been recuperating at home these past years and couldn't be aggravated. Even if Liesel and Jacob had never been the most loving couple, Vincent probably still couldn't handle the news of their divorce. Liesel looked down. "Got it. I'll tell him about this when the time is right." Jacob didn't say anything else. Liesel had had a bit to drink without eating anything. After a while, she curled up in her seat and drifted off. Her face was pale. When Jacob noticed something was wrong with her, he frowned. He was about to instruct Jesse to take them to the hospital when she woke up. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice hoarse. He said, "I'm taking you to the hospital." Liesel's heart skipped a beat as she thought of something. However, she kept her tone nonchalant and said, "There's no need for that. My stomach just feels a little upset. I'll be fine after resting at home." Jacob looked at her. His gaze was deep and sharp. It was as if he could read her thoughts. After a while, he said, "Fine." She relaxed. Back home, she called Chelsea and said a little grimly, "Buy me a test." ⊠The following day, Liesel was supposed to attend a welcome-back party for Alex Stone, one of her and Jacob's mutual friends. Alex had called her before his return to invite her to the party. Perhaps it was because he'd heard about the divorce and wanted to help them reconcile. The party was already in full swing when Liesel arrived. She heard Alex's voice through the door. "Have you and Liesel really divorced? Was it because of Natalie?" Liesel faltered, her hand on the doorknob. After a pause, Jacob said, "It has nothing to do with Natalie. Liesel and I aren't a good match." "Tsk. How are you two not a good match?" Alex asked. "I think Liesel is fantastic. She's pretty, intelligent, and has won many people's recognition at Ford Corporation. Why are you so obsessed with Natalie? Don't forget that Liesel saved you in the past. Sometimes, some things are just too little, too late." He'd met Natalie before and could tell she was nothing but a young woman with a few tricks up her sleeve. She couldn't compare to Liesel. Liesel had managed to save Jacob from the hands of his abductors. How could someone like Natalie compare to her bravery and determination? Jacob would have much to regret if he and Liesel really were to divorce. This time, Jacob remained silent for a longer time. Then he said, "You can't force matters of the heart." Liesel lowered her eyes and slowly clenched her fists. Alex stopped trying to change Jacob's mind. Instead, he said, "You'd better think this through. You may not like her, but plenty of others do." Liesel didn't linger. She texted Alex on WhatsApp and told him she wasn't attending the party because she had to attend to something else. Then, she asked Chelsea out. Chelsea gave her the test and asked hesitantly, "You're not really conceived, are you, Lili?" Chapter 4 Liesel held the test tightly. "I'm not sure yet." Her period had yet to come this month, and the retching from before⊠She suspected something was up. "What are you going to do if you are?" Chelsea looked at her hesitantly. "Will Jacob accept it?" Liesel dropped her gaze. Jacob would never want a child she'd brought into the world. Besides, they were already divorcedâit was bad for them both if she were to keep the child⊠even if it was one she'd longed for in the past. After a long silence, she said, "No, he won't. There's no point in keeping lingering attachments or forcing someone to do something against their will. If I'm conceived, I'll lose the baby." She'd waited for a baby that hadn't come over the past three years. Now, it was long past the time for that. Liesel was in a bad mood, so she didn't do the test on the spot. Instead, she and Chelsea had some drinks. Well, she only had a sip or two of a drink with the lowest possible wine content. She only remembered the test when she arrived at the company the following day. She headed to the bathroom and did the test. Then, she was dumbstruck when she saw the two lines on it. She was conceived⊠with Jacob's child. Her face turned pale. Just then, someone entered the bathroom. In her panic, she threw the test into the trashcan and clenched her fists. Was she really going to lose her and Jacob's child? A pang of pain swept past her heart. Liesel was in a meeting but she was distracted. When it was over, a colleague leaned close to her, looking excited to share gossip. "Did you hear, Ms. Sharp? Someone from our department is conceived." The competition within Ford Corporation had always been intense, and carrying a baby was something that would easily affect one's career and ascension up the ladder. The colleague couldn't help saying gleefully, "I wonder who it is. They're being hush-hush about this, aren't they?" Liesel's heart skipped a beat. She looked up and happened to meet Jacob's cool, calm gaze. He said, "Come to my office, Ms. Sharp." She clenched her fists. When she entered Jacob's office, he said, "I'll have Jesse take you for an examination in a couple of days." Her heart stuttered, and she blurted out, "It's not me." "This is just to be safe. I'm sure you don't want any trouble to arise from this." Liesel couldn't stop him. She could only suppress her panic and say, "Okay." Natalie came her way when she left the office. The former bit her lip and said uneasily, "What happened last time was a misunderstanding, Ms. Liesel. You won't get mad at me for that, will you? I had no idea Hardin Group would pull such a dirty trick and try to stuff subpar products on us!" "That's none of my business," Liesel said indifferently. "The company has its system for rewards and punishments. You'll have to bear the consequences of your mistakes. It's as simple as that." She had nothing much to say to Natalie. Setting aside their relationship, she'd always drawn a clear line between her professional and private lives. There was no need to drag personal grudges into work. Natalie sighed in relief. "It's Dad's birthday next week, Liesel. He hasn't seen you for so long. How about you come home so we can celebrate as a family?" Jeffrey's birthday was a week after Heather's death anniversary. Liesel looked at Natalie and said, "I'm not in the mood to scheme and play mind games with you, Natalie. "If you're not a complete idiot, you'll understand what I mean when I say your father's birthday isn't a good day for me and my mother." Natalie faltered. Then, her face turned red, and she said, "I know it's only a week after Heather's death anniversary, but you can't revive the dead. We still have to celebrate Dad's birthday since he's alive, right? "I've never blamed Heather for banishing me to the countryside, so why do you have to keep holding a grudge against Dad?" "You know very well why my mother sent you to the countryside," Liesel said icily. "If I were to forgive the person who'd caused her death and even celebrate his birthday, it wouldn't prove that I'm generous enough to bury the hatchet. It would just show that I'm heartless." Natalie blanched. Her eyes turned red as tears welled in them. "I didn't mean anything else by this, Liesel. I justâ" "I don't care what you meant," Liesel interrupted. "When at work, we're nothing more than colleagues. You should focus on your work, Ms. Natalie." She turned and left, not wanting to play mind games with Natalie. She took the afternoon off to head to the hospital. It didn't even occur to her what Natalie thought of her words. Unfortunately, it seemed Natalie was more cowardly than she'd expected. The former had been so absent-minded while walking that she'd twisted her ankle. Jacob brought her to the hospital. "Congratulations. You're six weeks conceived." Liesel happened to run into Jacob, who was holding Natalie up, when she was leaving the hospital with her report. The doctor's words reverberated in her mind. "Your body cannot handle the surgery, Ms. Sharp. If you proceed with it, you might not be able to conceive in the future. I'd advise you to think this through." Liesel felt bitter. She was conceived with Jacob's child, which was something to be happy and expectant about. But would he allow her to keep it? Jacob noticed the look on her face while Natalie hesitantly called out to her. "LieâMs. Liesel." Jacob's gaze flitted past her. "What are you doing here?" She hid her report behind her and said softly, "I came for a follow-up check because my cold isn't completely gone yet." He narrowed his eyes at her. Natalie seemed to notice something and tugged his sleeve. She looked a little glum. "You should have something to discuss with Ms. Sharp, Mr. Ford. I'll head back first." Jacob frowned but didn't make her stay. "I'll have someone take you back." She nodded obediently. Liesel sighed in relief and stuffed the report into her bag. When she and Jacob were in his car, he glanced at her. "Are you that nervous to be around me? The more you act like this, the more I'll think you're conceived." She subconsciously wanted to deny it but forced herself to smile. She asked, "What will you do if I really am conceived, then?" "Make you lose it," he said without hesitation as he looked her in the eye. She knew it. A pang of pain swept past her heart, and she shook her head as she said bitterly, "It's just a cold." Jacob scrutinized her for a while before saying, "I heard you and Nat got into a small fight today, leading to her twisting her ankle while heading downstairs. "She's young and naive but is kind. She also doesn't get into arguments with others that easily. You should be nicer to her and be more accommodating if anything happens in the future." Liesel's bitterness bubbled up in her. No one in this world could avoid being more favorable to certain people. She said, "She's not a child, Mr. Ford. There's nothing for me to accommodate." Chapter 5 Liesel looked at Jacob. Her tone was calm as she said, "I don't owe Natalie anything, nor do I owe you. Work-wise, I'm only her senior. Regarding my personal life, my mother didn't owe her anything. "Natalie came knocking on our door when her mother chose to marry another. No woman can accept her husband's illegitimate daughter. She might have had Natalie sent to the countryside, but Natalie was also given more than enough money to survive there. "I don't owe her, whether professionally or personally. Why should I be more accommodating and tolerant of her? Why should I back down when facing off against her?" When she finished her speech, silence descended upon the car. Jacob looked at her. She wore a simple dress that clung to her curves, and her delicate features were arranged into her usual mask of aloofness. There was something cold and tenacious about her. She was so brilliant that one could almost neglect her beauty. His gaze flitted over her eyes. After a moment of silence, he said gently, "I'm sorry. I didn't handle this matter appropriately." Liesel didn't say anything. He looked her in the eye and said, "I shouldn't have made you suppress yourself and back down for Natalie's sake. You're a wonderful woman, Liesel. Even though we're divorced now, I still hope you'll live your own life." She clenched her fists and tried to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't deny that she really, really liked Jacob. However, certain things just couldn't be forced. ⊠Liesel headed home. She had someone ask around about the doctor Jacob was going to arrange to examine her. Meanwhile, Chelsea was worried. "Can't you just tell him the truth? He might not be that cruel. You two were together for three years, after all." "I'd rather not." Liesel caressed her belly. She was silent for a while before saying, "Since I can't lose the child, there's no need to let Jacob know about this. We're already divorced, and this child is part of my life now. I'll need your help dealing with the doctor." Whatever it was, she couldn't let Jacob find out about the baby. Chelsea didn't object. She seemed to think of something and said, "Natalie used to intern at Shifter Corporation. Do you think it's just a coincidence, or does she know something?" This came as a surprise to Liesel. Natalie had interned at Shifter Corporation? Did she know it belonged to Liesel, or⊠It piqued Liesel's suspicions, but she didn't dwell on the matter. "It's probably just a coincidence. She graduated from Alden University, and Shifter Corporation does campus recruitments there, too." Chelsea had only brought it up since it had occurred to her. She smiled and said, "Mr. Shifter and Neal should be back soon, right? I'm sure you'll feel more secure with them around." Neal Shifter was Jonathan's son, and the Shifter family had been managing Shifter Corporation on Liesel's behalf all these years. Since Heather's passing, the Shifters had become like family to Liesel. She smiled, and a rare hint of relief flashed in her eyes. ⊠The following day, news of Uriah's downfall broke out. Elijah looked like a dandy but had surprisingly ruthless methods. He'd gotten someone to leak information on the dirty tricks Uriah had pulled to the paparazzi. Coincidentally, Uriah had recently murdered someone while driving under the influence and had gotten a scapegoat to take the fall. Thanks to everything being lumped together, he was soon arrested. Elijah had proper quality stocks delivered to Ford Corporation in exchange for the subpar stocks. When Liesel went to handle the handover, he watched her with interest. "Don't you trust me, Ms. Sharp?" He raised an eyebrow and eyed the light sheen of sweat at her temples. His gaze turned pointed. She smiled and blinked at him. "I wouldn't put it that way. Better safe than sorry, right?" Her smile and rare moment of slyness made her glow. Her eyes were so bright. Elijah smirked at the sight. It looked like the rumors about her couldn't be trusted at all. She was much more interesting than those naive young women. Jacob and Natalie happened to see this. Natalie approached with a smile and said, "You and Ms. Liesel seem to get along very well, Mr. Hardin. It looks like this matter was a blessing in disguise." Her tone was light-hearted and lively, which carried a hint of a young woman's naivety and cheer. Her words made one's imagination wander, though. It was as if Liesel and Elijah were more involved than they seemed. Jacob's expression darkened when he took in the smile on Liesel's face. Then, he said coolly, "Sorry to have troubled you over this, Mr. Hardin." "Oh, it was no trouble at all." Elijah smiled meaningfully. "Nothing is considered troublesome when I have someone as gorgeous as Ms. Liesel attending to me." "Ms. Liesel has always drawn a clear line between work and pleasure. You might have gotten the wrong idea, Mr. Hardin." Jacob's gaze flitted over Liesel. Elijah's smile widened. "Drawing a clear line between work and pleasure isn't the same as being heartless. One has to be thick-skinned when pursuing a woman, right? Or are you interfering in your employee's personal life, Mr. Ford?" Jacob faltered. Then, he said, "I'll leave you to it, Mr. Hardin." He turned and left with Natalie in tow. Liesel watched them. Her gaze was aloof. However, Elijah saw the glumness deep inside. He said, "Your precious Mr. Ford isn't all that great. Why don't you consider other fish in the sea?" There was a hint of amorosity to his words. Liesel returned to her senses and chuckled. "I remember you saying that I'm not your type, Mr. Hardin. Have you changed your mind?" Elijah looked at her. If he had to be honest, she was too stubborn and inflexible for his tastes. She was indeed not his type. Yet she was pretty and intelligent enough to mask her inflexibility. "Not really." He leaned closer. "But I'll make an exception for you. You should really consider my proposal." Liesel didn't take his words to heart. She was just glad she'd managed to resolve the stock problem and prevent Ford Corporation from suffering any losses. Jacob punished Natalie by docking three months of her pay and bonuses. Then, he paid Liesel double her salary. The colleagues in Liesel's department were pleased when she returned. "I'll admit itâI can't stand those who got in here because of their connections. Anyone else would've been fired ages ago." "I know, right? She's supposed to have graduated from Alden University, yet she made such a huge mistake immediately after taking over as Mr. Ford's secretary. Even if we were to talk about looks alone, it's not like she can compare with Ms. Sharp! I wonder what Mr. Ford sees in herâŠ" Ford Corporation was one of the biggest in the industry, so it was harder for rookies to find their footing there compared to other companies. Their situation would only be worse if they didn't have the skills to back themselves up. It wasn't appropriate for Liesel to comment on the subject, but she knew it wasn't right to pick on Natalie like that. "Stop." She could feel a headache coming on as she stopped the gossip. "She's just a young woman who's new to this. You guys should focus on your work. I'll treat everyone to a nice meal in a couple of days, okay?" Only then did the crowd zip their lips and get back to work. Liesel needed to hand a contract to Jacob now that she was done with the matter with Hardin Corporation. She headed to his office and was about to knock when she heard Natalie's voice. Inside the room, Natalie bit her lip. Her eyes were red as she said, "I'm too useless, aren't I, Jake? Everyone says I can't compare to Ms. Liesel." Jacob frowned, and a hint of displeasure flashed in his eyes. He wiped her tears and said, "What's the point of comparing yourself to her? You two aren't the same." Liesel faltered outside the door. She only pushed it open after a beat. | 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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465161618_1748227519283646_2470131720883063388_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LN9uhWL-ZwYQ7kNvgEyg-cI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZO84i2ldjwS4p8ttgsGnSJ&oh=00_AYCBNLI4kxFy2Kfm4KbLmA7Pwou7EDQyGtZgNCJ_jjkooQ&oe=674D8BE0 | 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 19:09 | active | 1931 | 0 | ăăăăŻăȘăăŻăăŠçĄæă§ăèȘăżăă ăăïŒ | ăăă€ćœŒć„łăšéąć©ăăăźïŒă ć柀ăźäžă§ă愳ăźćăŻææ ă«æșăĄăçłă§çźăźćăźç·æ§ăèŠă€ăăŠăăă ć°æŸééŠăŻć柀ăźć€ă«ç«ăŁăŠăăŠăæè¶łăć·ăăŠăăăăăźć„łăźćăšćăăăć°æŸééŠăŻç·ăźçŸăăćłăăéĄăèŠă€ăăéĄèČăŻéăăăŠăăă ç·ăŻćœŒć„łăźć€«ăäșćźźé äčă§ăăă ćŁăăăăȘăé äčăŻăăăźăŻă©ăă§ăŠă§ă€ăżăŒăšăăŠćăăŠăăăééŠăŻä»æ„ä»äșăç”ăăŠäžç·ă«ćž°ăăăă«æ©ăă«ăăŁăŠæ„ăăăăăăȘć Žéąă«ééăăăšăŻäșæłăăŠăăȘăăŁăă ç·ăŻèăćă軜ăéăăäœăăŠćżć°ăă棰ăçșăăăăă§ăăă ăæ©ăćœŒć„łă«è©±ăăă ééŠăŻçźăéăăèăćăăă 話ăăăă ă ăăăăăăȘçŽ æ”ăȘ棰ă ăŁăăȘăăŠă ăăă«ăăŠăăăăŁăšèăăćœŒăźæćăźèšèăéąć©ă ăŁăăȘăăŠăäșæłć€ă§ăăă äșșéăă ăŁăăźăăšééŠăŻć°ăè«ç¶èȘ怱ăăŠăăă ăăźäžćă§ăŻăŒă«ăȘç·æ§ăăé äčă ăȘăăŠăăăćŸăȘăă é äčăéąć©ăćăćșăăŻăăăȘăă ăŻă©ăăćșăăšăăć€ăŻéšăéăŁăŠăăăăăă«æżĄăăŠăăŸăăééŠăŻæș枯ăćăćșăă怫ăźçȘć·ă«ăă€ă€ă«ăăŠăżăă ć柀ăźçȘăŸă§æ©ăăŠèĄăăéšă§ăăăă èŠéăéăăŠäžăèŠăăă é äčăŻçăćŻăăȘăăæș枯ăæă«ćăăçĄèĄšæ ă§é話ăćăŁăŠăăăăĄăă»ăŒăžăæăĄć§ăăă ăĄăă»ăŒăžăăăă«ć±ăăă ăă©ăăăŠé»è©±ăăăăŠăăăźïŒćă話ăăȘăăăšăćżăăŠăăźïŒă ééŠăŻăĄăă»ăŒăžăèŠă€ăăăŸăă§ăă€ăă§ćșăăăăăźăăă«ćżèăçăăȘăŁăŠăăă ăȘăćăă€ăïŒ ăă€ćăăăăă«ăȘăŁăăźăïŒ ăăźć„łăźćăšăŻăăă€ç„ăćăŁăăă ăăïŒ ăă€éąć©ăăăăšăæ±șăăăă ăăïŒ èžă«æč§ăäžăăçĄæ°ăźçćăä»ăăă¶ăĄăŸăăăăšæăŁăăăćœŒăźć·ăăèĄšæ ă«æăăă„ăăŠăă§ăăȘăŁăă 1ćčŽćăèšæ¶ćȘ怱ă§ćŁăăăăȘăé äčăćź¶ă«éŁăăŠćž°ăŁăæăćœŒăŻèȘćăźććăźæžăæčă ăăèŠăăŠăăŠăä»ăźăăčăŠăćżăăŠăăă ăăăȘé äčă«èȘăżæžăăăæè©±ăŸă§äžăăæăăăăă«äșșăæăăăăšăăćŠă°ăăăźăŻć°æŸééŠă ăŁăă ăăźćŸăäșäșșăŻç”ć©ăăă çżæ Łăèș«ă«ă€ăă«ăŻ21æ„ăăăăšèšăăăŠăăăă1ćčŽéäžç·ă«ăăăšăé äčăšăăç·ăźććšă«ăăèȘćăžăźćȘăăçŹéĄă«ăăăŁăăæ ŁăăŠăăă ă ăăăăăŻăăŁăšćă«éăăȘăăé äčăŻéąć©ăćăćșăăŻăăăȘăăšäżĄăăŠăăă éšă«æżĄăăŠćź¶ă«ćž°ăăšăééŠăŻăéąšćă«ć „ăăé äčăźăăă«æçăçšæăăŠăéŁćă§éăă«ćŸ ăŁăŠăăă æèšăć€ăź10æăæăăăšăăăăąăéăăćŻæ°ăăŸăšăŁăé äčăćź¶ă«ć „ăŁăŠăăă é äčăŻăă§ă«ăŠă§ă€ăżăŒăźć¶æă«çæżăăŠăăă çç±ăăȘăćżăçăăȘăŁăă æ„äžă«èŠăç·ăźć§żăćč»ăȘăźăă©ăăăăăăȘăăŁăă ăééŠăă©ăăăăźïŒă éĄăéăăăăŒăăăăšăăèĄšæ ăźćŠ»ăèŠăé äčăŻăćżé ăăă«æè©±ă§ć°ăăă ćœŒăźç«ŻæŁăȘéĄç«ăĄă«ăŻäžćźăă«ăăżăæăçłă«ăŻçŠăăćźżăŁăŠăăăă ééŠăźé ăźäžă«æ”źăăă§ăăăźăŻăć·ăăçźă§ăĄăă»ăŒăžăæăĄèŸŒăżăȘăăăć„ăźć„łæ§ăšæ„œăăăă«äŒè©±ăăŠăă怫ăźć§żă ăŁăă ăȘăăŠçźèăȘăăźă ă ăéŠæ°Žăźćăăăăăăä»ăźć„łæ§ăźă ééŠăŻćœŒă«è§ŠăăăăăźăéżăăȘăăèšèăçșăăă é äčăźéĄèČăäžć€ăăæè©±ă§çăăăă仿„ăććź€ă§æ„ćźąăăéăăćźąæ§ăźéŠæ°Žăźćăăă€ăăăăăăăȘăăăăă«ă·ăŁăŻăŒă攎ăłăŠăăăăă é äčăç«ăĄäžăăŁăŠăă€ăŹă«èĄăăšăăăă«æ°Žăźæ”ăăéłăèăăăŠăăă ç·ćŒ”ăăȘăăèȘŹæăăæ§ćăŻăćăăăèŠăăȘăăŁăă ééŠăŻç«ăĄäžăăăăăźăŸăŸæ”Žćź€ă«ć „ăŁăŠăæżĄăăèș«äœăæ°ă«ăăăăšăȘăé äčăæ±ăăăăçźăéăăăă仿„ăăŻă©ăă«èĄăŁăŠăăăźă ç·ăŻćăăæąăăăă°ăăăăŠăăăăăăăăŁăăă ăăăăšăăæŻăă€ăăă ăăźæă«èăăăćœŒăźćٰăŻăéłæ„œăšæ··ăăćăŁăŠăăŠăăăă»ă©éźźæă§ăŻăȘăăŁăă ăăăȘăźă«ăä»ăźćœŒăźäœă棰ăŻééŠăźé ăźäžă§éłŽăéżăăŠăăăăăźéźźæă§ćżă«éżă棰ă«ăééŠăŻæŻăćăă»ă©èžăçăă ă é äčăŻè©±ăăăăă«ăȘăŁăăăćœŒăŻăăă«ăăźăăšăäŒăăŠăăăă©ăăăăéąć©ăćăćșăăăšăăŠăăă ăăăŻæŹćœăȘăźă ăăăă ă©ăăăŠéąć©ăȘăăŠèšăćșăăźïŒ ăăèłȘćăăăæ°æăĄă§ăăŁă±ăă ăŁăăăææ ąăăă ăăź1ćčŽéăćœŒă«ćŻŸăăŠæȘăăăšăăăèŠăăŻäžćșŠăăȘăăźă«ăéąć©ăćăćșăăăăźăȘăăăăăŠçç±ăç„ăăăă ćżăŻć·ăăæăăăăćœŒăźäœæž©ă«æăăééŠăŻăăăŁăšćŒ·ă怫ăźäœăæ±ăăăăă ăăăăèȘ°ăăšè©±ăăŠăăăźăèăăăăă©ăäœă話ăăŠăăăăŻăăăăȘăăŁăăæŹćœă«çŽ æ”ă ăŁăăăăŸăăăăźćٰă ăăèšăăȘăăăćœŒăźèäžă«ăăčăăăă ăŸăăăă ăăźćŒăłæčăŻăäșäșșă ăăźăă©ă€ăăŒăăȘæă«äœżăçčć„ăȘăăźă ă ăăćŒă°ăăăăłă«ăé äčăŻăăă«æ ç±çă«ćżăăŠăăăă ăăăăä»ć€ăŻéăŁăăééŠăŻæŒăæ»ăăăŠăăŸăŁăă ăçČăăăăšé äčăèšăŁăă ééŠăŻéĄăéăăă怫ăźç«æŽŸăȘèäžăèŠă€ăăȘăăăçȘç¶æăăæč§ăäžăăŁăŠăăăăă ăăæŹČăăăŁăŠèšăŁăŠăăźăé äčăŻç§ăźć€«ă§ăăăïŒć€«ăšăăŠăźèČŹä»»ăăĄăăăšæăăăčăăăăȘăăźïŒă çČăăăšèšăŁăŠăăăăăŸăăä»ăźć„łăšćŻăăăă§ăŻăȘăă ăăăïŒ ä»ăăçąșèȘăăȘăăă°ïŒ çȘç¶ćŒ·æ°ă«ăȘăŁăééŠă«é©ăăăźăăééŠăźæăăăæăäœäžăéăăšăé äčăźæŻăŻăŸăăŸăèăăȘăŁăŠăăŁăă äœăŻæŁçŽăȘăăźă§ăăăźç·ăŻăă€ăééŠăźèȘæă«ćŒ±ăă é»ăçłăźäžă«æăèČăăĄăăăšć ăăé äčăŻééŠăźéĄăă€ăăżăćăć„ȘăŁă⊠| LEARN_MORE | https://mmplm.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14806&ut | 愳ăźćăèȘăżăăć°èȘŹă性çčé | https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/ | 114 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | mmplm.com | DCO | https://mmplm.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14806&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/t39.35426-6/465212100_897429978668628_9056086323662448835_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CYy0zUuU8kYQ7kNvgGsbg5Y&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AdZDmbdVebMiMWKFwMEz-NS&oh=00_AYDDMCZ4CkoJYChkGnbU668TtZDO9bpndibR2BF4-aB4Nw&oe=674D7679 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 愳ăźćăèȘăżăăć°èȘŹă性çčé | 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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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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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yatesâs husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, âEm, how about having a child with me?â Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasnât until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. âA child?â she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justinâs desire again. She was a constant temptation to him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled out a ring and slipped it onto her left hand. âAre you proposing to me?â she asked. âYes.â âCan I finally have your child now?â Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone elseâs answer. âIâll give you plenty,â she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasnât exactly romantic or formal, but she didnât mind. She had waited three years for this moment, and it was worth it. Three years ago, she had been injured near the beach, hitting her head on a rock. When she woke up, she had no memory. Justin had saved her. The first thing she saw when she woke was his face, and one look left her captivated. Later, she learned that Justin had paid her hospital bills. She also learned of his identity. He was the CEO of RC Corporation. He proposed that she be his contract lover, and without hesitation, she agreed. They signed an agreement, defining their relationship, and he gave her the name Emily Yates. Yes, she was drawn to his looks. Despite their arrangement, the past three years felt like any other relationship. In the first year, she was a hidden lover. In the second, he introduced her as his girlfriend to his circle. Now, with three years approaching, he was proposing. Once she was part of his social circle, she heard whispers about a woman who had been his first love, someone he cherished deeply in college. She had disappeared without a trace, and he had been searching for her ever since. Over the years, Justin had lost hope she was still alive. That was why he finally proposed. Emily didnât mind. Everyone has a past. Looking at the diamond ring on her left ring finger, she felt like it had all been worth it. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Justin was showering. Calming down, Emily wrapped a towel around herself and got out of bed to pick up their scattered clothes. A soft *clink* echoed as something hit the floor. It was Justinâs cardholder. She bent down to pick it up, and a photo slipped out. It was old, with frayed edges, as if it had been looked at countless times. The woman in the photo looked like her but younger, just how she would have looked three years ago. Emily didnât remember ever taking this photo, but she had lost her memory. Maybe she had forgotten. She was just about to put the cardholder back when a large, slender hand appeared, taking it from her. Justin emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and falling over his eyes, now tinged with a hint of displeasure. âDonât touch my things,â he said coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the intimacy they had just shared. Turning away from her, he put the cardholder back in his briefcase, his whole demeanor suddenly distant and guarded. Emily froze. Was he really getting defensive over a photo? She looked at him, confused. Wasnât that her old picture? Before she could ask, Justin seemed to realize that his reaction had been out of line. He turned back and grasped her chin. With a playful glint in his eye, he ran his thumb over her still-swollen lips, toying with them. His voice was cool, devoid of warmth, but his words were deeply suggestive, clearly aiming to change the subject. âWeâre going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldnât mind going another round.â Her cheeks flushed at his teasing, and she gently pushed him away. Her thoughts were scattered, and she quickly forgot about the photo. Justin had come to Merika State on business and had received an invitation to an art exhibition by Haley Quinn. He brought Emily along, planning to take her to the show once his work was done. Haley, a painter who had withdrawn from the public eye three years ago, rarely held exhibitions, making this one a rare event. Emily dressed quickly, while Justin had already changed into a fresh suit. The gallery was close to the hotel, so they walked there. Arm in arm, they strolled down the street, enjoying the perfect atmosphere. Just as Emily felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, Justin suddenly stopped. âJustin, whatâs wrong?â She followed his gaze. Across the street, a disheveled woman, her clothes too dirty to recognize their original color, was recklessly crossing the traffic, oblivious to the danger. The woman pushed Emily aside and wrapped her arms tightly around Justinâs waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. âJustin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didnât you?â Emily stumbled from the shove, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. The woman looked eerily familiar. She resembled the one in the photo from the cardholder and, in a way, even looked like Emily herself. âEmma? Is that really you?â Justinâs voice trembled, his eyes locked onto the woman in his arms, as if afraid she might disappear again. Just moments ago, he had proposed to Emily. Now, right there in the street, he held another woman. He gently wiped away the womanâs tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. âYes, itâs me,â the woman sobbed, nodding desperately. Frail as she was, she clung to him. Justin was known for his fastidiousness and love of cleanliness, but he now held her tightly. He was soothing her with gentle words, as if she were a lost treasure he had finally recovered. He was afraid that even the slightest rough movement might hurt her. They seemed oblivious to everything around them, including Emily. Justin seemed to have forgotten Emily was still there. The woman in his arms had cried herself into unconsciousness. He took off his expensive jacket and draped it over her. He then slipped his arms under her knees and held her tightly as he carried her back toward the hotel. Emily stood there, feeling like an outsider. Her arm still ached from where she had been shoved, and she could still feel the warmth of Justinâs touch lingering around her waist. Just minutes ago, he had been tangled up with her in bed, proposing marriage. Now, he was leaving her in the middle of the street, carrying a woman who seemed to come out of nowhere. He had tossed aside his usual grace, holding this woman, who looked like a beggar, and rushed back to the hotel. The people around them pointed and whispered, like they were watching some sort of spectacle. Emily wanted to follow him, but her first step faltered. She steadied herself against a nearby building, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Her flawless makeup now showed a hint of disarray. Chapter 2 Tears had fallen without her noticing, smudging the fresh makeup around her eyes. Emily glanced down at the diamond ring on her left hand, a sense of foreboding spreading through her. The sudden appearance of this woman might shatter the happiness she had been waiting for. She couldnât just stand here. She had to know who this woman was. After a moment to gather herself, she headed back to the hotel. The plane flew from Merika State back to Haven State. At Lichfield Hospital, Emily stood at the door of a hospital room, arms crossed, trying to see inside through the window. Justinâs friend, Zac White, the director of Lichfield Hospital, along with other doctors, were examining the restless woman on the hospital bed. Two female nurses held her steady as they conducted their checks. On the plane, her face had already been cleaned, and she had been given fresh clothes. âEmma Xander? Hasnât she... disappeared for the past four years?â Zac was shocked. Where had Justin found her? The Yates and White families had pulled every string they could to find Emma, but after four years with no trace, they had finally given up. And now, here she was. After completing their examination, the doctors and nurses left the room. A heavy silence fell over the space. A moment later, Justinâs voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. âHow is she doing?â âSheâs malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.â Justin stood by her bedside, clearly prepared to stay with her. Zac hesitated, wanting to say something, but thought better of it and left the room. He opened the door to find Emily waiting outside. Feeling awkward for his friend, Zac adjusted his silver-framed glasses and greeted her with a polite smile. âHi, Miss Yates.â Emily nodded in acknowledgment. âDr. White, whatâs her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?â she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justinâs long-lost first love. This was his friendâs private matter, after all, and not his to reveal. Before he could find the words, Justin opened the door and saw them standing outside. He frowned, clearly displeased. 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. Seeing Justinâs dark expression, Zac stepped in, concerned that Emily might end up on the losing side of this argument. When Justin was angry, it rarely boded well for anyone. âItâs late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,â Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zacâs offer. She 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. Justin had always been there for her, always caring, always the first to pick up her calls, no matter if he was in a meeting or on a business trip. If she ever needed him, he would show up immediately. If she couldnât be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldnât even let her near him? 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. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. 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 Emilyâs heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasnât the right moment to bring this up, but she couldnât accept the idea that her future husband would spend the night in the hospital with another woman. Zac stood nearby, listening in shock. Marriage? Had Justin really proposed to Emily? And what about Emma in the hospital room? Justin glanced over his shoulder, worried that the woman asleep in the hospital bed might hear them and wake up. Emily noticed the concern in his eyes. It was an expression she had seen many times when he had worried about her. But now, that look was for someone else. He turned back to Emily, his voice still icy. âIf you donât want to get married, we can call it off. This isnât the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.â He didnât like being threatened, especially when it came to his marriage. Without another glance at her, he opened the door to the hospital room and went back inside. William stepped forward, maintaining his respectful tone. âMiss Yates, please donât make this difficult for me. Itâs time for you to go home.â Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. âMiss Yates, itâs late. Maybe itâs best to talk things over with Justin another time.â But how could they ever discuss this again? Her fiancĂ© had just left her humiliated, choosing to stay with another woman without a care for her dignity. The hospital hallway lights felt harsh, blinding her with their brightness. Realizing that staying there made her look like a fool, Emily decided she wouldnât let herself be a spectacle for others to watch. Clenching her purse tightly, Emily turned to leave. As she took a step, her vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed. Both Zac and William rushed to steady her, their grip gentlemanly but firm. âIâll walk you to the car,â Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. âIâm fine. I can get back on my own.â Her footsteps wobbled as she walked down the hallway, but she managed to keep her head high until she was out of their sight. After returning to the hospital room, Justin glanced down at Emma, who lay pale and frail on the bed. A strange weight settled in his chest, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic only added to his irritation. He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons, but the air still felt suffocating. He stepped back out into the hallway, finding Zac and William waiting there. Emily was gone. âShe left?â he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didnât want her disturbing Emmaâs rest. âYes, sheâs gone,â Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didnât bother asking how Emily had left. âIâm stepping out for a break,â he said. Chapter 3 âSo, Emma Xanderâs back. What are you going to do?â Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didnât mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justinâs life. The other was the girlfriend who had been with him for three years, sharing his most intimate moments, and now, his fiancĂ©e. After a long pause, Justin replied, his voice cold and detached. âShe was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.â He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadnât been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. âThe role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.â In a way, Emily had saved him the trouble of saying it himself when she had brought up their marriage in the hallway. Zac and Justin had been close friends since childhood, both growing up in privileged families, each carrying a bit of that self-centered mindset typical of their social circle. But this time, Zac couldnât help feeling sorry for Emily. Emily, though an orphan with no family or wealth, was straightforward and honest. Over the past three years, she had complemented Justin perfectly, and in Zacâs eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasnât hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didnât care about things like V-card or a womanâs past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justinâs concerns, running off on her own without a second thought. After graduation, she mysteriously vanished during an overseas reunion party organized by a close group of alumni. Despite mobilizing every possible connection, they never found her. Even the police suggested they give up, implying that a young woman disappearing overseas was likely gone for good. At that time, Justin hadnât fully taken over the company and wasnât yet experienced in handling crises like these. Around the same time, his father, Henry Yates, was in a car accident and died despite emergency treatment. After the funeral, Justin was suddenly thrust into the dual responsibilities of inheriting the company and fending off his uncle, Harry Yates, who was trying to seize control. Thanks to his grandfatherâs intervention, Justin managed to stabilize the corporation. By then, the critical window to find Emma had long passed, and any chance of finding her had all but disappeared. Zac clearly remembered how Justin had been consumed with frustration and self-blame during those days. And then Emily had come into his life, bringing him some peace. For that, Zac was truly grateful to her. âEmilyâs been with you for three years,â Zac said, trying to speak up for her. âSheâs an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isnât it a bit cruel to treat her like this?â âThen Iâll keep her around,â Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. âBut marriage? Thatâs not going to happen.â His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didnât matter at all. He didnât see a problem with it. Keep her around? Really? Was he expecting her to stay hidden away as his stand-in lover, someone he kept out of sight? A mistress? A side piece? Emily didnât leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadnât expected to find out the truth like this. It turned out she was only here because she happened to look almost exactly like his lost one true love. And since she had lost her memory, he saw the perfect opportunity to mold her into the image of the woman he truly missed, hiding the truth from her and using her as a substitute. All the affection and indulgence he had shown her, it was never really for her. It was for the woman he had lost. Emma Xander. So that was her name, the one he had loved all his life. That was why he named her Emily, a name that allowed him to keep calling out for the one he had always loved. Even in their most intimate moments, he would call her âEm.â Whenever he whispered âEmâ in that deep, seductive voice, full of passion, she would lose herself completely, sinking further into him. It turned out he was simply looking at her face and calling out another womanâs name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justinâs wallet must have been of Emma, not her. She had foolishly assumed the woman in that picture was herself. What a joke. From start to finish, Justin had shaped her into the image of his hidden love, his one true love. And she had naively believed that she had won him over, making him fall in love with her. In truth, she was nothing more than a piece in their story. Emily felt her heart plunge from a mountaintop to the depths of despair. She had gone from being a proud fiancĂ©e to a hidden stand-in, a shadow. She had liked, maybe even loved Justin. But her pride couldnât accept that she had been someone elseâs replacement all along, or that she was now the secret other woman. Resolved to leave, she felt a small sense of relief that Justin had only proposed. They werenât married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emmaâs sudden appearance. âMiss Yates, where are you?â the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. âIâm here.â Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. âIs it just you? Whereâs Mr. Yates?â he asked. âHeâs not coming back.â Emily rose from the bench by the flower bed and walked back to the car with the driver. She wore a cream-colored, knee-length dress in a sweet, innocent style. As an artist, she was open to trying any look, but it was Justin who had said he liked this style. So, for the past three years, she had dressed this way for him. The spring breeze brushed her bare calves, sending a chill through her. Zac looked a bit uncomfortable, âEmily didnât leave?â So, she had heard everything they had said. Justinâs tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. âGood. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.â With that, he turned and walked away from the garden, completely unfazed by the fact that Emily had overheard him. Emily sat quietly during the ride back to Villa One. Mrs. Zimmer greeted her at the door, her face lighting up warmly after a few days apart. âYouâre back! It mustâve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.â Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. âYes.â âWhereâs Mr. Yates?â Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. âHe wonât be back tonight.â Emilyâs voice was detached, as if his return made no difference to her. Mrs. Zimmer looked slightly disappointed at first, but then her face lit up with a knowing smile, the kind that came from having seen a lot in life. She took Emilyâs suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmerâs smile. The room was dimly lit, with candles arranged at various heights, casting a soft, romantic glow. Flowers and scented candles adorned the surfaces, and a bottle of champagne sat open on the table. Even the usual heavy gray curtains had been replaced with delicate lace, adding an air of intimacy. The bed was covered in thick rose petals, the entire room transformed into a romantic setting. Clearly, this had been Justinâs arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didnât have the energy to clean up, and it was too late to bother Mrs. Zimmer. Chapter 4 Emily found the remote to turn on the lights, then looked for something handy to snuff out each candle one by one. Afterward, she retrieved her nightgown from the closet and headed for a shower. As she walked into the bathroom, she noticed the ring still on her left hand. She slipped it off and tossed it into the corner of her jewelry box. When she returned to the bedroom, she brushed all the rose petals off the bed and settled under the covers, pulling them over her head. She instinctively lay on the left side of the bed, where she was used to sleeping. Justin would always hold her close, gradually shifting over to the left with her until they were practically glued together. Now, the right side of the bed was glaringly empty. To fill the space, she scooted to the center, tossing the extra pillow onto the floor, finally feeling comfortable. She turned off the lights and went to sleep. Two days passed without any word from Justin. He was likely at the hospital with Emma or busy with work. Emily didnât care and hadnât reached out, maintaining a complete radio silence. The morning sun was bright, and the spring breeze was warm as she lounged on a deck chair in the villaâs garden, enjoying a face mask. Her mind wandered to practical matters. She had spent some time reviewing the contract she signed three years ago to be Justinâs âcontract lover.â It was set to expire automatically after three years, which was now less than four months away. When it ended, she would receive a payout of twenty million. Between that, and the allowance and holiday bonuses he had given her over the years, she had saved nearly six million. She had barely spent any of it, so it was all tucked away. It seemed she would be in decent shape financially, and finding a job after leaving wouldnât be too hard. As for a place to live, she could buy a similarly sized home, and maybe invite Helen to move in as a roommate. It would be nice to have company. She did regret not being able to take Mrs. Zimmer with her. If she could, it would be perfect. The phone on the coffee table buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Emily picked it up, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and a new message notification popped up at the top of the screen. She tapped to open it. It was from her friend, Helen Walker. They had met a year ago while shopping, when Helen insisted on becoming friends after seeing her just once. With no memory of any past friendships, Emily had found Helen easy to talk to, and they had gradually become close. âHow was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?â Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. âIâm already back.â âAlready? That was quick.â âI thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didnât last long? Not up to it?â âNot just ânot up to itâ. He canât even get started.â Emily replied, seizing the chance to curse him. On the other end, Helen raised an eyebrow. It looked like Justin had managed to tick off her friend. But she wasnât too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. âPerfect timing then. Iâm heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Letâs hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.â âSounds good. Iâll see you at the mall.â Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didnât like. Her wardrobe could use a refresh. She put down the phone and washed off her face mask. Glancing at the nearly empty wardrobe, she picked out a casual athletic outfit and did a quick, simple makeup look. Fresh and tidy, she got ready to head out. âMrs. Zimmer, Iâm meeting a friend to go shopping. Iâll have lunch out,â Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. âAlright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?â Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeperâs cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadnât seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. âNot sure yet. Iâll text you later if Iâll be back in time.â âUnderstood.â As Emily opened the door, she found Justinâs assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. âHi, Sam,â she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. âHi, Miss Yates. Mr. Yates has a flight out of town this afternoon for a business trip. Could I trouble you to help pack his things before you go?â Samâs tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didnât move. âMrs. Zimmer, Justinâs going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?â âMiss Yates, thisâŠ?â Samâs face showed confusion. âWhat? Before I came along, didnât Justin have someone to handle his luggage?â Her expression was calm, her tone light. âOf course. Youâre absolutely right, Miss Yates,â Sam replied, beads of sweat forming as he carefully balanced his response, not daring to offend either side. In the past, Emily had always packed for Justinâs business trips. She had done it so many times that she knew exactly what he would need for any occasion. But now, she had no desire to continue. He had used her as a stand-in, and every time he watched her pack his bags, he must have thought she looked foolish. Three years. Now that she thought back, there had been plenty of strange looks and behaviors from Justin that she hadnât picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldnât be foolish anymore. Emily was ready to leave, but Sam was blocking the door, preventing her from going. She urged Mrs. Zimmer to hurry with the packing. Mrs. Zimmer quickly filled the suitcase and handed it to Sam, who was waiting in the living room. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had barely passed. That was fast. "Mrs. Zimmer, are you sure itâs all packed? Should we check to make sure nothingâs missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, âIsnât the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, heâll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.â She checked her watch, starting to feel a bit pressed for time. If she delayed much longer, Helen would end up waiting impatiently, and they would miss out on shopping before lunch. And who wanted to try on clothes with a full stomach? âOf course, Miss Yates. Iâll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,â Sam said with a polite smile, making his way out. Emily nodded and headed down to the garage. She chose a white luxury car and drove off. Meanwhile, Sam took the suitcase to the sleek black car parked discreetly by the curb. He placed it in the trunk, then settled into the front passenger seat. The driver, Justinâs bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. âHow much longer until Emilyâs contract is up?â Justinâs voice was calm and emotionless, as if he were discussing a routine business matter. Sam immediately understood that the question was directed at him. He quickly recalled the contract details. âLess than four months, Mr. Yates.â âDraft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,â Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasnât an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldnât touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, âInclude a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.â Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. âUnderstood, Mr. Yates.â Chapter 5 People said billionaires were cold and indifferent in their personal lives, switching women as easily as they changed clothes. For the past three years, Mr. Yates had only been with Miss Yates, making him seem like a devoted man. But it looked like he could move on in an instant. Who knew how long Miss Xander would last by his side? Sam had joined the company three years ago, right when Justin took over RC Corporation, so he wasnât familiar with the complicated history between Emma and Justin. Inside TC Mall, Emily was browsing through clothes, each piece a far cry from her usual sweet and innocent style. âBabe, switching things up?â Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emilyâs curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. âYep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?â She turned to give Helen a look. âA shawl, definitely. Itâll highlight your figure beautifully,â Helen replied with her usual style advice. âThatâs what I thought too.â Helen eyed the dress. âThat dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesnât Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?â Helen couldnât help but mentally criticize Justinâs taste. What kind of fashion sense did he have anyway? A multinational CEO, a man with a grip on the Haven State economy, yet he liked her to dress like a schoolgirl. âHis taste doesnât matter anymore. Itâs not something Iâm concerned about,â Emily replied casually, completely indifferent. She handed the dress to a fitting assistant with a similar build, having her try it on for her. High-end stores like this one often had staff who modeled the clothes for clients, so she didnât have to try them on herself. Emily picked out a few more items in different styles for the assistant to model. If she liked them, she would buy them. When she was satisfied with her choices, she scanned her card and paid, then filled out the delivery details for Villa One. The clothes would be sent straight there. After they had finished shopping, they went for lunch. With no one else around, Emily finally shared her situation with Helen that she had been Justinâs stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. âThat despicable man!â Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. âKeep it down.â Emily quickly covered Helenâs mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. âJustin might look put-together, but heâs not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? âWhy didnât he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. âGood for you for walking away. You should break up with him. No! Just breaking up is too good for that pompous human garbage! You need to dump him into the sewers!â LMAO, where did Helen even learn these insults from? Just then, the server brought out a tray with seasoned meats, fresh vegetables, and a variety of salsas. Emily began assembling her own tacos, adding the toppings she liked best. âThe contractâs up in four months. Iâm planning to buy a place.â âWhat for? Just stay with me. Iâve got a room for you.â âMy address is still tied to Justinâs place. Since Iâve decided to leave, I need a clean break. Iâll need my own place to change everything over,â Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night sheâd learned the truth in the hospital garden. âThen you can cancel your lease and move in with me! Weâll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didnât want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. âAlright, Iâll move in with you. Iâll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. Iâll check if the landlordâs interested in selling, though itâs a resale property.â âI donât care if itâs new or used. As long as itâs clean and ready to go, Iâm good.â Emily didnât need much. After leaving the cushy life she had been used to, she was perfectly fine doing things on her own. She found the independence kind of refreshing. After lunch, they picked up some accessories to go with the new outfits, light enough to carry back on her own. Emily said goodbye to Helen and drove back to Villa One. By the time she got back, the clothes she had bought that morning had already been delivered, ironed, and neatly hung in the walk-in closet by the house staff. She hadnât bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The womenâs side of the closet was nearly empty, with only a few of her favorite pieces hanging. She grabbed a new loungewear set to change into and happened to glance over at the menâs side, packed with Justinâs clothes. Emily didnât linger. She strode past it without a second thought. As she was heading to the bathroom, her phone rang from the sofa. She put down the clothes and picked up the call. âHello, is this Miss Yates?â âYes, this is.â âIâm a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?â Emily remembered that Justin had taken her for a checkup just before their trip to Merika State. She had forgotten all about it until this call. âIâll come by tomorrow morning.â âVery well. Have a nice day.â The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. âPlan to have a baby?â âThatâs right. Mr. Yates specifically requested it during his screening. Your health is excellent, Miss Yates. Your ovulation cycle is regular, so we recommend folic acid, Vitamin B1, and plenty of protein. With the right timing and frequency, you should be expecting good news soon.â The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emilyâs fingers tightened around the report, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. She had been trying hard not to think about Justin lately, but this report hit her unexpectedly hard. âMiss Yates, Iâll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.â Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. âThanks, doctor, but that wonât be necessary. Iâll get them on my own.â The doctor wasnât surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasnât unusual. Emily left the hospital in a daze, only coming to her senses when she reached a sunny spot outside. She tossed the health report into the trash bin. With Emma back, Justin clearly had no intention of having children with her. And she certainly didnât want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didnât know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospitalâs garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emmaâs wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. âJustin, youâre busy with work. You donât have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,â Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. âFocus on getting better. Donât worry about anything else.â Justin felt a deep guilt about Emmaâs disappearance, blaming himself for not protecting her better. He believed his negligence had allowed her to be taken and vanish without a trace. Over the past few days, he had tried to gather clues from her about what happened, but whenever he brought it up, she would break down, unable to share any details. Emily hadnât expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadnât Sam said Justin was out of town on a business trip? | 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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464611692_886166930249424_1941613294849554701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=N9iYqMnI1OUQ7kNvgFzawE1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZO84i2ldjwS4p8ttgsGnSJ&oh=00_AYDNzZ_H_h4-QFpc31M3sxoZUpclomiiRfh5OX1XU2FoNg&oe=674DA534 | 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 1 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. The dim light made his skin glow, adding a hint of iciness to his already cold demeanor. 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." She stared at him and almost lost her grip on her glass. Her throat seemed to hurt more now. He didn't explain himself. All he said was, "You can ask for whatever you want. I won't shortchange you." Liesel's heart clenched, but she soon regained her composure. "We can discuss this if this is because you left to pick Natalie up two months ago." "It's not." He looked at her, his gaze aloof. "This is a loveless marriage, Liesel. There's no point in keeping it going." It was true that the marriage alliance between the Ford and Sharp families had never been the one Jacob had hoped for. Liesel was the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, but he'd never wanted to marry her. Their accidental encounter that night was the only thing that had made him choose to take responsibility for her. Liesel lowered her eyes and said slowly, "Alright. All I want is the house at Northview Garden, and I won't quit my job after the divorce." Her mother, Heather Mallone, had left the house for her. For whatever reason, it had ended up in the Ford family's hands and become one of her wedding gifts. As for her career, she'd worked hard and built a network within Ford Corporation. She couldn't allow the divorce to wipe her efforts away. Jacob didn't object. He looked at her and said, "Okay. Anything else?" "No." Liesel shook her head. "If it bothers you, I can move out tomorrow." He seemed surprised by how accommodating she was. He cautioned her calmly, "Make sure you've thought this through, Liesel. I don't want there to be anything between us after the divorce." "Don't worry about that." She smiled. He seemed to want to say something else, but his phone rang. He answered it and hung up shortly after. Then, he said, "I have something else to do. I'll get a lawyer to talk to you about the divorce." Soon after he left, Liesel saw a trending topic on him and Natalie showing up together somewhere. In hindsight, fate was such a twisted thing. Back then, Heather could not tolerate even the slightest flaw in her marriage. After learning about Natalie's existence, she forced her husband, Jeffrey Sharp, to send Natalie to the countryside so she could grow up there. Less than two years after Heather's death, Jeffrey had remarried, turning Liesel into a joke. Natalie had also been brought back from the countryside. Fate loved playing jokes on everyoneâno one would've expected Natalie to be the one who held Jacob's heart. ⊠Liesel only woke up the following noon. Her cold was much better now. A lawyer brought her the divorce agreement, making sure to go through the allocation of assets. Jacob truly hadn't shortchanged her. Aside from the house at Northview Garden, he'd also given her some other real estate. The lawyer said, "Sign here if you don't have any objection to the clauses, Ms. Sharp." Liesel nodded and signed the agreement without hesitation. The divorce would take some more time to finalize, though. Jacob was busy, so Liesel didn't get to see him at all. She reminded the lawyer, "Please tell Mr. Ford to expedite the finalization of the divorce if he's not too busy. Dragging this out won't do any of us favors." After settling the divorce, Liesel moved out of her and Jacob's marital home. Chelsea heard about this and invited her out for coffee. "You know about Natalie, right? She studied hard in the countryside after being banished by your mother and later got into a good university. Jacob ran into her at Alden University when he went there to give a talk." Chelsea snorted. She continued, "I heard Natalie was really in awe of him; it helped that she was so hardworking and optimistic. Your father was desperate to matchmake them, you know. But here's the questionâwhy would someone as wonderful as her not realize what a contemptible move it is to ruin someone's marriage?" Chelsea had always been defensive of people she counted as her own, and she scorned those who knowingly got involved with people who had significant others. The fact that Natalie was an illegitimate child only made Chelsea despise her more. Liesel looked unfazed, though. "It's all in the past now. Jacob and I are already divorced, so she's not really ruining the marriage." She chuckled. She had mixed feelings about the whole thing. "Besides, it's not like Jacob and I ever had feelings for each other." She lowered her gaze and suddenly remembered the first time she and Jacob had met. The year Heather had died, she'd caused one of Jeffrey's business deals to fall through. She'd been overjoyed and had dragged Chelsea out for a celebration. After the celebration, she'd refused to let go of a handsome man she'd latched onto. They'd both had too much to drink and had ended up in bed. It was only later that she'd learned he was Jacob Ford, her fiancĂ©. Rumor had it that he'd never wanted to marry her, but he'd looked at her the following morning and said, "I'm willing to take responsibility for this, Liesel. What about you?" He'd proposed marriage. Liesel had looked at him, and a rare moment of rashness had taken over her. She'd said, "Let's do it." To tell the truth, there wasn't anything bad about Jacob. He didn't love her but had never played the field or slept around with other women. He was also calm and level-headed, considerate and gentle. She didn't even have any complaints about their adventures in bed. But things had changed after he'd run into Natalie at Alden University two months ago. Chelsea looked at Liesel while feeling bitter. The latter hadn't said anything, but Chelsea knew how she felt. Judging from Liesel's personality, there was no way she would've settled for Jacob for so long if she didn't have feelings for him. "Maybe you should go back to Shifter Corporation, Lili. Why continue suffering at Ford Corporation? I feel nauseous at the thought of those two pieces of trash being there." Liesel had always been prideful and stubborn. After Heather's death, she'd used whatever she'd inherited to set up Shifter Corporation, wanting to compete with the Sharp family's company. However, she'd left it in the hands of Heather's friend, Jonathan Shifter. The outside world only knew it as Jonathan's company. "Marriage is marriage, and work is work," Liesel said. "I'm not going to give up on my career over a failed marriage." That was what she thoughtâit was also what Jacob had promised her. But when she headed to work the next day, she discovered she'd been transferred from her position as his secretary to the project department manager. Chapter 2 Liesel had taken a week of sick leave. She'd only learned about the transfer when returning to work. A colleague gossiped with her, sounding pointed as they said, "I bet you still don't know this, Ms. Sharp. We have a new secretary whose last name is also Sharp. It looks like there's something special about her." Liesel didn't expect to hear that. Had Jacob actually given Natalie a job by his side? Soon, Jacob summoned Liesel to the CEO's office. When she entered and stood before him, he looked at her indifferently. "Since you want to stay at the company, continuing to hold the position of my personal secretary isn't appropriate. "The project department manager was transferred to a branch company, leaving a vacancy there. The timing is just right." Liesel knew very well that Jacob had always been clear-headed. He would never allow her to cause Natalie any discomfort or disappointment. Rather than saying the transfer was his recognition of Liesel's abilities, it would be more accurate to say he merely didn't want Natalie to misunderstand. "Okay," Liesel said. He frowned slightly and said, "Natalie hasn't seen much of the world since she's just graduated. You should give her more guidance." Liesel didn't say no. Setting everything else aside, she did need to hand over the work she had in handâit was her responsibility as an employee. She headed downstairs, running into Natalie on her way. The latter was a rookie and a greenhorn, so some of the veterans had tricked her into buying them over a dozen cups of coffee. She hurried around with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, looking obedient yet silly. She faltered when she saw Liesel. "Lieâ" She seemed to think of something and stuck out her tongue. "Ms. Liesel." Liesel frowned at her and said, "You're here as Mr. Ford's secretary, not to run errands. Set the coffee aside and come with me." Natalie paled. Still, she did as told and followed Liesel. Everyone else in the department settled down. Liesel had no intention of picking on Natalie. After all, banishing the latter to the countryside again wouldn't bring Heather back to life. Besides, before her death, Heather had already lost interest in being mad at the Sharp family. "These are the most recently saved files. This is a list of things to pay attention to when working with Mr. Ford, and this is his latest schedule," Liesel said. "Avoid wearing too many accessories during work unless necessary for a gathering or business meeting. "As a secretary, what's more important is your ability to think on your feet and react to whatever that's happened." Natalie blinked as a light blush spread across her cheeks. "Is this one not allowed, too? Mr. Ford gave this to me, and I quite like it. Can't I wear it?" Liesel's gaze flitted past the necklace she wore. It took her aback for a split second. She'd like that particular necklace for some time. Once, Jacob had nonchalantly asked her, "Do all little ladies like accessories like that?" It turned out he was getting it for Natalie. "That's up to you." Liesel lowered her gaze to conceal the emotions in her eyes. Her tone remained calm as she continued, "It's fine as long as it doesn't affect your work." Natalie smiled sweetly without saying anything else. Liesel showed her the ropes and gave her a run-through of the overall workflow. When she was done, Natalie said, "I get the feeling that you don't really like me, Liesel. Is it because of Mr. Ford?" Liesel looked at her. She didn't avert her gaze. Instead, she just smiled and continued, "It's hard to tell who's wrong and right when it comes to matters of the heartâit was the same with my mother and our father. Whatever it is, I still want to be friends with youâŠ" "Natalie." Liesel stopped her there. "Morals and ethics still bind all matters of the heart. You wouldn't have been banished to the countryside if not for that. Do only what you must, and stop thinking everyone around you is a fool." Jeffrey had had an affair, which led to Natalie's birth. Even if Heather was already dead, Liesel didn't think she could shamelessly forgive Natalie's mother on Heather's behalf, let alone allow Natalie to do the forgiving. What right did Natalie have to talk about right or wrong? Liesel turned and left. She returned to her office and texted Jacob. "Do you have time to get the divorce settled today, Mr. Ford? Let's get that divorce certificate." He didn't stand her up. They met at the courthouse at 2:00 pm. Liesel signed whatever papers she needed to and looked at him. "It's all ready. Your turn to sign." She hadn't had time to change her outfit before leaving the office, so she still wore a professional-looking women's suit. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, which framed her aloof yet delicate face. She looked beautiful. Jacob watched her for a while before looking away. "You seem to be in quite a rush." "Hmm? No, I'm not," Liesel answered after a beat. "We've already signed the papers. There's no point in dragging this out." He didn't say anything else and quickly signed. After they got their divorce certificates and left the courthouse, Jacob looked at her. "All better now?" "Yep." She nodded. She was about to leave when he got in his car and rolled down the window. "I'll drop you back." Liesel hesitated. She was about to turn him down when a wave of nausea washed over her, making her retch. When she returned to her senses, she saw Jacob watching her with narrowed eyes. "Are you conceived?" Her heart sank. It had been a month since they'd last slept. He'd been rather rough that night and hadn't used any protection. But things couldn't be that coincidental, right? Could she have gotten conceived from that one time? She clenched her fists. "I can't be." He was about to say something else when his phone rang. He answered it. When he hung up, his brows were furrowed. "I have work to do." He looked at her pointedly. "We can't have children, Liesel. I hope this is just a coincidence." Liesel's heart clenched, but she didn't say anything. Throughout her and Jacob's three-year marriage, they'd always been careful with preventive measures. That time a month ago was the only time neither of them had done anything. But how could she have conceived so easily? She pushed the thought out of her mind and took a cab back to the company. When she arrived, she noticed the tension in the air. A colleague leaned close to her and whispered in trepidation, "There's been a problem with the products from Hardin Group. That new secretary signed the papers during the handover without checking the stock properly." Liesel frowned. She'd deliberately reminded Natalie to check everything before signing for them. It didn't help that Hardin Group was more cunning than others. This wasn't their first time trying to pull something like this. Shortly after, her assistant came and said, "Mr. Ford wants to see you, Ms. Sharp." Liesel pushed open the door to Jacob's office. Natalie stood inside. Her nose was red, and she was biting her lip. She looked pitiful yet adorable. Her words made Liesel frown, though. "I'm sorry, Jake. I had no idea I needed to check everything when accepting the stock. Ms. Liesel did tell me to check the items but didn't caution me that Hardin Group would be so cunning. It's all my faultâŠ" Jacob looked at Liesel coldly. "Nat's just graduated, so she knows nothing about these things. You know very well what Hardin Group is capable of. Why didn't you give her a heads-up?" Chapter 3 Liesel's heart twinged slightly, but she said calmly, "I reminded Ms. Natalie about the stock handover. The office has surveillance cameras. You can check the footage if you don't believe me, Mr. Ford." Natalie paled. Tears welled in her eyes, and she said pitifully, "I-I probably didn't hear you because my mind wandered. That's why I made such a mistake." Liesel ignored her. "We can't let Hardin Group manipulate us for stocks worth millions. I'll handle this, but the company also has rules to uphold. Natalie will need to be reprimanded accordingly." She turned and left the office to check on the stocks. Now that they'd already been accepted, from a legal perspective, Ford Corporation had no choice but to swallow its woes and live with the situation. Still, there was hope for this. Uriah Hardin, the third son of the Hardin family, managed Hardin Group. However, his brother, Elijah Hardin, was the second son and favored by his family. He also wanted to usurp Uriah's position. If she could turn this matter into a power play, she could turn the tables on Hardin Group. At 8:00 pm, Liesel and Elijah met at a restaurant. His roguish, flippant look landed on her. "Have you invited the wrong man, Ms. Sharp? I'm not the one who calls the shots at Hardin Group, nor am I interested in you." Liesel was beautiful but too boring in his eyes. He liked his women obedient and gentle. They were cuter that way. Liesel ignored his words and placed a document before him. "These are some of the tracks Mr. Uriah has left in the industry over the years, Mr. Elijah. I won't beat around the bushâI don't believe you're uninterested in Hardin Group. Take him down, and this deal with Ford Corporation will be yours." The flippant look in Elijah's eyes faded away. He narrowed his eyes and appraised her with interest. His mother wasn't his father, Richard Hardin's first wife, and Richard favored Uriah over him. But was there anyone in the Hardin family who didn't want to have something to do with the company? After a long silence, he drawled, "What's in it for you if I take him down?" "I need you to switch out the subpar products Hardin Group has just supplied to Ford Corporation. Cooperating with you is also good for us because you don't pull dirty tricks." Liesel didn't mind pulling a few tricks when doing business, but Uriah's methods were too lowbrow. She was scornful of him. Elijah looked at her. Then, he raised his glass and said meaningfully, "I hope things will work out the way you wish, Ms. Sharp." A few tables away, Jacob's assistant, Jesse Lane, noticed Liesel. In a low voice, he told Jacob, "Ms. Sharp is here, too, Mr. Ford." Jacob followed his line of sight and frowned slightly. Elijah had a reputation for being a dandyâwhat was Liesel doing with him? Liesel didn't notice Jacob. She and Elijah soon ended their discussion; Jesse approached her then. He said, "Mr. Ford is waiting for you, Ms. Sharp." Elijah glanced at him before turning back to Liesel. "You should consider joining Hardin Group if you ever get sick of being at Ford Corporation, Ms. Sharp. We always know a good thing when we see it." A woman with nothing but good looks would quickly become boring, but she would be a valuable resource if she were beautiful and brainy. Liesel didn't respond to Elijah's words. Instead, she politely bid him farewell before following Jesse to Jacob's car. It was 11:00 pm, and the night breeze was rather chilly. Liesel's lips were a little pale as she got into the car. She lowered her eyes, and her wrists were briefly exposed underneath her suit jacket. It made her seem rather weak and pitiful. Jacob frowned. He'd never noticed her being this skinny. "Have you settled the problem with Hardin Group?" She nodded, looking tired. "Yeah. Elijah is harder to deal with than Uriah, but he's already agreed to switch out the subpar products. We'll just need to send someone to handle the handover." Jacob's gaze flitted past her. "Natalie is young and naive. You can't completely blame her for this." Liesel paused before saying softly, "You're Ford Corporation's CEO. It's up to you how you want to handle her." Natalie was young, huh? She'd been even younger than Natalie when joining Ford Corporation, but Jacob had never cut her any slack. "I've yet to tell Grandpa about the divorce," he said, switching the subject. Vincent Ford had been recuperating at home these past years and couldn't be aggravated. Even if Liesel and Jacob had never been the most loving couple, Vincent probably still couldn't handle the news of their divorce. Liesel looked down. "Got it. I'll tell him about this when the time is right." Jacob didn't say anything else. Liesel had had a bit to drink without eating anything. After a while, she curled up in her seat and drifted off. Her face was pale. When Jacob noticed something was wrong with her, he frowned. He was about to instruct Jesse to take them to the hospital when she woke up. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice hoarse. He said, "I'm taking you to the hospital." Liesel's heart skipped a beat as she thought of something. However, she kept her tone nonchalant and said, "There's no need for that. My stomach just feels a little upset. I'll be fine after resting at home." Jacob looked at her. His gaze was deep and sharp. It was as if he could read her thoughts. After a while, he said, "Fine." She relaxed. Back home, she called Chelsea and said a little grimly, "Buy me a test." ⊠The following day, Liesel was supposed to attend a welcome-back party for Alex Stone, one of her and Jacob's mutual friends. Alex had called her before his return to invite her to the party. Perhaps it was because he'd heard about the divorce and wanted to help them reconcile. The party was already in full swing when Liesel arrived. She heard Alex's voice through the door. "Have you and Liesel really divorced? Was it because of Natalie?" Liesel faltered, her hand on the doorknob. After a pause, Jacob said, "It has nothing to do with Natalie. Liesel and I aren't a good match." "Tsk. How are you two not a good match?" Alex asked. "I think Liesel is fantastic. She's pretty, intelligent, and has won many people's recognition at Ford Corporation. Why are you so obsessed with Natalie? Don't forget that Liesel saved you in the past. Sometimes, some things are just too little, too late." He'd met Natalie before and could tell she was nothing but a young woman with a few tricks up her sleeve. She couldn't compare to Liesel. Liesel had managed to save Jacob from the hands of his abductors. How could someone like Natalie compare to her bravery and determination? Jacob would have much to regret if he and Liesel really were to divorce. This time, Jacob remained silent for a longer time. Then he said, "You can't force matters of the heart." Liesel lowered her eyes and slowly clenched her fists. Alex stopped trying to change Jacob's mind. Instead, he said, "You'd better think this through. You may not like her, but plenty of others do." Liesel didn't linger. She texted Alex on WhatsApp and told him she wasn't attending the party because she had to attend to something else. Then, she asked Chelsea out. Chelsea gave her the test and asked hesitantly, "You're not really conceived, are you, Lili?" Chapter 4 Liesel held the test tightly. "I'm not sure yet." Her period had yet to come this month, and the retching from before⊠She suspected something was up. "What are you going to do if you are?" Chelsea looked at her hesitantly. "Will Jacob accept it?" Liesel dropped her gaze. Jacob would never want a child she'd brought into the world. Besides, they were already divorcedâit was bad for them both if she were to keep the child⊠even if it was one she'd longed for in the past. After a long silence, she said, "No, he won't. There's no point in keeping lingering attachments or forcing someone to do something against their will. If I'm conceived, I'll lose the baby." She'd waited for a baby that hadn't come over the past three years. Now, it was long past the time for that. Liesel was in a bad mood, so she didn't do the test on the spot. Instead, she and Chelsea had some drinks. Well, she only had a sip or two of a drink with the lowest possible wine content. She only remembered the test when she arrived at the company the following day. She headed to the bathroom and did the test. Then, she was dumbstruck when she saw the two lines on it. She was conceived⊠with Jacob's child. Her face turned pale. Just then, someone entered the bathroom. In her panic, she threw the test into the trashcan and clenched her fists. Was she really going to lose her and Jacob's child? A pang of pain swept past her heart. Liesel was in a meeting but she was distracted. When it was over, a colleague leaned close to her, looking excited to share gossip. "Did you hear, Ms. Sharp? Someone from our department is conceived." The competition within Ford Corporation had always been intense, and carrying a baby was something that would easily affect one's career and ascension up the ladder. The colleague couldn't help saying gleefully, "I wonder who it is. They're being hush-hush about this, aren't they?" Liesel's heart skipped a beat. She looked up and happened to meet Jacob's cool, calm gaze. He said, "Come to my office, Ms. Sharp." She clenched her fists. When she entered Jacob's office, he said, "I'll have Jesse take you for an examination in a couple of days." Her heart stuttered, and she blurted out, "It's not me." "This is just to be safe. I'm sure you don't want any trouble to arise from this." Liesel couldn't stop him. She could only suppress her panic and say, "Okay." Natalie came her way when she left the office. The former bit her lip and said uneasily, "What happened last time was a misunderstanding, Ms. Liesel. You won't get mad at me for that, will you? I had no idea Hardin Group would pull such a dirty trick and try to stuff subpar products on us!" "That's none of my business," Liesel said indifferently. "The company has its system for rewards and punishments. You'll have to bear the consequences of your mistakes. It's as simple as that." She had nothing much to say to Natalie. Setting aside their relationship, she'd always drawn a clear line between her professional and private lives. There was no need to drag personal grudges into work. Natalie sighed in relief. "It's Dad's birthday next week, Liesel. He hasn't seen you for so long. How about you come home so we can celebrate as a family?" Jeffrey's birthday was a week after Heather's death anniversary. Liesel looked at Natalie and said, "I'm not in the mood to scheme and play mind games with you, Natalie. "If you're not a complete idiot, you'll understand what I mean when I say your father's birthday isn't a good day for me and my mother." Natalie faltered. Then, her face turned red, and she said, "I know it's only a week after Heather's death anniversary, but you can't revive the dead. We still have to celebrate Dad's birthday since he's alive, right? "I've never blamed Heather for banishing me to the countryside, so why do you have to keep holding a grudge against Dad?" "You know very well why my mother sent you to the countryside," Liesel said icily. "If I were to forgive the person who'd caused her death and even celebrate his birthday, it wouldn't prove that I'm generous enough to bury the hatchet. It would just show that I'm heartless." Natalie blanched. Her eyes turned red as tears welled in them. "I didn't mean anything else by this, Liesel. I justâ" "I don't care what you meant," Liesel interrupted. "When at work, we're nothing more than colleagues. You should focus on your work, Ms. Natalie." She turned and left, not wanting to play mind games with Natalie. She took the afternoon off to head to the hospital. It didn't even occur to her what Natalie thought of her words. Unfortunately, it seemed Natalie was more cowardly than she'd expected. The former had been so absent-minded while walking that she'd twisted her ankle. Jacob brought her to the hospital. "Congratulations. You're six weeks conceived." Liesel happened to run into Jacob, who was holding Natalie up, when she was leaving the hospital with her report. The doctor's words reverberated in her mind. "Your body cannot handle the surgery, Ms. Sharp. If you proceed with it, you might not be able to conceive in the future. I'd advise you to think this through." Liesel felt bitter. She was conceived with Jacob's child, which was something to be happy and expectant about. But would he allow her to keep it? Jacob noticed the look on her face while Natalie hesitantly called out to her. "LieâMs. Liesel." Jacob's gaze flitted past her. "What are you doing here?" She hid her report behind her and said softly, "I came for a follow-up check because my cold isn't completely gone yet." He narrowed his eyes at her. Natalie seemed to notice something and tugged his sleeve. She looked a little glum. "You should have something to discuss with Ms. Sharp, Mr. Ford. I'll head back first." Jacob frowned but didn't make her stay. "I'll have someone take you back." She nodded obediently. Liesel sighed in relief and stuffed the report into her bag. When she and Jacob were in his car, he glanced at her. "Are you that nervous to be around me? The more you act like this, the more I'll think you're conceived." She subconsciously wanted to deny it but forced herself to smile. She asked, "What will you do if I really am conceived, then?" "Make you lose it," he said without hesitation as he looked her in the eye. She knew it. A pang of pain swept past her heart, and she shook her head as she said bitterly, "It's just a cold." Jacob scrutinized her for a while before saying, "I heard you and Nat got into a small fight today, leading to her twisting her ankle while heading downstairs. "She's young and naive but is kind. She also doesn't get into arguments with others that easily. You should be nicer to her and be more accommodating if anything happens in the future." Liesel's bitterness bubbled up in her. No one in this world could avoid being more favorable to certain people. She said, "She's not a child, Mr. Ford. There's nothing for me to accommodate." Chapter 5 Liesel looked at Jacob. Her tone was calm as she said, "I don't owe Natalie anything, nor do I owe you. Work-wise, I'm only her senior. Regarding my personal life, my mother didn't owe her anything. "Natalie came knocking on our door when her mother chose to marry another. No woman can accept her husband's illegitimate daughter. She might have had Natalie sent to the countryside, but Natalie was also given more than enough money to survive there. "I don't owe her, whether professionally or personally. Why should I be more accommodating and tolerant of her? Why should I back down when facing off against her?" When she finished her speech, silence descended upon the car. Jacob looked at her. She wore a simple dress that clung to her curves, and her delicate features were arranged into her usual mask of aloofness. There was something cold and tenacious about her. She was so brilliant that one could almost neglect her beauty. His gaze flitted over her eyes. After a moment of silence, he said gently, "I'm sorry. I didn't handle this matter appropriately." Liesel didn't say anything. He looked her in the eye and said, "I shouldn't have made you suppress yourself and back down for Natalie's sake. You're a wonderful woman, Liesel. Even though we're divorced now, I still hope you'll live your own life." She clenched her fists and tried to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't deny that she really, really liked Jacob. However, certain things just couldn't be forced. ⊠Liesel headed home. She had someone ask around about the doctor Jacob was going to arrange to examine her. Meanwhile, Chelsea was worried. "Can't you just tell him the truth? He might not be that cruel. You two were together for three years, after all." "I'd rather not." Liesel caressed her belly. She was silent for a while before saying, "Since I can't lose the child, there's no need to let Jacob know about this. We're already divorced, and this child is part of my life now. I'll need your help dealing with the doctor." Whatever it was, she couldn't let Jacob find out about the baby. Chelsea didn't object. She seemed to think of something and said, "Natalie used to intern at Shifter Corporation. Do you think it's just a coincidence, or does she know something?" This came as a surprise to Liesel. Natalie had interned at Shifter Corporation? Did she know it belonged to Liesel, or⊠It piqued Liesel's suspicions, but she didn't dwell on the matter. "It's probably just a coincidence. She graduated from Alden University, and Shifter Corporation does campus recruitments there, too." Chelsea had only brought it up since it had occurred to her. She smiled and said, "Mr. Shifter and Neal should be back soon, right? I'm sure you'll feel more secure with them around." Neal Shifter was Jonathan's son, and the Shifter family had been managing Shifter Corporation on Liesel's behalf all these years. Since Heather's passing, the Shifters had become like family to Liesel. She smiled, and a rare hint of relief flashed in her eyes. ⊠The following day, news of Uriah's downfall broke out. Elijah looked like a dandy but had surprisingly ruthless methods. He'd gotten someone to leak information on the dirty tricks Uriah had pulled to the paparazzi. Coincidentally, Uriah had recently murdered someone while driving under the influence and had gotten a scapegoat to take the fall. Thanks to everything being lumped together, he was soon arrested. Elijah had proper quality stocks delivered to Ford Corporation in exchange for the subpar stocks. When Liesel went to handle the handover, he watched her with interest. "Don't you trust me, Ms. Sharp?" He raised an eyebrow and eyed the light sheen of sweat at her temples. His gaze turned pointed. She smiled and blinked at him. "I wouldn't put it that way. Better safe than sorry, right?" Her smile and rare moment of slyness made her glow. Her eyes were so bright. Elijah smirked at the sight. It looked like the rumors about her couldn't be trusted at all. She was much more interesting than those naive young women. Jacob and Natalie happened to see this. Natalie approached with a smile and said, "You and Ms. Liesel seem to get along very well, Mr. Hardin. It looks like this matter was a blessing in disguise." Her tone was light-hearted and lively, which carried a hint of a young woman's naivety and cheer. Her words made one's imagination wander, though. It was as if Liesel and Elijah were more involved than they seemed. Jacob's expression darkened when he took in the smile on Liesel's face. Then, he said coolly, "Sorry to have troubled you over this, Mr. Hardin." "Oh, it was no trouble at all." Elijah smiled meaningfully. "Nothing is considered troublesome when I have someone as gorgeous as Ms. Liesel attending to me." "Ms. Liesel has always drawn a clear line between work and pleasure. You might have gotten the wrong idea, Mr. Hardin." Jacob's gaze flitted over Liesel. Elijah's smile widened. "Drawing a clear line between work and pleasure isn't the same as being heartless. One has to be thick-skinned when pursuing a woman, right? Or are you interfering in your employee's personal life, Mr. Ford?" Jacob faltered. Then, he said, "I'll leave you to it, Mr. Hardin." He turned and left with Natalie in tow. Liesel watched them. Her gaze was aloof. However, Elijah saw the glumness deep inside. He said, "Your precious Mr. Ford isn't all that great. Why don't you consider other fish in the sea?" There was a hint of amorosity to his words. Liesel returned to her senses and chuckled. "I remember you saying that I'm not your type, Mr. Hardin. Have you changed your mind?" Elijah looked at her. If he had to be honest, she was too stubborn and inflexible for his tastes. She was indeed not his type. Yet she was pretty and intelligent enough to mask her inflexibility. "Not really." He leaned closer. "But I'll make an exception for you. You should really consider my proposal." Liesel didn't take his words to heart. She was just glad she'd managed to resolve the stock problem and prevent Ford Corporation from suffering any losses. Jacob punished Natalie by docking three months of her pay and bonuses. Then, he paid Liesel double her salary. The colleagues in Liesel's department were pleased when she returned. "I'll admit itâI can't stand those who got in here because of their connections. Anyone else would've been fired ages ago." "I know, right? She's supposed to have graduated from Alden University, yet she made such a huge mistake immediately after taking over as Mr. Ford's secretary. Even if we were to talk about looks alone, it's not like she can compare with Ms. Sharp! I wonder what Mr. Ford sees in herâŠ" Ford Corporation was one of the biggest in the industry, so it was harder for rookies to find their footing there compared to other companies. Their situation would only be worse if they didn't have the skills to back themselves up. It wasn't appropriate for Liesel to comment on the subject, but she knew it wasn't right to pick on Natalie like that. "Stop." She could feel a headache coming on as she stopped the gossip. "She's just a young woman who's new to this. You guys should focus on your work. I'll treat everyone to a nice meal in a couple of days, okay?" Only then did the crowd zip their lips and get back to work. Liesel needed to hand a contract to Jacob now that she was done with the matter with Hardin Corporation. She headed to his office and was about to knock when she heard Natalie's voice. Inside the room, Natalie bit her lip. Her eyes were red as she said, "I'm too useless, aren't I, Jake? Everyone says I can't compare to Ms. Liesel." Jacob frowned, and a hint of displeasure flashed in his eyes. He wiped her tears and said, "What's the point of comparing yourself to her? You two aren't the same." Liesel faltered outside the door. She only pushed it open after a beat. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14615&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=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}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462258138_523943137164426_369908901029657521_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p3VguCSW7FMQ7kNvgExbbaR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHsWsNnJTuJhI2qvQ8J-O0X&oh=00_AYC2xYrII-CI-dNfi8GzQMXWP_FhDmjVO2hDpDQ8eGCGWQ&oe=674D78BD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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