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Yes 2024-11-16 19:27 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1NRUIHr6JOYQ7kNvgFZmm5E&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AATNGS7cvPe5ZZPuqXCImiN&oh=00_AYDwGGNWqYusKSL3uiDw4Li7nzO4DEWuLnmCrgysYDOfMw&oe=673F20F2 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:28 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "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." At Grace Mansion, Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, spoke to his wife, determination and a trace of guilt in his face. Carissa Sinclair stared at her husband--she had waited for a whole year, her eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa replied coldly. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward! “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, and her six brothers had all sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates for a full hour before they were let in. 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." "Another edict?" Holding back tears, Carissa looked up with determined eyes. She pleaded, "Your Majesty, General Warren and General Yates sought the marriage edict with their military achievements. Today is the death anniversary of my father and brothers. Based on my late family's military merits, I wish to seek an edict-- An amicable divorce with General Warren." LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464333883_539427592316325_3288990928559249073_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qObtGUH2W1oQ7kNvgFcoX1d&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AfAh0CLYEiyOIBnN8DAhdCZ&oh=00_AYAVPea5QaJP3YQa5a9Njqww3Xie4rUD4A_Bmwxq25JIYg&oe=673F1E41 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:31 active 1824 0 Read more FREE chapters👉 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..." LEARN_MORE https://beokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14193&ut Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 beokn.com DCO https://beokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14193&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/t39.35426-6/459755593_1105701324734040_9078936164206274743_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=c6iwnqpkLLwQ7kNvgHXixHH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXE_DT5DAYznnR9um16znjq&oh=00_AYAgTYWnQEtjYrRwTebp3p7cJfcSeyIyHDmqbbpp-IV5yQ&oe=673F2C5D PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:32 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462270349_913285414184071_7098710230358548236_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8Jp8T9A1j7wQ7kNvgHR1GJj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AS10I6N-IQd1W5yRL8_3B4V&oh=00_AYBpPL5F3KO5Fo9l1lspQEi03X9fZ26aWHBCM1DsVaeV4A&oe=673F2CB9 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:31 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ Chapter 1 "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she passed away because of postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. He cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." Chapter2 Juan also looked over. A red figure stood out in the crowd. Debra, clad in a burgundy dress, seemed to captivate hearts with every gesture. Cameras flashed at her like she was a reigning superstar walking the red carpet. 'Debra?' Juan took a moment to recognize her. In the past, Debra preferred light makeup and plain dresses. This was the first time Juan had seen her like this. Seeing Debra for the first time, Shelia was filled with jealousy. Compared to the alluring Debra, she seemed too plain. "Debra looks stunning." Shelia's tone carried a subtle envy. Debra spotted them and walked over. Shelia thought Debra, unaware of her relationship with Juan, would be surprised or awkward, but Debra was poised and smiling. "Mrs. Nichols is here. Who's the lady beside Mr. Nichols?" whispered a reporter. Debra approached, linking her arm with Juan's, and extended a hand towards Shelia. "You must be Shelia mentioned by Juan. Nice to meet you! I'm Debra. You can call me Mrs. Nichols." Shelia withdrew her hand from Juan's and shook hands with Debra. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nichols," Shelia said awkwardly. "Juan told me that he sponsored you. You're going to study abroad, right?" Debra said. Shelia glanced at Juan. "Shelia excels in her studies. She's planning to go abroad this year, but she's a bit timid, so I brought her here today to broaden her horizons," Juan said. He had brought Shelia here to see the world of the upper class. Juan hadn't completely fallen for Shelia yet. It was only after Shelia returned from abroad that Juan fell in love with her. Even so, Juan attended all kinds of events with Shelia, to the point where everyone in Seamar City knew that Juan liked a college girl. But none of this mattered to Debra anymore. She came to the auction not to compete with Shelia but for a more important purpose. "Well then, take good care of Miss Miles. I'm going in," Debra said, letting go of Juan's arm. Juan was stunned. He hadn't expected these words to come from Debra's mouth. By the time he realized it, Debra had already get into the venue. Juan frowned. 'When did the unruly Debra become so agreeable?' Debra sat in an inconspicuous corner. The auction venue was filled with influential figures. If she remembered correctly, an abandoned piece of land that nobody wanted was bought by an obscure merchant at this auction. Later, because of the upscale developments around it, the land became valuable. The successful investment elevated the merchant's status, making him a commercial magnate. Since she had decided to leave Juan, Debra wanted to build up her own assets. After sitting down, Juan searched for Debra's figure. Beside him, Shelia asked, "Mr. Nichols, do you really want me to bid on your behalf?" Juan's attention returned, and he said, "Yes, I trust your judgment." Shelia blushed. She had studied finance for so long at school, just for this day. On the second floor, Debra watched them chat happily. Shelia indeed had some talent, which was one of the reasons why Juan would be attracted to her. In her last life, Shelia had once identified a prime piece of land, which impressed Juan. But that piece of land was valuable, to begin with. The Nichols Group's properties were around it, and Shelia inflated the price with Juan's money. In the end, the value of the land and the surrounding properties all increased, so Juan couldn't lose. Even without Shelia, Juan would have secured that piece of land. As the auction started, Shelia began to bid. She successfully won the first three prime pieces of land. Juan sat beside Shelia like a guardian. "The price of Crescent Manor starts at one billion." "Two billion." Debra's bidding caused a collective gasp. Juan frowned. What's gotten into this woman? Shelia whispered, "This piece of land isn't worth much. Debra's going to lose money." Juan texted Debra. [What are you doing?] Debra read the message and ignored it. "Two billion once!" "Two billion twice!" ... "Is Debra crazy? Two billion for this piece of junk?" On the second floor, Randy was flabbergasted. "Three billion," Marion bid. Randy nearly flipped the table. "Marion! Are you insane too?" Across from them, Debra frowned. She wanted to know who was crazy enough to compete with her for this wasteland, only to see Marion. She vaguely remembered Marion was doing gray business. 'When did he start real estate development?' "Four billion!" Debra raised the stakes. Downstairs, Juan furrowed his brow and texted her again. [Debra, shut up!] Debra simply turned off her phone. "Five billion," Marion said. His provocation annoyed Debra. 'Alright, you want to play? Let's play.' "Ten billion!" she bid. "What! She's gone mad!" Randy exclaimed. Juan stood up, losing his composure. He couldn't quite grasp Debra's intentions. To him, this piece of land wasn't even worth one billion. Yet Debra was offering ten billion. Marion smiled at Debra and made a gesture of concession. "Ten billion!" The auctioneer exclaimed, "Any further bids? Ten billion, going once, going twice. Sold!" As the gavel fell, a weight lifted off Debra's heart. The land was finally hers, but she had unnecessarily spent an extra eight billion. It was all because of Marion. She glared at him. Randy nudged Marion, "Hey, Debra's glaring at you. If I were her, I'd probably be plotting your demise." Marion shrugged indifferently. Downstairs, Shelia tugged at Juan. "Mr. Nichols, Debra is going to make you bankrupt." "She set her own price. No one will help her pay the bills," Juan said. Chapter 3 Due to this episode, Juan's attention was solely on Debra. Shelia's performance was completely ignored. When the auction ended, Debra was about to leave when she bumped into Juan and Shelia. "Debra, if you don't understand real estate, don't mess around," Juan said bluntly. Shelia chimed in, "Yeah, Debra. Your actions have cost Mr. Nichols ten billion." Debra chuckled, "Miss Miles, you misunderstand. This piece of land is mine to get. What does it have to do with Juan?" Shelia blurted out, "But that's ten billion." "It's just pocket change for me, not to mention for her." From not far away, Randy's voice came. "Isn't that right, Ms. Frazier?" Debra caught sight of Marion and said, "It's just a plaything for purchase." Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Ten billion meant nothing to Juan and Debra. In front of these people, Shelia felt inferior. "Heard Mr. Nichols got married. Is the lady beside him Mrs. Nichols?" Marion chimed in. Shelia blushed, stammering, "N-no." "This is my wife, Debra," Juan said, pulling Debra close. Debra tried to shake off Juan's hand, but he held on tight. Since earlier, he had felt Marion's gaze on Debra. Men understood men best. He could see through Marion's thoughts. "So, Ms. Frazier is Mrs. Nichols. It's my bad. I saw Mr. Nichols chatting with this lady in the venue earlier, thinking she was Mrs. Nichols." Randy slapped his head. "Then this lady must be Mr. Nichols's secretary. No wonder she was holding up signs for Mr. Nichols earlier." Debra almost burst out laughing. Though she didn't care about Shelia and Juan anymore, hearing Randy's words still made her pleased. Shelia was totally embarrassed. "Joe, take Shelia home," Juan requested. "Yes, sir," Joe agreed. Randy grinned, "We'll get out of your hair. Bye!" After Randy and Marion left, Debra shook off Juan's hand. "Had enough?" Juan didn't expect Debra to pull away. Before, Debra couldn't wait to touch him. She seemed different tonight. "If you're trying to get my attention, you don't need to do this," Juan said. Debra was speechless. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't find the right words. Considering how much she cared about Juan in the past, she might have done so. But she wasn't that person anymore. "Whatever!" Debra shrugged. "Wait." Juan stopped her. "What now?" "What's your relationship with Marion?" "I don't even know him." Juan spoke coldly. "No matter what your relationship is with him, you are Mrs. Nichols in public. You better watch your identity and keep your distance from other men." Debra scoffed, "Before you demand anything from others, how about demanding it from yourself? Did you consider your status and my reputation when you brought Shelia here today?" "I had Joe inform you today." "Oh? Is it to tell me not to come?" Juan remained silent. He knew he was in the wrong. "Even Marion, an outsider, mistook Shelia for Mrs. Nichols. If you like her, let's get a divorce," Debra said. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?" Juan frowned. Although he didn't love Debra, it didn't mean he wanted a divorce. Their marriage was based on interests. It was not something one person could dissolve. From Juan's serious expression, Debra could tell that he wasn't thinking of divorce now, but it was only because of her family. In a few years, when she became worthless, he would discard her like trash. Thinking of the miserable end of her last life, she'd rather end it now than wait for that moment. "I said, let's divorce." The next day, news of Debra's extravagant purchase of wasteland swept through major platforms. Debra was the sole heiress to the Frazier family, and ten billion was just a figure for her. However, with her family's businesses operating, she had limited liquid assets. It was not easy for her to raise the money. Debra lay on the bed, rubbing her brows. 'Should I find Juan? No.' He left without a word yesterday when she proposed a divorce. She couldn't understand. She was even willing to relinquish the Frazier family's wealth to him, yet he still didn't want a divorce. But besides Juan, who else could she turn to? Suddenly, Debra sat up. She had an idea. "Marion!" People in high society were in one circle. Debra managed to contact Marion through her connections. Debra remembered that Marion's influence was overseas, but in recent years, he had stationed himself in Seamar City. Others might not know why, but she did. In the coming years, Marion would rapidly take over local enterprises, competing head-to-head with Juan. In the conference room, Marion played with his lighter. Debra got straight to the point. "I want to borrow eight billion from you." Randy spat out his tea. He'd seen straightforward, but never this blunt. "Ms. Frazier, that's a large amount of money." Debra blinked. "Last time you said ten billion was nothing." "I just rolled the logs for you, and you're giving me a hard time." Randy shook his head. Beautiful women were always a bit sick in their heads. Marion flicked his lighter. "Why should I lend you any money?" "I could've secured Crescent Manor with two billion, but because of your meddling, I have to pay an extra." "Not a convincing reason." Debra fell silent for a moment before saying, "Your industries are all overseas, but for the past two years, you've been frequenting Seamar City. I guess you want to launder your overseas money here. Am I right?" Randy paused his tea-drinking motion, subconsciously glancing at Marion. He didn't expect Debra to understand these things. Chapter 4 The room fell silent for a moment. Marion smirked and said, "Mrs. Nichols, you can't wrongly accuse good people." "Yeah, we're all legitimate businessmen," Randy chimed in. "In the realm of legitimate business, it's not up to me to judge. But I think Juan might be interested," Debra said. "I'm just a clueless rich girl, while Juan isn't. If I tell him what happened, I wonder if he'll take notice." "You're sneaky!" Randy couldn't contain his frustration. Debra looked at Marion seriously. "Lend me eight billion, and I'll pay you back with interest in three years." Randy's eyes widened. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much interest that'll be? If you can't pay it back, we'll lose eight billion. You're Juan's wife. Who can hold you accountable?" "I know the interest. I'll sign a contract with you. If I can't repay, I'll give you my family's properties and stocks, and I'll work for you for the rest of my life." Randy paused and continued, "And besides, my marriage with Juan might not last three years. Even if I'm still his wife then, he won't protect me." Marion looked up and stared at Debra for a while. Randy's ears perked up as he smelled gossip. But he quickly composed himself. "No, I disagree!" But Marion agreed, "Okay, I'll lend it to you." "What?" Randy jumped up from his chair. "Have you gone mad?" "I'll have the finance department transfer the money to you. We'll draft the contract later," Marion said. "Marion!" Randy stomped his foot. "Thank you, Mr. Houston." Debra stood up, saying, "I'll await your message. Happy cooperation." She smiled and left the office. Randy ground his teeth. "That's eight billion! Are you out of your mind? She's Juan's wife! Why would you lend her money?" Marion grinned. "She's pretty." "Why should you get the girl while I pay?" Randy exclaimed. Marion stood up, tossed a bank card to Randy, and said, "I pursue the woman I fancy. It's only right that I foot the bill." "What? Foot the bill? She's Juan's wife! What bill are you talking about?" Randy ranted. Ignoring his protest, Marion walked out of the office. "Both of you are insane!" Randy muttered. Debra had just stepped into the Nichols family's mansion when she saw Juan sitting in the living room. She frowned. In her last life, Juan rarely came home. 'When did he become so attached to home?' Assuming he was just lounging around, she turned to go upstairs. "Debra!" Juan called out. Debra halted. "What is it?" Juan felt uneasy about Debra's recent coldness. "The auction house is pressing for payment." "I know," Debra replied coolly. "If you don't have enough money, you can tell me," Juan said. "No need. I've sorted it out," Debra said dismissively. "Where did you get the money from?" Ten billion wasn't a small amount, and Juan knew every movable asset under the Frazier family's name. She couldn't produce such a sum on short notice. "It's my business. You don't need to concern yourself," Debra replied. "Don't forget that I'm your husband," Juan said. Debra chuckled bitterly. 'Husband?' Juan always considered it a disgrace. When did he remember he was her husband? "You're so anxious because you're afraid I'll lose money and drag down the Nichols family," Debra said. Juan fell silent. Seeing his reaction, Debra knew that she had guessed right. "I won't drag you down. I understand our marriage is a business alliance. We rise and fall together. You don't have to come home often," Debra concluded. Juan was speechless. He used to think that way, so after getting married, he was cold towards Debra and didn't even touch her. But after hearing those words from Debra, he suddenly realized his excessiveness. Juan was about to say something when suddenly a remittance message came on Debra's phone. She didn't expect Marion's actions to be so fast. In just an hour, the money arrived. With the matter resolved, Debra gave a smile. Juan pursed his lips, suddenly remembering how Debra used to follow him. She showed him the same smile, but he never cared. "There's a party tonight. You're coming with me." "Me?" Debra frowned. Juan asked, "Don't want to?" "Why don't you bring Shelia with you?" Debra was puzzled. In her last life, whenever there was a banquet, Juan would take Shelia. If her memory served her right, it was an international banquet that night. She insisted on going, but Juan brought Shelia in the end, indirectly paving the way for Shelia. For such an important occasion, why would Juan suddenly think of bringing her? "You're my wife, so naturally, you should come to such occasions with me." Debra didn't get it, thinking it was only because Shelia had something else to do. Then again, she should go to such occasions more often. To start her own business, she needed connections. "Alright then, I'll go get ready." Juan breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Debra was still willing to be the nominal Mrs. Nichols. Perhaps she wasn't completely disappointed with him yet. Shelia was in the dormitory, arranging the dress sent by Juan's secretary. Her roommates looked at Shelia with envy. "Shelia, your boyfriend is so sweet, giving you such a beautiful dress." Shelia's cheeks turned rosy. "Shelia, when will you introduce us to your boyfriend?" "Yeah, your boyfriend is so rich, and he takes you to various banquets all the time. We're curious." Shelia shook her head and said, "He's very busy. I'll introduce you to him when he's available." Shelia's phone rang. Seeing that it was a call from Juan's secretary, she answered the phone happily. "Joe, did Mr. Nichols send you to pick me up? I'll come down right away," she said. "Mr. Nichols said you don't need to come today," said Joe. Chapter 5 Shelia's smile froze. "Why?" "Mr. Nichols is taking his wife tonight, so it wouldn't be convenient for you to attend." Shelia forced a smile. "Oh, so he's taking his wife. That's great. I didn't want to go anyway." "That's good." Shelia held her phone and bit her lip. Her roommates exchanged glances. "Shelia, did your boyfriend stand you up?" "I heard this event is international. Didn't your boyfriend organize it to introduce you to some foreign entrepreneurs?" Facing their skeptical looks, Shelia managed a weak smile. "He has an important client to accompany. I shouldn't disturb him." Shelia glanced at the dress in her hands, her expression dimming. 'Juan never likes Debra. Why did he suddenly...' She tightened her grip on the dress. She had looked forward to tonight's event for so long. She couldn't just give up. As the night fell, Juan had a splendid black dress sent to Debra. He had been waiting downstairs for a while when he saw Debra descending the stairs. Though he had seen Debra in a burgundy dress the other day, seeing her in this outfit still took Juan by surprise. He hadn't realized how beautiful Debra could be. "I'm ready," Debra said, lifting her head. Juan pursed his lips. "I'll have my secretary bring the car around." Debra opened the door to see Joe waiting outside. Seeing Debra in the black dress, Joe was amazed. "Mrs. Nichols, you look stunning in this dress, better than Miss Miles." Juan glanced at him. Joe realized his mistake and quickly shut his mouth. "It's okay." Debra didn't care, and she got into the car. Juan glared at Joe and muttered, "You won't get your bonus this month." Joe felt wronged but dared not say more. That was what he got for being too talkative. Outside the club, Juan helped Debra get out of the car. People around them cast admiring glances at them. "Who's the lady with Mr. Nichols?" "Seems to be Mrs. Nichols." "I don't recall seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichols together before. They make quite the power couple." ... Juan took Debra's hand. Debra wanted to retract her hand, but with so many people around, she had to go along with Juan. Debra glanced around and saw many faces she had encountered in her last life. Juan had a certain prestige in the business world. To be able to attend such a high-level international event, the people here were all top entrepreneurs, philanthropists, or real estate tycoons. Debra had studied finance to impress Juan, but it never paid off. Suddenly, the sound of shattered glass grabbed everyone's attention. A gardener accidentally broke a vase of roses, and the manager scolded him. "Where did this old man come from? Get him out of here!" the manager barked. "Hold on." Debra stepped forward, picking up the roses from the ground. She noticed they were carefully pruned and rare. "This man ruined Mr. Houston's flowers and startled the guests. Let me have him removed," said the manager. "If it's broken, just ask him to prepare a new one," Debra said. "These roses were brought by Mr. Houston for everyone's enjoyment. How about each lady take one to appreciate his gesture?" Debra suggested. Everyone nodded, and the manager waved off the gardener. Juan stepped forward, lowering his voice. "I didn't expect you to liven up the atmosphere here." Debra shrugged. "Just trying to please Mr. Houston." Outside the club, Shelia stepped out of a taxi in a black dress, feeling strange gazes around her. She ignored them and tried to get into the club. The security guard glanced at the taxi and stopped her. "Miss, do you have an invitation?" Shelia was taken aback. She didn't know about invitations. With Juan, she could go anywhere. It was the first time she had been stopped by a security guard. "Sorry! No invitation, no entry." "I'm here to see Mr. Nichols. I'm his companion," Shelia lied. Squinting at her, the guard asked, "Mr. Nichols is already inside with Mrs. Nichols. Who are you?" Feeling the stares all around, Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Joe saw her and hurried over. "Excuse me, she's our company staff." The guard nodded, allowing Shelia through. Shelia breathed a sigh of relief, but Joe asked sternly, "Miss Miles, why are you here?" "I just wanted to broaden my horizons. Mr. Nichols always said I was too timid. I'll be going abroad in a few months, so I wanted to experience this kind of event. Joe, could you take me in?" Joe hesitated. "I'll return from studying and help Mr. Nichols. The piece of land Debra bought cost billions and was a loss. She probably doesn't understand finance. So many financial elites are here. I'm worried Mrs. Nichols won't be able to handle it," Shelia pleaded sincerely. Joe nodded in agreement. In the past, it was always Shelia by Juan's side because Debra knew nothing about finance, and Joe respected Shelia, who was talented in this area. Shelia joyfully entered the club and spotted Juan conversing with some guests not far away. She lifted the hem of her dress to run over, but she accidentally collided with an old man. The gardener's vase slipped, and the water splashed on Shelia's dress. She instinctively exclaimed and freaked out when she saw the stain. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going?" Chapter 6 Her cry pierced through the room. All eyes, including Juan's and Debra's, turned to her. In their eyes, Shelia was a rude and uncultured woman. The old gardener bent down to pick up the scattered roses and apologized profusely. Feeling the stares around her, Shelia quickly changed her attitude. "I'm sorry. I was in haste. Are you okay, sir?" Debra watched from nearby. Even though Shelia tried to fix it, it only came off as insincere. Shelia also noticed Debra beside Juan. "How did she get here?" Juan frowned. Given his expression, he seemed clueless about Shelia's arrival. Debra wondered if Shelia came on her own. Debra stayed silent. This plot was different from that of her last life. Juan brought Shelia to the party, where Shelia impressed Caleb Houston. It led to a smooth path overseas and success after graduation with support from Juan and Caleb. Debra thought that Shelia would not show up this time. Yet here she was. "Mr. Nichols!" Hearing the commotion, Joe rushed in. Juan's tone was curt. "Who let her in?" "It was me." Joe bowed his head. "I thought Miss Miles could help you." Juan rubbed his temples. He used to be very tolerant of Shelia. But in this situation, Shelia shouldn't have appeared. "Miss Miles isn't familiar with the place. Go check on her," Debra said, taking a sip of champagne. Juan saw Shelia's scared looks, and he couldn't bear to leave her alone to handle the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Debra said nothing. That was expected. He could never let go of Shelia. Juan went over and asked, "How did you come here?" Shelia lowered her head, looking pitiful. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the event." Seeing her tear up, Juan couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh. In a sense, Shelia was trained by him, and he had seen all her efforts. "I'll have Joe take you back." Seeing Juan about to leave, Shelia hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. "Mr. Nichols, can I stay?" Juan frowned. In the past, Shelia was always obedient and aware of her identity, never crossing that boundary. Shelia felt his displeasure and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Nichols. I..." Juan relented in the end. "You can stay. This event could be helpful for your overseas studies." Shelia finally broke into a sweet smile. "Can I stay with you?" Juan glanced at the surrounding crowd, concerned about leaving Shelia alone here. "Yeah." Shelia was delighted. Joe couldn't help but ask, "Sir, what about Mrs. Nichols?" "Go accompany her. Don't let her cause trouble like last time." Juan knew that Debra often attended such events, but as someone unfamiliar with finance, she was here merely to pass the time. As long as she didn't cause trouble like last time, it was fine. Debra watched as Joe approached her. Before he could say anything, she asked, "He's gone to accompany Shelia?" "Miss Miles is a key candidate for the company, so..." "I understand." Debra looked as if she was not bothered at all. Joe breathed a sigh of relief. But somehow, he felt that Debra had changed. Shelia followed Juan and confidently conversed with some bigwigs, which was noticed by Debra. Although Shelia had good grades at school, she was still just a student. In front of these seasoned businessmen, what she said wasn't very insightful. They were only praising Shelia out of respect for Juan. However, soon Shelia faced difficulty with a foreign elderly gentleman. Debra recognized that man as a financial tycoon from Dawnreach. He only spoke his native language and didn't know any foreign languages. And his translator was absent. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia bit her lip, glancing at Juan. Juan was pondering how to defuse the awkwardness when Debra approached and fluently conversed with the man. The man seemed quite pleased with what Debra said and shook hands with her. Shelia finally noticed Debra, dressed in an identical black dress. Compared to her, Debra seemed like a refined lady, while she looked like a street vendor. Shelia clenched her fists and forced a smile. "Debra, that's impressive. You can speak the Dawnreach language." Debra smiled without saying anything. Juan remembered that Debra could speak foreign languages, but Dawnreach language wasn't widely used. Not many people knew it, so he was surprised that Debra was fluent in it. "What did you say to Mr. Stephen? He seemed quite pleased," Shelia asked. "I told him that the piece of land he bought near the southeastern sea is going to get a good prince, so he's happy," Debra replied. "That piece of land will get a a good price?" Shelia looked puzzled. The land didn't seem extraordinary. "Maybe," Debra replied casually. In her last life, that piece of land did get a considerable sum. The area suddenly developed into a tourist destination, making a hefty profit from tourism. Mr. Stephen probably foresaw its development, hence his purchase. Shelia lacked that foresight. Juan stared at Debra, which made her uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Debra asked. "How did you know that the land would get a good price?" Juan said. Chapter 7 Given his expression, Juan knew that this plot of land would fetch a hefty sum. Yet he chose to let Stephen have it as a favor. That was just Juan's style. "I was just paying a compliment. You're reading too much into it," Debra replied. Juan furrowed his brow, assessing the sincerity of Debra's words. It made sense. Given Debra's intelligence, how could she see the future value of that land? Juan realized he was overthinking it. "Hope so." Juan turned away, leading Shelia to meet other people. Shelia glanced at Debra. Debra managed to capture the hint of triumph in Shelia's eyes. She downed a glass of champagne. In the eyes of others, she was just a failed woman abandoned by her husband. Her husband left her and took another woman to meet business partners. Could anything be more of a joke than this? Debra felt disheartened. She had planned to mingle with the business elites, but with Juan gone, it became difficult. How could she approach those entrepreneurs without seeming intentional? Debra scanned the surroundings and spotted a piano not far away. A smile played on Debra's lips as she got an idea. With graceful steps, Debra approached the piano and exchanged brief greetings with the pianist before sitting down. As the heiress to the Frazier family, she had to learn many things, though she never thought she'd use them. But now they had come in handy. It had been a while since Debra played the piano, so she was a bit rusty. But soon enough, the piano keys followed her fingers, producing a melodious tune that perfectly matched the atmosphere of the party. The guests were captivated by the unexpected piano music. Many turned to look in her direction, and after she finished playing, applause filled the room. Seeing Juan and the businessmen stop their conversation, Shelia kept her eyes on Debra and said, "Debra is amazing. She can play the piano." "She is a pro," Juan remarked casually. Among these people, many could play the piano, and passing relevant exams was quite common. The fact that Debra received so much applause showed her musical talent. It was then that Shelia realized the gap between her and Debra. She used to think Debra was just lucky and pretty, but utterly useless. Now she was proven wrong. She was dead wrong. After Debra finished playing, many wealthy ladies approached her for conversation. While she couldn't directly approach those business magnates, getting close to their wives made it easier to reach them. "I didn't expect Mrs. Nichols to be so talented at the piano," Randy remarked from a corner. "Not bad," Marion agreed. "You don't know music, do you?" Randy teased. "I don't, but I like it," Marion replied. He didn't understand music, but because it was Debra playing, it felt different. When she went to the restroom, Debra was pulled into a secluded corner. She tried to cry out, but the man behind her covered her mouth. "Don't make a sound," the man whispered. Feeling the warmth of his body, Debra adjusted her breathing and bit down on the man's hand. "Ouch!" he grunted in pain. "You bit me?" The man released her. Debra quickly put some distance between them and was surprised when she saw his face. "Marion?" "Who else did you think it would be?" "Why the cloak and dagger?" "I sneaked in. Don't want to be seen." "What kind of joke is this? Caleb is your..." Before Debra could finish her sentence, she immediately shut her mouth. Marion raised an eyebrow. "Hm? What were you going to say?" Debra averted her gaze. In her last life, Caleb left all his assets to Marion. It was only after that she found out the truth. But so far, no one knew Marion was Caleb's grandson. "I mean, Caleb is kind-hearted, and you're a dominant owner of overseas enterprises. Even if you snuck in, no one would dare say anything." "Maybe, but I prefer to play it safe," Marion said. "Don't tell me you snuck in here just to say these things to me." She didn't think Marion would be so boring. "This is for you." Marion handed Debra a contract. Debra looked down and saw the contract for her borrowing. "Just for this?" she asked. Marion nodded. "Boring!" Debra signed the contract and threw it back to Marion. It was crazy that he found her to sign the contract at the door of the ladies' room. "As your creditor, can I ask you a question?" "Go ahead." "Why spend ten billion on that land?" Marion's voice was low, tempting her to answer his question. "I can't tell you now," Debra said. "What if I insist?" Marion could tell Debra had other plans. But he couldn't figure out what could be worth ten billion there. It was a loss-making business, but Debra's actions made him believe the land would be worth far more than ten billion. "If I told you this land would be worth a lot in six months, would you believe me?" Debra asked. "No." Marion couldn't see any signs of it yet. "What if I said high-end properties around that wasteland are about to come into the market?" Debra asked. "What high-end properties?" Marion frowned. He had never heard of that. "You'll find out soon enough," Debra smiled, walking past Marion into the restroom. Frowning, Marion walked to the lobby, where Randy asked, "Done signing?" "Yeah," Marion said. "Why the long face?" Randy asked. "Is there any high-end property near the wasteland Debra bought?" "There aren't any." "Check who owns the land around that wasteland." "That wasteland is in the sewage area. There's nothing to check. Forget high-end properties. No one would even build a basketball court there," Randy said. "Sewage area?" Marion was surprised. Chapter 8 Moments later, Shelia emerged from the restroom, her face looking grim. She was now dressed in a white gown. "What's wrong?" Juan asked. "I just changed in the restroom and thought I saw Debra." "Debra?" Shelia nodded. "I saw Debra with that man. They seemed intimate." Shelia observed Juan's expression and quickly added, "But I might have been mistaken. How could Debra know someone like Marion? I heard he's a desperado." "Debra..." Juan's tone turned cold. He had noticed Marion's interest in Debra last time. 'Doesn't she know how to avoid danger? Even getting close to someone like Marion.' Juan felt upset. Debra emerged from the restroom and was puzzled about Juan's dissatisfaction. "Where did you go?" Juan whispered. "Me? I went to the restroom." Debra was confused. Shelia stepped forward, pretending to be affectionate, as she grabbed Debra's hand. "Debra, I saw it just now. Marion is not a good person. Don't let him deceive you." Debra instinctively withdrew her hand. Shelia's hand hung in mid-air, and she looked aggrieved. "I didn't tell Mr. Nichols about it on purpose, but Marion is really not a good person." "I know what kind of person Marion is. I don't need others to judge," Debra huffed. "I..." Shelia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Shelia is looking out for you. Don't be oblivious and offend the wrong people," Juan warned. Shelia tugged at Juan's sleeve, as if to imply he was being too harsh. If other people saw it, they might think that Shelia was Juan's wife. "In any case, it's best not to get close to Marion. You're a woman of high standing, while he's a man without upbringing. How could you have any ties with him?" Shelia said. Suddenly, the sound of a cane hitting the ground came. Everyone turned to see an elderly man with gray hair standing in the center of the hall. Debra turned around, feeling a sense of familiarity. Soon, she recognized the old man as the gardener who had been arranging vases in the hall earlier. Now, the old man was dressed in a suit, flanked by two bodyguards. His stern gaze carried a hint of ruthlessness, making people wary. "This is Mr. Caleb Houston," one of the bodyguards introduced. Everyone in the vicinity raised their glasses respectfully to the old man. Only Shelia was pale. The old man she had scolded just now turned out to be Caleb. Shortly after, Marion emerged from behind Caleb and stood by his side, supporting him. Debra suddenly had a bad feeling. Marion looked at Debra and slowly smirked. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invited you all here today to declare that Marion is my grandson, the sole heir of the Houston family." Caleb coldly glanced at Shelia. Shelia felt a chill. "He is not some wild man without upbringing," Caleb said. Everyone in the room was astonished, and Debra's heart was pounding. 'Something is not right. The timeline has changed. How could this happen?' LEARN_MORE https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 thebvhwysgng.com DCO https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/459147366_491130617038887_8900748722173285754_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iq6XGI0IgDsQ7kNvgH7D4Mo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXE_DT5DAYznnR9um16znjq&oh=00_AYC3bHZDcTxAeoUXfKW0GViHWjW_zbr2IIGgKS_e5QPcvQ&oe=673F1835 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:27 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or
” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancĂ©e—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You
do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you
believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one
 except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly. 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Yes 2024-11-16 19:29 active 1824 0 Vuelve conmigo, amor mĂ­o DespuĂ©s de tres años de matrimonio, su marido rara vez volvĂ­a a casa. La Ășnica vez que tenĂ­a intimidad con ella era para complacer a los mayores. El dĂ­a del difĂ­cil parto, su marido aviĂłn privado al extranjero con su amante. ÂĄDesconsolada, decidiĂł divorciarse de Ă©l! ===== Joelle Miller examinĂł minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atenciĂłn cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenĂ­a una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. HabĂ­a descubierto que, en los dĂ­as importantes, Nochebuena, San ValentĂ­n e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se habĂ­a ausentado de todos esos dĂ­as durante los Ășltimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron mĂĄs que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "ÂżLo ven? Él siempre guarda para mĂ­ la parte mĂĄs jugosa de una sandĂ­a". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "ÂĄY miren esta sorpresa! RecogiĂł de la iglesia un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para mĂ­". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la Ășnica cuenta a la que Joelle seguĂ­a. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abriĂł. En la habitaciĂłn poco iluminada apareciĂł Adrian. Gotas de agua caĂ­an de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminaciĂłn, sus atractivos rasgos permanecĂ­an intactos. Joelle cerrĂł instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. HacĂ­a mucho tiempo desde la Ășltima vez que lo vio. Esa noche Ă©l no estaba ahĂ­ por decisiĂłn propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como querĂ­a un bisnieto con desesperaciĂłn, lo obligĂł a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabĂ­an que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirĂĄ si quedas e**arazada o no", declarĂł Adrian con una voz resonante. ÂżQuĂ© querĂ­a decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarrĂł del tobillo y la atrajo hacia Ă©l. Joelle palideciĂł ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensĂł de miedo. "ÂĄAdrian! Basta, no quiero...". EmpezĂł a luchar frenĂ©ticamente. Era una completa humillaciĂłn verse obligada a vivir en esa situaciĂłn con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, asĂ­ que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguĂĄntalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneciĂł a medida que la desesperaciĂłn se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difĂ­cil es mucho mĂĄs interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentĂł con rencor. DespuĂ©s de ducharse, se marchĂł sin mirar atrĂĄs, como si no quisiera quedarse mĂĄs tiempo ahĂ­. Joelle no entendĂ­a quĂ© papel tenĂ­a en su vida. ÂżSolo era un juguete para su placer? ÂżO una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gĂ©lido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropĂł mĂĄs con su manta. No solo temblaba de frĂ­o, sino que sentĂ­a su corazĂłn desgarrado, ahora no conocĂ­a en absoluto al hombre que habĂ­a adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrĂĄs, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebiĂł demasiado. Cuando se despertĂł, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podĂ­a revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomĂł las riendas y organizĂł su matrimonio. Desde entonces, Ă©l estaba convencido de que Joelle lo habĂ­a hecho a propĂłsito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por mĂĄs que creyera que lo habĂ­a d**gado. DespuĂ©s de todo, habĂ­an crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendĂ­a todo. Para Ă©l, ella no era mĂĄs que la nefasta mujer que habĂ­a saboteado su relaciĂłn con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que Ă©l se veĂ­a en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostrarĂ­a esa misma ternura. No pudo contener mĂĄs las lĂĄgrimas y sucumbiĂł a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos tĂ©rminos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantĂł inusualmente temprano. DespuĂ©s de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajĂł las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada domĂ©stica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rĂĄpidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocĂ­a sus preferencias dietĂ©ticas. Joelle se tomĂł su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, Âżpor quĂ© anoche no convenciĂł a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentĂł Leah con simpatĂ­a. HabĂ­a sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que habĂ­a visto cĂłmo los dos se convertĂ­an de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostrĂł incĂłmoda, pero lo ocultĂł con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intentĂ©, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, Ă©l tenĂ­a el corazĂłn en otra parte. MĂĄs concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudĂł y agregĂł con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller estĂĄ muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañía tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrĂĄs, le habĂ­an reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, asĂ­ que entendĂ­a los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatĂ­a hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas debido a la tensiĂłn emocional. SĂ­, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenĂ­a tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia RedenciĂłn en busca de un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompiĂł el silencio. Cuando Leah saliĂł del comedor, Joelle agarrĂł el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesĂł con voz ronca. CapĂ­tulo 2 En declive Joelle habĂ­a tomado una decisiĂłn: querĂ­a el divorcio. No tenĂ­a sentido seguir alargĂĄndolo. Tras un silencio atĂłnito, Katherine soltĂł una estridente carcajada. "ÂżTe quedarĂĄs con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ÂĄOh, por Dios! ÂĄJoelle, te convertirĂĄs en una multimillonaria!". "No, no serĂĄ asĂ­". Joelle habĂ­a firmado un acuerdo cuando se casĂł con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibirĂ­a nada. "Entonces, Âżpor quĂ© te estĂĄs divorciando? ÂĄTienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordĂł la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, asĂ­ como la humillaciĂłn posterior. HabĂ­a sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por Ă©l la ayudarĂ­a a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabĂ­a que habĂ­a sido una completa tonta. ÂżEl sufrimiento hacĂ­a que Adrian la amara mĂĄs? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le harĂ­a sufrir. Joelle se rio de sĂ­ misma y cambiĂł de tema: "Por cierto, Âżrecuerdas el favor que te pedĂ­?". "SĂ­, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violĂ­n, aunque debo decir que serĂĄ un desperdicio de tu talento". "EstĂĄ bien", respondiĂł Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No serĂĄ un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "ÂżCĂłmo que no serĂĄ un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonio
". Katherine se quedĂł en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. DespuĂ©s de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridĂ­culo. HacĂ­a tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibĂ­an tocar en pĂșblico. El primer dĂ­a de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerĂĄ en todo lo que necesites. Tu Ășnico trabajo es tener bebĂ©s y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminĂł su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subiĂł las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violĂ­n abandonado. HabĂ­a sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco despuĂ©s de recibirlo, este sufriĂł un derrame cerebral y cayĂł en coma. Su hermano mayor terminĂł asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, asĂ­ que la dejĂł perseguir su sueño de tocar el violĂ­n. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle moviĂł el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrĂĄs, un accidente le habĂ­a lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no habĂ­a vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentĂ­a en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confiĂł en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltĂł una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchĂł la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "ÂĄSeñor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavĂ­a se preocupaba por Joelle. QuizĂĄs si ella le decĂ­a algo amable, su relaciĂłn podrĂ­a mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venĂ­a a casa durante el dĂ­a. Apenas habĂ­a dejado el violĂ­n cuando se abriĂł la puerta. AhĂ­ estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle habĂ­a aprendido a tocar el violĂ­n cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la habĂ­a elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razĂłn, habĂ­a dejado de tocar. HacĂ­a un momento, la habĂ­a escuchado desde afuera y le pareciĂł una interpretaciĂłn mediocre. ÂżCĂłmo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo mirĂł y bajĂł la cabeza para volver a guardar el violĂ­n en su estuche. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae por aquĂ­?", murmurĂł. "ÂżNecesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondiĂł Ă©l frĂ­amente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el dĂ­a. De no ser por esa obligaciĂłn, Adrian no habrĂ­a regresado. Irene se enfadarĂ­a si no iban juntos. Joelle sonriĂł con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplĂ­a. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podĂ­a encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tĂș tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondiĂł. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezĂł a hervir dentro de Ă©l. Sin decir nada mĂĄs, se dirigiĂł al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque Ă©l no solĂ­a estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenĂ­a la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah tambiĂ©n podĂ­a hacer. Su Ășnica ventaja, tal vez, era ser mĂĄs joven y mĂĄs guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. TenĂ­a el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesĂł el corazĂłn. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declarĂł con una voz tan suave como la brisa. HabĂ­a agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintiĂł extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la mirĂł con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson estĂĄ en declive. Sin mi apoyo, Âżvas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caĂ­da de la familia Watson, Joelle pasĂł de ser amada a quedar en ridĂ­culo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podĂ­an librarse. Incluso sus momentos Ă­ntimos con Adrian la hacĂ­an sentir degradada. Joelle se mordiĂł el labio y se enderezĂł. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mĂ­o". Solo querĂ­a que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habĂ­an dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "ÂżY de dĂłnde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querĂ­as ser independiente, no deberĂ­as haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontrĂł entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. SĂ­, habĂ­a utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, Âżlo que era suyo no era tambiĂ©n de Ă©l? AdemĂĄs, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les habĂ­a dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendĂ­a a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre habĂ­a despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con Ă©l era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejarĂ­a de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ÂżEstaba sugiriendo que ella debĂ­a salir del matrimonio con las manos vacĂ­as? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legĂ­timo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mĂ­o. Pero no te preocupes, no pedirĂ© mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedĂł paralizado y su mirada se agudizĂł. Sus labios formaron una fina lĂ­nea mientras apretaba la mandĂ­bula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se habĂ­a preparado mentalmente, no podĂ­a soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponĂ­a mĂĄs ansiosa. De repente, sonĂł el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacĂł de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "ÂĄAdrian!". CapĂ­tulo 3 Siempre mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto La frustraciĂłn de Adrian crepitaba como estĂĄtica. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "ÂĄNo se trata de eso!", replicĂł Joelle. La habĂ­a malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazĂłn latiendo con urgencia, corriĂł tras Ă©l. "ÂĄAdrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejĂł de subir las escaleras y girĂł la cabeza. El celular en su mano habĂ­a dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, Âżno se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntĂł burlonamente con una mirada gĂ©lida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, Âżpor quĂ© no se lo dices tĂș misma a la abuela? ÂĄNo quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerrĂł de golpe detrĂĄs de Ă©l, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisiĂłn. Joelle se apoyĂł contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizĂł al suelo. Una risa amarga emergiĂł de sus labios. Irene habĂ­a organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se habĂ­a visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabĂ­a muy bien. Si de verdad querĂ­a el divorcio, lo mĂĄs efectivo serĂ­a hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estĂșpida parte de ella se habĂ­a aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo habĂ­a mencionado primero a Ă©l, porque lo veĂ­a como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidĂł un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca habĂ­a querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia habĂ­a sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella habĂ­a intentado pasarla por alto. Sus Ășltimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad querĂ­a el divorcio, deberĂ­a enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparĂł para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenĂ­a un vĂ­nculo muy especial con ella. En parte, habĂ­a aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. QuerĂ­a cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba mĂĄs. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecĂ­a consumirla. Era consciente de que Ă©l no la amaba. ÂĄNunca lo hizo y nunca lo harĂ­a! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonĂł su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "ÂżShawn? ÂżQuĂ© ocurre?". "ÂĄSeñora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca habĂ­a escuchado. Se le helĂł la s**gre y agarrĂł el celular con mĂĄs fuerza mientras permanecĂ­a en la escalera. "ÂżDĂłnde estĂĄ mi hermano? ÂżQuĂ© le pasĂł?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistiĂł a una reuniĂłn de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que b*iera. Supuestamente volverĂ­a a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistiĂł en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedĂł congelada y la furia recorriĂł sus venas. "ÂżErick no sabĂ­a que eso podrĂ­a matarlo?". "ÂĄErick es un s**vergĂŒenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chĂłferes de la familia Miller. ÂĄSeñora Miller, tiene que venir rĂĄpido! El señor Watson estĂĄ siendo operado y los mĂ©dicos han emitido dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂ­tica. ÂĄNo pude aguantar mĂĄs, asĂ­ que la llamĂ©!". El asistente parecĂ­a estar al borde de las lĂĄgrimas. Joelle sabĂ­a que Ă©l no se habrĂ­a puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situaciĂłn fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la habĂ­a protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrĂ­as que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debĂ­a estar en peligro. Joelle sintiĂł como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formĂł en su garganta. Al bajar del Ășltimo escalĂłn, tropezĂł y se cayĂł con fuerza, torciĂ©ndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolviĂł a la realidad y las lĂĄgrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "ÂĄOh, no, señora Miller, tenga mĂĄs cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corriĂł a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarrĂł el brazo de Leah con la visiĂłn borrosa a causa de las lĂĄgrimas. IntentĂł hablar, pero las palabras le salĂ­an entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ÂĄTengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintiĂł su urgencia y respondiĂł sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ÂĄLe pedirĂ© al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos despuĂ©s, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volviĂł hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazĂłn de la criada se ablandĂł. Incluso con el rostro pĂĄlido y surcado de lĂĄgrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ÂĄQuĂ© muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sĂ© quĂ© hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegĂł al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirĂłfano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomĂł. Joelle se acercĂł y lo encontrĂł arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en s**gre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. MĂĄs tarde habrĂ­a tiempo para eso. Cuando la condiciĂłn de Shawn fue mĂĄs estable, Joelle llevĂł al asistente a un lado. "CuĂ©ntamelo todo. ÂżCĂłmo ocurriĂł esto?". El asistente vacilĂł, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenĂł especĂ­ficamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestiĂłn de vida o muerte. ÂżPiensas que todavĂ­a es una opciĂłn no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondiĂł el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea mĂĄs llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn habĂ­a luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrĂ­an desvanecido hacĂ­a mucho tiempo. Su deseo mĂĄs profundo era que su hermana viviera cĂłmodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecĂ­a por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguirĂ­a siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabĂ­a que no podĂ­a cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspirĂł profundamente y preguntĂł: "ÂżNo mencionaron mi relaciĂłn con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas mĂĄs difĂ­ciles a usted". Joelle soltĂł una risa amarga. JamĂĄs habĂ­a estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podĂ­a soportarse a sĂ­ misma. Solo hacĂ­a una hora que le habĂ­a pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligiĂł personalmente. ÂĄMientras sea la señora Miller, mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrĂĄs de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenĂ­a una sonrisa frĂ­a en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frĂĄgil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a Ă©l. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se habĂ­a dado cuenta de que ella realmente no querĂ­a el divorcio. La mujer que habĂ­a parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su tĂ­tulo como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no habĂ­a sido mĂĄs que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacĂ­as. Era tan astuta que lo habĂ­a d**gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tĂĄcticas tan engañosas, ÂżcĂłmo podrĂ­a irse tan fĂĄcilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle serĂ­a una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciĂĄndose de Ă©l. CapĂ­tulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta HacĂ­a mucho que Joelle se habĂ­a vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. ObservĂł sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordĂł los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ÂĄQuĂ© pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeĂł. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, asĂ­ que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozĂł una leve sonrisa. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae al hospital?", preguntĂł mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicaciĂłn de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "TambiĂ©n vine a pedirte perdĂłn, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "ÂżDescuidado?", replicĂł ella. "Tu hermano casi m*ta al mĂ­o, Âży crees que una disculpa bastarĂĄ para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeciĂł y agarrĂł la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondiĂł Ă©l con una voz tan gĂ©lida como el invierno. "No fue a propĂłsito". Luego, se volviĂł hacia Rebecca y agregĂł suavemente: "Vamos, Âżno viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendiĂł todo. HabĂ­a esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, habĂ­a venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, serĂ­a por obligaciĂłn, nada mĂĄs. Pero sabĂ­a que no debĂ­a esperar que Ă©l la defendiera. "ÂĄRebecca, no olvidarĂ© lo que hizo Erick!", espetĂł. Rebecca doblĂł las piernas y se desplomĂł sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapĂł justo a tiempo y la abrazĂł con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenĂ­a malas intenciones. ÂĄTambiĂ©n estĂĄ en el hospital!". "ÂżYa estĂĄ muerto? ÂĄSi no, tendrĂĄ que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solĂ­a arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la Ășnica familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperaciĂłn, y su madre habĂ­a fallecido en un accidente de trĂĄfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habĂ­an sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentĂĄndose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos mĂĄs oscuros, Shawn llevĂł sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasiĂłn por el violĂ­n. Ahora la idea de perderlo tambiĂ©n a Ă©l era insoportable. Su Ășnico deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ÂżcĂłmo puedes decir eso?", sollozĂł Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijĂł su frĂ­a mirada en Joelle. "ÂżQuĂ© deseas?". "Shawn recibiĂł dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂ­tica. ÂżQuĂ© hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeĂł, su frĂĄgil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ÂĄPor favor, ten compasiĂłn!". Se desmayĂł antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantĂł en sus brazos y le dio una Ășltima mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejĂł y la dejĂł clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareciĂł una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, habĂ­a sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtiĂł en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que habĂ­a sido. Ella solĂ­a ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sĂłlo para complacer a su marido. ÂĄQuĂ© patĂ©tico! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ÂżQuĂ© sucederĂĄ en adelante? Los capĂ­tulos disponibles son limitados aquĂ­, haga click el botĂłn abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo mĂĄs contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederĂĄ a este libro) &3& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa Mobo-ReaderFunny Reading https://www.facebook.com/100077707484555/ 39,219 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.manobook.com IMAGE https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1200042107899505&rawadid=120211325121760639 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464384180_469564649472585_7286666045254923030_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wxWRuHlV4fMQ7kNvgHCO7Y6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZWwgoQjzK1-2BHJP-qyH1G&oh=00_AYAQ3uPDKLDuSbDtSfKSjrGbpmvTqWyX73Lx6UBGNNf00A&oe=673F18D0 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Mobo-ReaderFunny Reading 1 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:29 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "Carissa, the king has issued a decree allowing Aurora to marry into our general's house. I hope you can accept and respect this fact." The person who said this is Carissa Sinclair's husband, Barrett Warren. A year ago, on the night of their wedding, Barrett set out to lead his army into battle. Now, after finally returning victorious, he brings Carissa this kind of "good news." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won't be a concubine. She'll be my legal wife and equal to you." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Equal to me, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On the wedding night a year ago, he personally lifted Carissa's veil and promised affectionately: "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didn't understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "She's unlike any woman I've ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! When Barrett left, the general's mansion had already fallen into decline. All the expenses were supported by the dowry Carissa had brought. Barrett's mother, Rebecca, was suffering from a strange illness, and she had invited a reclusive divine doctor to treat her. Each month, dozens of silver coins were spent on exorbitant medical fees, not to mention Carissa's constant care by Rebecca's bedside. In the end, she got such a reward. So, the kindness that this family shows is merely because they are relying on Carissa's dowry. If Barrett's betrayal was like a sharp sword, then Rebecca's hypocrisy was like thousands of silver needles, piercing deeply into Carissa's heart. Carissa pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, she's different from any woman you know. She's a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldn't want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That's them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. She's straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you won't like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "It's fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I'll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" "Never mind. I don't want to argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing,"said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. As Carissa watched him leave in a huff, she felt even more bitter. "My lady, my lord was too much!" said Lulu, Carissa's maid, wiping her tears away. "Don't call him that!" Carissa gave her a stern look. "We never consummated the marriage. He's not your lord. Go fetch my dowry list." "Why the dowry list?" Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. "Silly girl, why would we stay in this house any longer?" Lulu held her forehead and gasped. "But your mother arranged this marriage, and your father wanted you to marry and have children." Tears finally welled up in Carissa's eyes at the mention of her parents. Carissa actually came from a family of warriors, and she had been training in martial arts since she was young, showing great talent. However, when she was 15, her father and several brothers died on the battlefield. Since then, her usually open-minded mother advised Carissa to hide her skills and, like other noble girls, find a husband to live a stable life. But now it seems she has betrayed her mother's expectations. Lulu brought over the dowry list and explained, "This year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins to support the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." Carissa glanced at the list, narrowed her eyes, and sneered, "No wonder they covet my dowry so much." The dowry her mother provided was quite substantial; she hadn't paid much attention to it before. Now she realized how much effort her mother had put in for her. "Then, my lady, what shall we do now?" Carissa's eyes grew cold. "I could confront the king and use my family's achievements to force him to reverse his edict. If he refuses, I'll kill myself in protest." Lulu was terrified and immediately protested, "My lady, you can't!" Carissa's expression softened, and a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you think I'm that foolish? If I manage to reach the king, I'll only request an edict for an amicable divorce." Barrett was able to marry Aurora because of a royal edict. So, Carissa should also be issued an official edict to leave. She shouldn't have to sneak away like she was being cast out. In addition, the law states that if a woman is divorced, her husband has the right to keep all her dowry. Right now, Barrett doesn't dare to divorce her, mindful of his reputation, but who knows what will happen in the future? Carissa no longer wanted to believe in this hypocritical man, nor did she want to live under the same roof with him. She once hoped to build a life with Barrett, so naturally she would not be stingy with her dowry. However, circumstances had changed. She intended to leave the general's residence with dignity and take every last coin of her dowry back home! LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464183718_1608087840126342_8310047084193887164_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-aYj8SehlNoQ7kNvgHXdy2n&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ApKUbL4p_WS-6H1xqBVE7rv&oh=00_AYBJQGBcYhx9W6oObOpTs3GcP_RUzRrqtMRwvhEPVIqscw&oe=673F0CDB PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:29 active 1824 0 Una esposa para mi hermano Una antigua regla familiar prohĂ­be a Harry casarse con su novia embarazada. En verdad esos dos estaban muy enamorados. Era una pena que tuvieran que llegar a idear un plan tan descabellado para poder seguir juntos. La propuesta con la que habĂ­an llegado era simple: para que Harry y Laura pudieran casarse, Daniel que habĂ­a enviudado 5 años atrĂĄs tenĂ­a que volver a contraer matrimonio. En verdad su hermano lo estaba poniendo en un aprieto. Su esposa habĂ­a fallecido de una afecciĂłn cardiaca poco despuĂ©s de dar a luz a su pequeño hijo. Lo dejĂł solo con 3 niños y una profunda tristeza en una casa que de pronto se volviĂł muy grande; creando, con el correr de los años, una coraza frĂ­a a su alrededor. Deanna era la mejor amiga de Harry y la Ășnica opciĂłn que les quedaba. Deanna tiene una vida normal, trabaja medio tiempo y estudia en la Universidad de Artes porque quiere lograr su sueño: cantar en la Ăłpera. Solo le falta un año para terminar su carrera cuando su amigo Harry le pide ayuda desesperado. Deanna estaba mĂĄs que dispuesta a hacer esto por ellos, Laura se convertirĂĄ en madre y se casarĂĄ con el hombre que ama. Para ayudarlo con su problema Daniel y Deanna acceden a fingir una relaciĂłn y un matrimonio. A veces el amor aparece de la manera mĂĄs inesperada y en la forma de la persona menos pensada. Son tan opuestos que la atracciĂłn es inevitable. Él encuentra en ella la calidez que faltaba en su vida y Deanna el amor luego de una ruptura desastrosa. Finalmente, Daniel puede volver a tener una familia. Pero hay muchos intereses ocultos que buscan separarlos y alejarlos. El viaje es difĂ­cil, deben enfrentarse no solo a terceros que les complicaran las cosas, sino tambiĂ©n a sus propios miedos e inseguridades. No es sencillo equilibrar 15 años de diferencia... &6& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.manobook.com/13316375-fb_contact-spy Best Love Novel 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.manobook.com IMAGE https://fbweb.manobook.com/13316375-fb_contact-spy4685_2-1022-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=200518&accid=428030350227844&rawadid=120214389757990581 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465574026_528047110144575_3220201390581862014_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PVlN-8UWYfgQ7kNvgFzr0dJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZWwgoQjzK1-2BHJP-qyH1G&oh=00_AYCyt63s2Lh9RTUL0P0rlLSB19sQ1SM-M3HF6TZm1afbhQ&oe=673F3067 REGULAR_PAGE 0 0 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:28 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father told us that our debts had all been repaid. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. As far as my parents knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as his toy. But what other choice did I have? I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. I had no idea when Joseph would return. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take. LEARN_MORE https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 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=15053&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/t39.35426-6/464446123_872410864981319_4606585567578669790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=T0LKT-sKEWkQ7kNvgGowBg7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AfAh0CLYEiyOIBnN8DAhdCZ&oh=00_AYAS8QV5AHz71aKiKrG3Jqwg1-WwbB8H8At-62sRms3s-A&oe=673F23D3 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:27 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 shgjfh.com DCO https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463384564_1258191665321352_3920804691950976922_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9-2lDPs_Fa0Q7kNvgHupb-L&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUsl529M7t9W5iza9OxzMQ8&oh=00_AYC9ICcbAAQ49ifcbj-rTLXih3k-Hc080bo438CvFnxzZA&oe=673F2495 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:32 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ Neah "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please
." I beg. "He was an Alpha
I
 I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" LEARN_MORE https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& New world publications https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ 3,759 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 wwwedb.com DCO https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461090096_508384742093424_2255968583705133521_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YE9h4WK5-vEQ7kNvgEWbCsc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6ce-wPaCrypr7GE8uiS7u6&oh=00_AYBupMCzHAWKts2i2G5D6F1uHa1s2fX4WQfptvFGvQuwsQ&oe=673F277C PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 New world publications 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:29 active 1824 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ аĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тД ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы заĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚Đșазал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșа ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, а Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ за ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ за ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО за ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡Đșа. ЧуĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČаĐș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, а?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу за Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČа 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșазал ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё за руĐșу Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčтД ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČал запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČал Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, а Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșазал Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč за ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșаĐș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был за Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ВыпДĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșа. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ заĐčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșа сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČа 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČёл Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșа была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČЎаĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ заĐșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČёл ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșа. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČал ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČал Дё. ГлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčтД ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČа ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось за сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČызĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșазал глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșаĐș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ўа? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” захĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- Lime novel https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ 843 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.litradnovie.com IMAGE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213512816190790 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466779056_927608022623113_1057338957693046843_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=INjy_MX1jBUQ7kNvgFp-i1h&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Awxd7ploFOvLP_0NTTC-CWy&oh=00_AYAP-05tnUcY-7JtOl_ELB8ULoBMLx-4GVwm5itkrhe71Q&oe=673F0C24 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Lime novel 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:33 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "You bloomed beautifully, Kamilla. You are a delicious prize that I could easily seize," he rasps as he grips her waist. An action she hadn't missed its implication. But she did nothing but enjoy the delicious torture it caused her body and mind. "However, a forbidden one" he heaved a sigh while gritting his teeth. For a long time, their gazes locked as he tried to control his raging emotions. She could clearly see him struggling with it. "Your father is more than just an employee for me. He is a friend." after he was calmer, he spoke again. "You grew up a little, but you are still tiny," he shrugged. "I am turning twenty-three soon." "I know. But you're still too young" he muttered while he bore her with his dark gaze. The kind of gaze that makes her body tingle. "Too young for your kind of game?" She astounds herself with her boldness. "What do you know about my game?" It was a perilous challenge and a dire warning she should heed. However, she chose not to. She met his piercing eyes with her head held high, despite the thundering heartbeat. "The kind of game that involves this hard monster poking my stomach, Mr. Petrov. I may be tiny in your eyes, but I am not ignorant of a man's needs. "Nor am I innocent," she responded without hesitation. If she is aiming to provoke him, the way his eyes narrowed and his breath became heavy indicates that she is succeeding. If a dark look could take life, she would drop to the floor, lifeless. However, his rage did not deter her. "Such a feisty girl" he cupped her rump and pressed her tight against his hardness. He moved even closer to close the gap between them. She gasped and quickly closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was to come. But he came to a sudden halt, only an inch from their faces. His hot breath fanned her flushed face as they breathe each other's breaths. "Don't dare tempt me, Kamilla. I might forget you’re my friend's daughter. You're too young for my taste" teasing her, he brush his nose against her cheek. It was meant to be a warning, but she took it as an affront—one that ignited the wild spirit within her. "And if I dare?" she challenged, pushing aside her racing heartbeat. LEARN_MORE https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 nvwibcnshop.com DCO https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14499&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461415597_1260067862022397_8120933530998203639_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lnnwhoMOXKwQ7kNvgEfeN7V&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZfOGTmN7_GOB9I8_uc-cxC&oh=00_AYAJ9UiMBV-6b10DR5IXmJ8FoWXWhGwlVhCqrwyBh7to0A&oe=673F190D PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:31 active 1824 0 â€ïžđŸ˜ click to read on 👉 I watch as my ex-husband Rowan, who's standing next to me, stares at the love of his life, my sister Emma. It is still at my father's funeral, yet he can't hold back his feelings anymore. We were married but instead of two, there were three of us in our marriage. Him, me and the love of his life, Emma, the woman he’s refused to let go for nine long years of our marriage. It’s honestly sad. The life I have. Living under the perfect shadow that was Emma nailed in the fact that I can never be good enough for anyone. She was my parents' favorite daughter, my husband's love of life. She always comes first in everyone’s mind while I’m left chasing after leftovers of their affection. I used to harbor a glimmer of hope for my marriage with Rowan, but this also ended when we got divorced three days ago. “Ava, you okay?” Rowan's deep voice always makes me shiver. It’s then I realize that the service was over and everyone was leaving. Shrugging my shoulders I stand up, without looking at him. I know it seems rude but I just can’t look at him. Not when the memory of him staring lovingly at Emma is still fresh in my mind. “So we finally meet again” Emma’s bitter voice says behind me. After what happened nine years ago, Rowan and I soon got married, and Emma vanished without a trace since then. Until now, she showed up again at father's funeral. I turn around to face her. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were red and puffy, but she still looked like a freaking goddess. I sigh. I so didn’t want to face her right now. “Not now Emma. Can we just bury father first?” She smiles then leans in so that I’m the only one that can hear her. “We will bury him alright but let me tell you that I am here to stay. You also took my family from me all those years ago but no more. I plan to take everything back, including the man that was meant to be mine” she then steps aside and leaves just as the preacher calls us to go to back where the cemetery is. I’m left shocked at her words but not really surprised. What she doesn’t understand is that she doesn’t have to take anything back because none of them were mine to begin with. The family she’s talking about worships the ground she walks one. And Rowan? Rowan was and still is her man. Pushing down the pain that wanted to drown me, I walked to the place that would be father’s final resting place. I stand a little distance from mother, Emma and my brother Travis. They’re huddled together. Looking at them and me you would think that I was a stranger just attending the burial instead of part of them. “Dust to dust
” the preacher says as they lower father’s body to the ground. They then begin to cover his coffin with soil until he is completely buried. Mother’s wails are the loudest as she begs for father to come back to her. Emma and Travis both have silent tears running down their faces as they hold her in their arms. I wipe my tears away. Since no one cares, I need to be strong for myself. Once again people flood us to offer their condolences. I accept them mindlessly. It was like I was there but wasn’t at the same time. By the time I come out of it, most people were already dispersed. And there stood Rowan and his parents. I stand awkwardly and don't know if I should greet them. When his parents noticed me, they said something to Rowan and left. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was used to them treating me like that because we both know that I wasn’t their choice for their son. Once they leave, we are left standing awkwardly beside each other. Now that his focus wasn’t occupied by his parents, it was solely on Emma who was standing a few feet from us. I was about to excuse myself when I hear a screeching of tires. Everything happened so fast. Men with guns opened fire. The minute they started shooting I saw Rowan dive for Emma. I stood shocked as I watched him protect her with his body. I can’t believe he abandoned me to protect her. Why was I even surprised? This just proved that I’ll never be his priority. Seeing him protect her with his life completely broke something inside me. “Watch out!” A man with a bullet proof jacket shouted at me. He pushed me out of the way, but it was already too late. Something pierced my skin and I fell from the impact of the hit. LEARN_MORE https://weihunda.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=8403& Happyday https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ 1,403 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 weihunda.com DCO More Free Chapters👉 https://weihunda.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=8403&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/t39.35426-6/464223113_1061388625229189_3877713246494818293_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=og-w3kz7EusQ7kNvgGiBPMS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ArO7hHK3JVODUdSTPU503rp&oh=00_AYDaQUQo-q53xAdKi2u0yzVXUrVVrcQKS2osyVELFi-1HQ&oe=673F103B PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Happyday 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:29 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yates’s husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, “Em, how about having a child with me?” Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasn’t until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. “A child?” she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justin’s 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. “Are you proposing to me?” she asked. “Yes.” “Can I finally have your child now?” Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone else’s answer. “I’ll give you plenty,” she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasn’t exactly romantic or formal, but she didn’t 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 didn’t 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 Justin’s 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 didn’t 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. “Don’t touch my things,” 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. Wasn’t 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. “We’re going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldn’t mind going another round.” 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. “Justin, what’s wrong?” 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 Justin’s waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. “Justin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didn’t you?” 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. “Emma? Is that really you?” Justin’s 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 woman’s tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. “Yes, it’s me,” 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 Justin’s 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 couldn’t 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. Justin’s 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. “Emma Xander? Hasn’t she... disappeared for the past four years?” 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, Justin’s voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. “How is she doing?” “She’s malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.” 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. “Hi, Miss Yates.” Emily nodded in acknowledgment. “Dr. White, what’s her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?” she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justin’s long-lost first love. This was his friend’s 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. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?” Justin’s 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. “You proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now you’re holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And you’re not even coming home? Staying out all night?” “Stop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,” he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Seeing Justin’s 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. “It’s late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,” Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zac’s offer. She wasn’t leaving without answers. “You think I’m being unreasonable? I’m 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? “I’ll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, you’re coming home with me.” Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justin’s arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justin’s 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 couldn’t be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldn’t even let her near him? “What do you mean by this?” Emily’s voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didn’t 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. “Don’t be childish.” 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? “If you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!” Emily’s heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasn’t the right moment to bring this up, but she couldn’t 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. “If you don’t want to get married, we can call it off. This isn’t the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.” He didn’t 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. “Miss Yates, please don’t make this difficult for me. It’s time for you to go home.” Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. “Miss Yates, it’s late. Maybe it’s best to talk things over with Justin another time.” 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 wouldn’t 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. “I’ll walk you to the car,” Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. “I’m fine. I can get back on my own.” 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. “She left?” he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didn’t want her disturbing Emma’s rest. “Yes, she’s gone,” Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didn’t bother asking how Emily had left. “I’m stepping out for a break,” he said. Chapter 3 “So, Emma Xander’s back. What are you going to do?” Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justin’s 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. “She was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.” He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadn’t been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. “The role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.” 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 couldn’t 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 Zac’s eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasn’t hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didn’t care about things like V-card or a woman’s past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justin’s 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 hadn’t fully taken over the company and wasn’t 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 grandfather’s 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. “Emily’s been with you for three years,” Zac said, trying to speak up for her. “She’s an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isn’t it a bit cruel to treat her like this?” “Then I’ll keep her around,” Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. “But marriage? That’s not going to happen.” His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didn’t matter at all. He didn’t 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 didn’t leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadn’t 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 “Em.” Whenever he whispered “Em” 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 woman’s name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justin’s 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 couldn’t accept that she had been someone else’s 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 weren’t married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emma’s sudden appearance. “Miss Yates, where are you?” the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. “I’m here.” Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. “Is it just you? Where’s Mr. Yates?” he asked. “He’s not coming back.” 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, “Emily didn’t leave?” So, she had heard everything they had said. Justin’s tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. “Good. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.” 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. “You’re back! It must’ve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.” Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. “Yes.” “Where’s Mr. Yates?” Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. “He won’t be back tonight.” Emily’s 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 Emily’s suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmer’s 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 Justin’s arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didn’t 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 didn’t care and hadn’t 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 villa’s 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 Justin’s “contract lover.” 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 wouldn’t 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. “How was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?” Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. “I’m already back.” “Already? That was quick.” “I thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didn’t last long? Not up to it?” “Not just ‘not up to it’. He can’t even get started.” 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 wasn’t too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. “Perfect timing then. I’m heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Let’s hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.” “Sounds good. I’ll see you at the mall.” Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didn’t 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. “Mrs. Zimmer, I’m meeting a friend to go shopping. I’ll have lunch out,” Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?” Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeper’s cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadn’t seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. “Not sure yet. I’ll text you later if I’ll be back in time.” “Understood.” As Emily opened the door, she found Justin’s assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. “Hi, Sam,” she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. “Hi, 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?” Sam’s tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didn’t move. “Mrs. Zimmer, Justin’s going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?” “Miss Yates, this
?” Sam’s face showed confusion. “What? Before I came along, didn’t Justin have someone to handle his luggage?” Her expression was calm, her tone light. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Miss Yates,” 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 Justin’s 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 hadn’t picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldn’t 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 it’s all packed? Should we check to make sure nothing’s missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, “Isn’t the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, he’ll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.” 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? “Of course, Miss Yates. I’ll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,” 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, Justin’s bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. “How much longer until Emily’s contract is up?” Justin’s 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. “Less than four months, Mr. Yates.” “Draft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,” Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasn’t an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldn’t touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, “Include a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.” Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. “Understood, Mr. Yates.” 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 wasn’t 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. “Babe, switching things up?” Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emily’s curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. “Yep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?” She turned to give Helen a look. “A shawl, definitely. It’ll highlight your figure beautifully,” Helen replied with her usual style advice. “That’s what I thought too.” Helen eyed the dress. “That dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesn’t Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?” Helen couldn’t help but mentally criticize Justin’s 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. “His taste doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not something I’m concerned about,” 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 didn’t 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 Justin’s stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. “That despicable man!” Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. “Keep it down.” Emily quickly covered Helen’s mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. “Justin might look put-together, but he’s not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? “Why didn’t he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. “Good 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!” 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. “The contract’s up in four months. I’m planning to buy a place.” “What for? Just stay with me. I’ve got a room for you.” “My address is still tied to Justin’s place. Since I’ve decided to leave, I need a clean break. I’ll need my own place to change everything over,” Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night she’d learned the truth in the hospital garden. “Then you can cancel your lease and move in with me! We’ll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. “Alright, I’ll move in with you. I’ll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. I’ll check if the landlord’s interested in selling, though it’s a resale property.” “I don’t care if it’s new or used. As long as it’s clean and ready to go, I’m good.” Emily didn’t 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 hadn’t bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The women’s 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 men’s side, packed with Justin’s clothes. Emily didn’t 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. “Hello, is this Miss Yates?” “Yes, this is.” “I’m a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?” 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. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning.” “Very well. Have a nice day.” The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. “Plan to have a baby?” “That’s 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.” The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emily’s 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. “Miss Yates, I’ll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.” Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. “Thanks, doctor, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll get them on my own.” The doctor wasn’t surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasn’t 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 didn’t want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didn’t know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospital’s garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emma’s wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. “Justin, you’re busy with work. You don’t have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,” Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. “Focus on getting better. Don’t worry about anything else.” Justin felt a deep guilt about Emma’s 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 hadn’t expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadn’t 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/ 321 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/t39.35426-6/464601896_901814508153856_1029011708717057110_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9WNZY9ytIugQ7kNvgE1cFY8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AmPOHKLcMeKaJstxIkWu9HB&oh=00_AYASsDgxLUSyrH7u82vwiH6gm-lzB8Vu5cZP2n0UxOUcTA&oe=673F12DB PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-16 19:31 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring her along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' " Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." a maid’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. Shelia liked white dresses. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to dress like that for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," the maid said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." The maid sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." LEARN_MORE https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 thebvhwysgng.com DCO https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461289218_1238442967359041_237777891081435790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Rs0nshpf5rQQ7kNvgH-6H0u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ArO7hHK3JVODUdSTPU503rp&oh=00_AYDnKU1aU-C8cIYm9CtLYVa6VjfmjO795LQt4mndGMLkpg&oe=673F060E PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:30 active 1824 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ******* Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ******* "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth. LEARN_MORE https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u Indulge in story https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ 841 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=13363&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/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=C21hCq4uXoQQ7kNvgHAmyVL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AYjiNYz3jtOgLqQABlaBhu-&oh=00_AYAqZ5AyekKUshlvvZM-lowOjOhI6kck4zmhMD7rW0btHQ&oe=673F05AF PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Indulge in story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:29 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ Neil Somner entrusts his granddaughter, Freya Somner, to an old patient he saved back in the day. The patient promises that he'll have his grandson marry Freya. The man disappears right after he and Freya register their marriage. When they meet again two years later, he's an army captain, and she's a brave, calm doctor in the emergency room. To keep Freya out of danger, Daniel Talbot uses his influence and clout to transfer her out of the emergency room. Unbeknownst to him, his rival in love is waiting for Freya in the new department. It's one of Daniel's rare moments of failure. One day, Daniel asks Freya, "What do you think of me?" She looks at him. "I'm not going to comment on that. I don't know you." He stands in her way, refusing to let her go. "You can get to know me now." LEARN_MORE https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 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=15224&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/t39.35426-6/465363118_1068771147804090_8770423159999719943_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NQSVacOmgboQ7kNvgEXkpJ1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ApKUbL4p_WS-6H1xqBVE7rv&oh=00_AYAvNp8hSkkt5oRhPDGoqb-ooJgUhev0C0snUbjM_Xrv1g&oe=673F2994 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-16 19:27 active 1824 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or
” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancĂ©e—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You
do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you
believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one
 except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly. 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