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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carissa's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted for me?' Soon, Carissa lifted her gaze, determination tightening her grip on the dowry list, âLulu, make preparations. Weâre going to see His Majesty tomorrow.â Luluâs brow furrowed, as if knowing Carissa's purpose, âBut, my lady, I donât think His Majesty will revoke his edictââ Carissa shook her head, âNo, Lulu, Iâm not asking him to change the edict, but to request a new oneâan amicable divorce from Barrett.â Luluâs eyes widened that instant, âA divorce! My lady, you want a divorce?â Carissa nodded firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barrett 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/t39.35426-6/464975882_1204712524149205_7926569809786181278_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jMWLnZ_D020Q7kNvgHlny0-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYDK_2XKnA60wM1WZwvUGLbUkGWICwpNxXEcfnu7RBr7yA&oe=6745A243 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulderâeach step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objectsâit extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However⊠"If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⊠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's sharesâthe ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew upâher mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. ⊠Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a messâresignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very homeâLydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughtsâthey're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that shipâthe crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagleâa woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual selfâunresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickeredâa brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptionalâtangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebookâher secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. ⊠At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, butâŠ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guessâit was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=a1e61cqcwaEQ7kNvgEsFnvG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUgm1eHH88bIH1GPnxL_uvb&oh=00_AYAANoh7dUIvcCbVJHDyvLhH7hz6JGMh7Zd6f2ZcTg-Y6w&oe=6745955F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read more FREE chaptersđ | Itâs not the first time I received photos of my husband, Owen, cheating on me. After losing my parents, I was adopted by Owenâs family. I grew up with him. We were inexplicably attracted to each other but we dared not to admit it. Until that one crazy night... anyway we got married when we were both 22. Now, itâs been three years. But Owen had been acting very strange recently. These photos seemed to explain why... I had to confront him. âOwen?â I called out. âOwen, where are you?â He didn't answer. Owen was on the phone with his friend. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: âNo, I donât think I love her anymore.â Owenâs words gave me icy chills. âHow could he say that?!â My heart was broken. Owen left without any explanation that night. When Owen came back he was very drunk. He started kissing me and called me Josie. I couldnât believe what I heard⊠âJosieâŠ? Were you with Josie?â I asked with panic in my voice. I couldnât believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. Life passed, I became more and more painful. I finally got divorced with Owen. I thought there would be no relationship between us. But the appearance of Raymond gave me fresh hope for love. Raymond was Owenâs uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, handsome and rich. He was one of the most attractive men I knew. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back 10 years ago to take over his familyâs business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. I couldnât believe such a wonderful man would confess to me. I didnât know why he would fall in love with such an ordinary woman like me? Heâs always there when I was in danger and even got injured when protecting me. But I can not accept him as his relationship with my ex-husband. Then the unexpected thing happened. My best friend set me up. When I woke up, I found myself under Raymond's sheet. âDonât be scared, Noah.â âIâll protect you.â âIâm willing to take responsibility.â âNoah, I love you.â His magnetic voice always lingered in my ears. Could I trust him? What will happen if I get involved in this forbidden relationship? | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&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/t39.35426-6/463600279_1053409966435668_5063960042783931742_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GXa9N3yKXwoQ7kNvgEbX4fT&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYBslEQ2PqvKGoGk7xP9WRF82YNiYKnP8X963HpVKJlk5Q&oe=6745B81E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | âWhere the f-k is she?â I hear the Beta scream. Oh no, my ex-mate Beta Kyle is looking for me and trying to torture me again. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. It hurts more than usual but still, I don't make sound. Years of experience has taught me to do so. âAlpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office like you were askedd.â Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. âWe are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!â I donât answer and keep my eyes low. I know it's a trick, to try and get me to say something so that he can give himself a reason to punish me. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didnât mess around and he had the largest pack. âHe is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!â Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin and turns me around, kicking me in the back as he shoves me towards the office. âUseless f-king Wolf.â He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against the door, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought I could finally escape when I turned eighteen, 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 drink. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that donât quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. âIs this the way you greet all Alphaâs?â His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. âIâm sorry.â I whisper, getting to my feet. âIâŠI thought I was alone.â I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. âCome forward.â He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I do as Iâm told, allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. âYou smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?â I nod, though I couldnât tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. âI would prefer it if you spoke to me.â He growls, âIâm not in the mood to play games.â âYes.â I whisper. I couldnât help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasnât sure how much more my body could take. âHow is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.â âIâŠ..â I hated the question. âSpit it out, I havenât got all day!â He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldnât scent him. I knew why I hadnât been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever wanted or liked to do. They never let me tell my side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. âYou should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?â 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. âMy Wolf abilities were bound,â I mutter. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, âWhy would someone do that?â 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. âIt was a punishment.â I whisper. It wasnât far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. Thereâs 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 couldnât tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me âNeah, what the heck are you doing in my office?â He turns to the crimson eyed man. âI am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.â Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. âI wouldnât do that if I were you.â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscle too. âNeah,â My name rolls off of his tongue, âwas kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested.â 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. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. âGo and get Beta Kyle.â Alpha Trey seethes. âTell him that our guest is here.â I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. âBeta Kyle,â I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. âAlpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.â He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. âYouâre lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.â 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 doesnât 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 doesnât 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. âNeah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.â 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. âNeah is your sister, correct?â Alpha Dane questions my brother. âShe is.â Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. âWhy do you treat her like shit?â Straight to the point, my brother wouldnât 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 didnât know what to do. I couldnât 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. âNeah was responsible for our parents' death.â Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. âResponsible how?â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. âShe served them Wolfsbane.â Donât make a sound. Donât 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. Slowly, his hand latches onto my throat but he doesnât squeeze. âYou poisoned your parents?â âI was six.â I splutter. âI just made them lemonade.â 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. âHardly seems fair to blame a six year old.â âA six year old should know the difference between plants.â Alpha Trey snaps âSounds to me like she was set up.â Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of my throat. âYou werenât there, Alpha Dane.â My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. âI didnât ask you here to talk about my slave!â Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alphaâs he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alphaâs, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. âYouâre right and now I have a few things to mull over.â âI thought we agreed.â My brother exclaims. âNothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out.â The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. âWhat the f-k did you say to him?â My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. âN..nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny.â âDid you tell him?â 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. âWELL?â My brother yells when I donât immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. âBut I didnât say it was you.â 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. âIf you have ruined this, you wonât see daylight again.â He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. âPleaseâŠ.â I beg. âHe was an AlphaâŠI⊠I had to answer him.â 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. âAlpha Dane, I thought you had left.â Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. âI 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?â âAs I said,â my brother holds his ground, âShe is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves.â âYou should keep your nose out of other packs' business!â Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. âIf 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?â âWe donâtâŠ.â âReally?â He cocks a brow, âYou really expect me to believe that you would have just let her sleep? I have already stopped you from hitting her once. " My brother and Beta Kyle fell silent. I peer through slits to see his crimson eyes on me. 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. âI have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey.â Alpha Dane is smirking at my brother. âWe have already agreed on terms.â âWell, Iâm adding one. And if you donât agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you donât want that.â âI take it that your new terms have something to do with her?â Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. âYou would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal.â 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? âDeal.â Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesnât take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. âI will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow.â He reaches a hand out and cups my face, âEnsure you have everything packed.â 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. âIf 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.â He struts out, slamming the door behind him. Seeing Alpha Dane walking out of the door, my brother immediately grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to lead a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the cruellest man in the world, he has killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what will happen to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,761 | 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}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464300486_441900775589412_3913007690285088857_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gC8AtV2UmkYQ7kNvgGWSTLM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYBb_acsjG3zJ104GagdxSMbNdugQSZmVYxO33SWfgxNMg&oe=6745C667 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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He drunkenly hugged her âCall me husband again ......â | đNyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? OrâŠ' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didnât know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so letâs not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." ⊠It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clockâ3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nylaâs phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwinedâtheir heavy breathing filling the roomâpierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. ⊠By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine hereâ" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clarkâs journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clarkâs name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nylaâs red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once youâre calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clarkâs betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nylaâs reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." ⊠After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damonâs hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Letâ Mmph! Let me goâŠ" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nylaâs senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didnât feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me goâŠ" Nylaâs voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldnât believe itâthe man who almost violated her was Clarkâs uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle DamonâŠ" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistakeâit wasnât Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husbandâs uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephewâs wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. ⊠When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didnât you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didnât love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, Iâm sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Donât touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, Iâve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But Iâve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why canât you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, youâre the only one I love⊠It was just an accident with herâŠ" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So youâre saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, Iâll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clarkâs expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, Iâve made up my mind. Iâm divorcing you. You donât deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. ⊠Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damonâs hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didnât notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Donât touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didnât you always want a child? Letâs have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it wonât be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didnât care. "It doesnât matter how many times I say it. Iâm disgusted by you. Iâd rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nylaâs struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. ⊠For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. ⊠The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clarkâs expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clarkâs arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true selfâselfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next monthâ" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Letâs go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasnât on his side todayâthey met at the door. He didnât notice Nylaâs stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nylaâs gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I donât like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I donât like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. Weâll deal with this later." "If you donât want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didnât want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the companyâs shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, youâre here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you donât bring a girlfriend next time, donât bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damonâs gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasnât the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe Iâll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "Youâre too picky! Iâve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, donât ruin it." "Then youâll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, âYouâre going to drive me crazy!â Damon glanced at Clark. âClark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why donât you encourage him to have kids?â Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldnât listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. âNyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?â Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clarkâs aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, youâll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldnât dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldnât happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldnât pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, weâll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight yearsâthe best years of her life, from 18 to 26âloving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar | LEARN_MORE | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692& | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 842 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | findedc.com | DCO | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9CsyEO8yX-MQ7kNvgEoI6VG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYDTbTabNRdXAiFFpmGyzXnIpCvXpH4HqJmyfluWx7bd7w&oe=6745A43D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 |
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | As the daughter of Alpha, I have been abused by my brother Alpha Trey and the pack, all because of an unforgivable mistake I made at 6. Ouch! Beta Kyle rudely kicks me to the floor in front of the office door and yells, âUseless Stupid Wolf! Clean the office asap! Our guest, Alpha Dane will be arriving soon!â Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didnât mess around and he had the largest pack. âHe is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!â Beta Kyle continues. He digs his nails into my thinning skin before he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned 18, I could finally escape, but 4 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. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. âUhheemâ 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 donât quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. âIs this the way you greet all Alphaâs?â His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. âIâm sorry.â I whisper, getting to my feet. âIâŠI thought I was alone.â I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. âCome forward.â He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I step around the corner, doing as Iâm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. âYou smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?â I nod, though I couldnât tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. âI would prefer it if you spoke to me.â He growls, âIâm not in the mood to play games.â âYes.â I whisper. I couldnât help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? âWhy do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.â âIâŠâ I hated the question. âSpit it out, I havenât got all day!â His deep voice sends a shiver through me, âYou should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Itâs rude to not look at them.â Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. âMy Wolf abilities were bound,â I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasnât interested in that part. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, âWhy would someone do that?â 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. âIt was a punishment.â I whisper. It wasnât far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. Thereâs 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 couldnât tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me âNeah, what the fuck are you doing in my office?â He turns to the crimson eyed man. âI am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.â Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. âI wouldnât do that if I were you.â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. âNeah,â My name rolls off of his tongue, âwas kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.â 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. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. âGet out now!â Alpha Trey seethes. I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. I try to keep myself busy to stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace is short-lived when I hear my brother calling out for champagne and some glasses. Quickly finding what he asked for, I bow my head 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 has ever watched me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should haveâŠ. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. âNeah is your sister, correct?â Alpha Dane questions my brother. âShe is.â Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. âWhy do you treat her like shit?â Straight to the point, my brother wouldnât like that. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didnât know what to do. I couldnât 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. âShe's an unforgiven murderer.â Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. âMurdered who?â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. âOur parents.â | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,761 | 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}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463716564_849071077033660_7419585111381032995_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5voDGHAmT6oQ7kNvgGBqtmp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYCzkecoPWXpjPyRp_9ll2-_1nWIJqSkue6AqgnnGriKtQ&oe=6745B334 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 |
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she died from postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophieâs voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462304210_840096088240723_1509725369341521002_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2yABVRbfQpQQ7kNvgGfrWWj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYB4n4czCyPBn6CLlEBIk1L8RDYJmX6Y2LLe8KJ2tqFqZw&oe=6745A389 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462959477_529946159740369_7207555316465874238_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-0901qeIFAUQ7kNvgEb9CwU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYBn0OR3G44OHwVqw8jWc8oBMSKamnCIAu2H9VkUueMx9Q&oe=67459B36 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | It had been three years of marriage. Justine Thorpe finally found her husband, Ash Vanderbilt, in the OB-GYN clinic of a hospital. He hadn't shown up for three months. However, he was not alone. Another womanâhis mistressâwas with him. She bore more than a passing resemblance to Justine. Her name was Jenny Thorpe, and she had been living as Justine's replacement in the Thorpe family for 16 years. Justine had suspected her husband of having an affair for at least six months, but she never imagined it would be with Jenny. Not that the revelation was entirely surprising, now that she thought about it. Everyone in Sol's upper class knew that Ash's true love had always been his childhood friend. Justine was the devil who had gotten in the way. Seeing Ash and Jenny together somehow relieved Justine. The mystery was finally solved. She watched them enter the elevator. Ash's delicate eyelashes were lowered as he spoke softly to his companion. Justine had never seen him this gentle before. Jenny was grazing her slightly protruding belly, nodding bashfully. Justine and Jenny closely resembled each other, yet Justine could never mimic the seductive femininity that Jenny exuded. Suddenly, Jenny lifted her head and met Justine's gaze before ducking into Ash's arms as if frightened. "Ashie!" she mumbled. Just as always, Jenny was putting on a show again. Ash looked up with a glare. His eyes met Justine's, and the gentleness on his face dissipated, replaced by that all-too-familiar apathy and annoyance. Justine and Ash were married only because their parents had wanted them to be. She had lost her parents when she was three, though, and while she had been missing, Jenny had come out of nowhere and stolen Justine's identity. By the time Justine was finally found. Ash's mind had already been setâhe only cared for his "childhood friend". The seniors in the family had had to force him to take Justine's hand. Justine did not mind. The only thing she loved about Ash was his looks, but even that was beginning to wear thin. He seemed more and more like a stranger to her. - The elevator door shut. Justine thought their encounter was dramatic. Just imagine how much of a soap opera episode it would be like if she ran at Ash, slapped him, and then confronted Jenny! "Jean! When did you get here? I was just about to grab this medicine for you!" Justine turned to meet Iris Carr, her manager. She smiled and signed, "An expecting mother needed help." Iris studied her heart-stopping beauty and felt a pang in her heart. Justine was so gorgeous, kind, gentle, and an extraordinary dancer. She was a mute who outshone so many people Iris had known. She had even been the prima ballerina of a well-known ballet company, until⊠"Here. Your painkillers," Iris said, her eyes reddening slightly as she choked back a sob. "How could you just⊠injure your spine? You finally managed to become the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale! If you could just finish this tour, you could have..." Becoming the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale ballet company was the dream of countless dancers worldwide. And Justine had been considered after just one interviewâit was incredible! The tragedy weighed heavily on Iris. Justine had always been silent about her family matters, leading Iris to list her as orphaned on her resume, stating she had grown up in an orphanage. Over time, Iris had even come to believe it herself. The more she thought about it, the sadder she became. Justine smiled faintly, seemingly unaware of the sympathy in Iris' face, as she received the painkillers. A year ago, Ash's uncle had hired a hitman on his life. Justine's attempt to save him resulted in her spinal injury. Ash had found the best doctors money could buy and purchased expensive medical equipment for her. The medical team later concluded that her treatment was complete. Unfortunately, two months later, her old injury was aggravated while she was preparing for the tour. After another examination, Justine's career was essentially over. While the spinal injury wouldn't affect her daily life, she could no longer dance. Justine had informed Ash immediately, but he had yet to respond. Maybe he never cared. She had cried her heart out after returning from the hospital, but ultimately, she accepted her fate. This was not the end of the world. After some reflection, Justine decided to continue her tour. She would get treatment alongside it, determined to end her career as a ballet dancer on a high note. This evening's performance would be her last. However, that morning, she woke up to find her painkiller supply depleted. Justine squeezed the paper bag, her eyes feeling dry. It was as if she were a character in a soap opera. Meeting Ash and Jenny felt like a cruel joke. The pain in her spine flared slightly. Regret washed over her. If only she had never tried to save Ash. Instead, he survived long enough to become a villain, insulting the handsome face Justine once adored. She tucked the painkillers into her pocket and took out her phone. Her long lashes veiled the coldness in her eyes as she looked down at the screen. She then selected Ash's number, typed a message, and sent it immediately. - "Why was she in the OB-GYN, Ashie?" At the basement parking lot, Jenny subconsciously shielded her belly and added, "Could she be, you knowâŠ" "That's impossible," Ash replied firmly. Jenny looked away to hide her surprised glee. So Justine had never managed to sleep with him in all three years of marriage? Well, it wasn't that surprising. Everyone in Sol knew that, as a boy, Ash had almost been strangled to death by his mute and mentally ill mother. Traumatized, Ash harbored hatred for his birth motherâand for people who were mute like her. Thus, when his maternal grandparents forced him to marry Justine, it felt like a cruel joke aimed at Ash. There was no way he would ever sleep with her. Poor Justine! A laughingstock, was she not? So what if she was beautiful? What if she could perform some snobby, pretentious dance? Ash had still abandoned her. How could she ever compete with Jenny for Ash's heart? Jenny suppressed her glee and pretended to look sad. "Oh, Ashie⊠I bet the one person Justine hates the most is me. You are aware of what transpired. She nearly took my life when she returned to the Thorpes. And now she saw us at the OB-GYN," she said. "I should explain myself to her once I get back. I don't want her to throw another fitâ" "She won't," Ash interjected. Justine was his simp, always obeying his wishes. For years, there had been fabricated scandals circulating online about celebrities sleeping with him, yet Justine had never questioned him about any of it. She trusted himâlike a machine programmed to smile and serve him. "Don't overthink it, Jenny. She won't hurt you," he added. "I'll have someone escort you home safely." Jenny still looked like she was about to cry. She was on the verge of getting into Ash's car when she suddenly caught sight of Justine in the parking lot. Ash had assured her that everything would be fine, but what made him so certain? Jenny could never forget the day Justine chased her with a kitchen knife like a rabid dog. It was a true display of Justine's character. Did she really believe she could charm Ash into loving her by hiding her true nature? Did she think she could be Mrs. Vanderbilt forever? It was almost laughable. "Juju!" Jenny called out cheerfully. Justine had always hated that nickname and would go ballistic over it. What if she reacted that way again this time? Ash's expression darkened as he shot a brief glance at Justine, immediately noticing how thin she had become. Justine turned to them and nodded politely as if she had no idea who they were. She signed to the woman beside her, entered her ballet company's car, and drove away. Jenny gritted her teeth. She did not take the bait! She squeezed out some crocodile tears and grabbed Ash's sleeve. "Ashie, Ashie! Did you see that? She didn't even acknowledge us! This is all my fault! I shouldn't have come to you for help even if I have no one else to turn to⊠Because we were engaged before, so this had to look really bad⊠"Oh no, I'm the one who ruined your marriage! I should have just stayed with those guys!" she sobbed. Ash ignored her. He was fixated on what Justine had signed: "I don't know them. They mistook me for someone else." "Ashie, you gotta chase after her!" Jenny cried out as though she cared about preserving Ash and Justine's relationship. Ash was unfazed. He absent-mindedly glanced at the sleeve Jenny was grabbing and realized that Justine had bought this coat for him. She had won a ballet competition that day and used the prize money to purchase it, presenting it almost like a tribute. Ash yanked the sleeve away from Jenny. "I've told you. She won't mind." At that moment, his phone vibrated. Ash scanned the screen, and his eyes suddenly grew bitterly cold as the words leaped into view: [I want a divorce.] Chapter 2 At the Grand Theater of Sol. A towering man stood in the darkness where the audience gathered. He felt as cold as winter. His eyes were fixed on the stage as the Black Swan darted across it, agile and mesmerizing. The Black Swan's movements were fluid and firm, sensual and tempting. The man almost wished he could possess her right now. The performance was nearing its end, so the man turned away and strode toward the backstage. - The performance ended. Justine felt a quiet pain in her waist, but she gritted her teeth through the production. The crowd erupted in ovation. She took one last yearning glance at the stage and her adoring audience before returning backstage. Iris had been watching her every move with concern. "Is it hurting? I can cancel the fan meeting and photo session if you need it. You can rest in the breakroom, and once the rest of the performance is over, I'll come for you," Iris suggested. Justine waved reassuringly. Many of these fans had traveled all the way to Sol to see her performanceâto meet her. How could she let them down? Soon, the photo session concluded. After checking in with Justine, Iris left to direct the stage. Suddenly, Justine found herself alone. She looked around as memories flooded back. Ballet had been a part of her for as long as she could remember. Concerned that Justine's disability might hinder her job prospects, the orphanage's director had signed her up for ballet classes after discovering her talent, despite the lack of funding from the orphanage. All that hard work and dedication was gone like the wind because of her career-ending injury. How could anyone not feel regret? Justine removed her makeup and pressed her hand against her waist, trying to support it as she tiredly headed to the prima ballerina's room. It was dark inside. She reached for the light switch. Suddenly, from the shadows, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. Then, the door shut and locked behind her. Panic surged through Justine. The scent enveloping her was familiar. Why was Ash there? Before she could answer her own question, he pressed his lips forcefully against hers. More kisses followed, violent and punishing. Justine wanted to shove him away, but Ash was a hulking mass of angry muscle, dominating her completely. Fear surged as she bit his tongue, tasting blood, but he didn't stop. Jenny had no idea how wrong she was about Justine and Ash's life. Their marriage had been consummated quickly, thanks to the "intervention" of some elders. Although Ash might resent Justine's existence, he was undeniably addicted to her body. They had known each other for so long and so well that they instinctively understood how to arouse and please one another. This knowledge was etched into their flesh, a part of their movements. Justine's thoughts spiraled into chaos. Suddenly, she felt a bite on her shoulder. She could tell Ash was upset just from the strengthâand it irritated her. What was his problem?! He had always wanted this divorce! he had signed the paper with his name on the day of their wedding! With Justine gone, he would finally be able to marry the woman he really wanted, right? So why is he angry now? Because she was the one who had suggested it instead of him? The backstage was starting to fill with people. She could even hear one of the assistant artistic directors rushing past her room. If anyone were to knockâor even openâher door, Justine would be famous in the scene for the worst reason possible! Justine bit her lips, forcing herself not to let out even a should. Unfortunately, this only made Ash more beastly. He hated silence, so he did everything he could to make her scream and yelp. - The light was on, bright and blinding. Ash sat languidly on the couch, his shirt and suit surprisingly neat. In contrast, Justine's expensive ballet dress lay torn. After a shower, she slipped into an oversized practice garment while Ash glared at her. "A divorce?" he asked, cutting straight to the chase. It was difficult to discern his emotions from his voice. Justine studied himâhe was still as handsome as ever, but gone was the youthful, teenage look she once loved. In its place stood an indifferent, reserved man in a suit. Her eyes no longer sparkled with admiration and yearning when she looked at him. She nodded firmly. Ash snickered. "What? Because of Jenny?" For some reason, the thought of Justine exploding over his affair with Jenny excited him. Unfortunately, she simply shook her head determinedly. "I don't love you anymore," she signed. "That's why I want a divorce." Reality shattered Ash's fleeting excitement. Her straightforwardness left no room for ambiguityâshe didn't even hint at clinging. His mind went blank. Suddenly, he recalled that rainy night many years ago when that woman had pushed him into the mud, signing furiously, "I don't love you anymore! I am not your mother! You are disgusting, just like your father! Go away! I don't want to see you anymore!" It felt as though all emotions had drained from him. Ash rose and glared at Justine frostily. "Suit me just fine. You stole this marriage from Jenny back then, anyway. She finally gets what's always been hers." "Congratulations," Justine signed earnestly. Ash was stunned. He had not expected that from her. He remembered Jenny begging Justine not to take him away when Justine had taken out a lipstick and written on the wall, right in front of their parents, 'He is mine, and only mine!' The same woman⊠just congratulated Jenny. Rage inexplicably flared within him. Granted, this marriage should have ended sooner. It had been delayed because she had saved his life while sustaining grievous injuries a year ago, but now she was the one requesting a divorce. That worked to Ash's advantage, right? He had no reason to be mad. "My lawyer will contact you tomorrow at noon to finalize our divorce," he said. Justine nodded. Surprisingly, she felt not a hint of sadness or longing. "Good. We can announce our divorce at the family dinner tomorrow evening," she signed. Ash looked away from her. she had this all planned out, hadn't she? It was as if she could not wait to have every tie with him severed. Chapter 3 Ash sneered and went through the door. Justine watched his hulking frame, suddenly recalling hazy memories of her teenage past: a younger version of him, tall and lean, with his back against her. Despite her earlier calm, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. "JustineâŠ" He had stopped by the door and turned to face her. "I no longer answer to my grandfather, Justine. So there's zero chance of you going back to being my wife after this. Don't regret it. "And most importantlyâdon't give Jenny trouble. You've tormented her enough." Ash understood how obsessive her love had been. Justine's life was so devoid of meaning that the only two things she had were ballet and him. This was why Ash was convinced that Justine's sudden change of attitude stemmed from spite after seeing Jenny. Once she calmed down, he was sure she would regret this decision. His job was to ensure her regret was futile. She could no longer return to himâand he would never accept her. Justine was kind and courteous to everyone except Jenny. Ash had never managed to protect her well enoughâthe poor girl had endured much of Justine's wrath. That was why he was determined not to let Jenny suffer for him any longer, no matter how hysterical Justine could be. "Trust me, Mr. Vanderbilt. You should say this to her," Justine signed, her eyes gentle as always. "She should not mess with me." Otherwise, Jenny would suffer worse. - Justine was nothing if not determined. When Ash was her prize, no oneânot could have gotten in her way. But now that she wanted him out of her life, she wouldn't shed a tear for him. After Ash left, Justine cleaned up the room. She picked up the torn pieces of her favorite ballet dress. It had been tailor-made for herâa piece of luxury she had won in an international competition. Fixing it would require a lot of money. She had to demand compensation for it in the divorce agreement! Just then, she heard Iris' voice from outside. "Jean? Are you up?" The performances had ended a while ago. Iris had arrived earlier, but the light in the room had been off, so she had assumed Justine had been sleeping. Justine lit a lavender candle, and once the stench of Ash's intrusion faded, she opened the door. "It's over?" she signed. "Other troupes have all left except for your group! Everyone's waiting for you at the party," Iris replied, doing her best to mask her sadness. Yes, it was a party, all rightâa farewell party. Suddenly, Justine's phone rang, startling her. Few people ever called her phone. Those who knew her preferred video calls. But this was an audio call. "Looks like a landline number," Iris murmured. She quickly looked it up on the Internet. "That's⊠Eudaimonia Home in Saintwood. Why is a nursing home calling you at this hour?" Justine answered the call before Iris finished her explanation. "Is this Justine Thorpe? Good evening. This is Eudaimonia Home. Mrs. Aurora Roch hasn't been feeling too well for the past two days. If you can, please come here as soon as possible. She would like to meet you." Justine was shocked. - The trip took three hours, and it was already one in the morning when Justine arrived. The nurse who had called her led Justine to Aurora's room. "She's been expecting you," the young woman said. The sight of a sickly, bony woman on a sickbed greeted Justine. Aurora had once been the director of Glascape Orphanage and had been a mother figure who raised Justine. She was the one who had recognized the potential ballerina in her and let her shine. Three years ago⊠While suffering from an incurable disease, Justine's grandfather found her in the orphanage and wanted her to return home. Justine refusedâuntil some bloggers discovered Glascape Island. The rustic beauty of the fishing town quickly spread across the Internet, attracting several corporations eager to transform it into a tourist destination. At that critical moment, Aurora was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Justine faced a difficult choice. She needed money to prevent the island's purchase and save Aurora. Thus, she approached her grandfather and agreed to a deal. Soon after, Aurora informed Justine that she had contacted a hospital abroad where she would receive treatment. They parted ways but promised to stay in touch. "The treatment went well," she would say. "I met someone I love in the wonderful continent of Aestra. I would like to spend my last few years there." Justine believed her. Aurora had discovered her stomach cancer at an early stage, so her chances of recovery were high. Justine sincerely hoped Aurora was living happily out there, free from any shackles. Then Justine decided to marry Ash. That was when Aurora suddenly came to see her. They had a big argument, and afterward, Aurora stopped contacting Justine. - For years, Justine had been trying to locate Aurora. She would ask around and chase down leads, but she never managed to find herâuntil today. On her way to the hospital, the nurse provided details about Aurora's illness. The cancer cells had been spreading even back when they had their fight. "Jean, is that you?" Aurora's voice sounded familiar and foreign at the same time. Justine approached her, choking back tears. Aurora examined her face and smiled. "Oh, Jean. You're even more beautiful now!" she whispered. Justine studied her in disbelief. Suffering had taken so much from her. Aurora was left with nothing but bones and skin! Justine could not help but cry. "I thought you found someone you love! A-And you're spending your last days somewhere in Aestra!" Justine signed slowly. "So why are you here? Why are you⊠dying?" Aurora's eyes reddened. "I'm so sorry. I lied." Justine cast her eyes at Aurora's face, shakily holding her hands. She pressed her forehead against the back of Aurora's handsâjust like she used to when she was a child. But there was no warmth left in Aurora's hands. They were frighteningly cold. "Love, you're all grown up now. You have to⊠learn to accept death⊠Mine⊠and Ares'..." Ares⊠Justine felt her blood freeze. Memories flooded herâit was a beautiful day. A young man ran across the white waves as they rolled. He laughed and turned back to her, his smile brighter than the sun. "Come over here for a hug, Little Justine!" he had called. Pain coursed through Justineâs limbs. She met Aurora's gaze, her eyes brimming with tears of agony. Chapter 4 Aurora knew exactly what was on her mind. She had raised this child, after all. Half a year after Ares' death, the Thorpe family located Justine in Glascape. Aurora hadn't wanted to be separated from the young woman, but Justine's worsening mental state had made her reconsider. Justine had taken it poorly, wasting all her time searching for news about a man who was already dead. She had been a woman possessedâeveryone feared she would become more self-destructive. Aurora had hoped that sending Justine away to a new place with her original family might help her move on. That was why she had accepted the Thorpes' offer. Thus, Justine returned to Sol. Who would have thought Justine would marry someone not long after? Aurora knew how much Justine had loved Ares. There was no way she could have accepted another man in her life so soonâlet alone a husband. Fearing it was a political marriage of convenience at the cost of her child's agency, Aurora had rushed to Sol. That was when she met Ash Vanderbilt. The young man had just returned from studying abroad. Most terrifying, though, was how much he resembled Ares physically. The only difference between them was the feeling they evoked. Justine had gone mad! She had latched onto Ash as if he were her last hope, utterly convinced in her denial that Ash Vanderbilt was an amnesiac Ares Vance. Any mention of the truthâAres' deathâwould send Justine into uncontrollable hysteria. So why was she so different today? Why was she looking at Aurora with such crushing dejection in her eyes⊠without a single retort of denial? "Y-You know⊠he's not him, d-don't you?" Aurora whispered shakily. Justine nodded tearfully. Of course, she knew! Ahhh, Ash could not muster even the smallest amount of the kindness Ares had so effortlessly displayed. However, back then, Justine could not bear the thought of living in a world without Ares. She had deluded herself, clinging to an impostor, surviving through Ash's superficial semblance of him. How else could she have lived this long? But Ash... was a disappointment. He wore those suits so frequently now that it had become harder and harder to see Ares' ghost in him. Aurora let out a pained sob. "No, no, no. How cruel has he been to youâŠ" How cruel had Ash been to Justine? How much hurt had she endured to break a spell so ingrained in her? What had it taken for Justine to admit she had been living in a delusion? The implication stabbed Aurora like a knife. The equipment connected to her began to beep shrillily in alarm. Justine panicked. She was about to call the nurse when Aurora suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Jean⊠once I'm gone, you're not bound to anyone in this world anymore⊠Do you understand me?" she croaked. "Leave them. Go home. L-Live⊠your life... You are free, Jean." Justine nodded frantically, pressing the emergency button over and over. Aurora's breathing grew erratic, but her eyes were fixed on Justine. She could not leave just yet. Her precious girl was still there, all alone. No one would stand for her. No one would speak for her. Alone. "J-Jean..." she whispered one last time, holding Justine's hand. "C-Call me..." Justine trembled. "Call me... M-Mom..." Aurora exhausted all her strength. Her body collapsed into Justine's arms, her breath short. The old woman was hyperventilating, looking at Justine with a pleading gaze. Justine had not been born mute. It was traumaâfrom before her time in the orphanageâthat had caused her mutism. Aurora had taken her to countless specialists, but the effects of the treatments had been discouragingly small. Now, all Justine could hear was the ringing in her ears. She nodded vigorously and opened her mouth, trying to force out a sound. Her throat felt strange. Panic welled inside her. Time seemed to slow. All she could produce was silence. The nurses rushed into the room, and Justine felt herself being pulled away from Aurora. Chaos surrounded her, accompanied by the incessant ringing in her ears. It wasn't until she heard the long beep from the machine that the ringing finally subsided. One of the nurses gently closed Aurora's eyes. She had been watching Justine until the very end. Then, they covered her pain-twisted face with a piece of white cloth. It was not the first corpse Justine had ever seen. The first time was at a funeral home in Glascape. Aurora had howled, her voice thick with tears, "Ares! no, no!" 'You see this, Ares? You loved me so much, and yet I wasn't there when you ended your life. I never even visited you once in so many years. 'She raised me, right? She just wanted me to call her Mom. And I couldn't even do that. 'I'm a terrible person,' Justine thought. - Aurora had left notes for her burial. There was to be no funeral. She wanted to be cremated immediately. She had also appointed Justine to decide what to do with her ashes and belongings. As Aurora was pushed into the crematory, the nurse who had cared for her the longest collapsed to her knees in tears, howling. But Justine could only watch in cursed silence. Her lips were pale as she tried to call out to Aurora in her mind. - The first snow had arrived on Sol. Ash's meeting had just ended. Robin Letto, his secretary, rushed to his side. "Mr. Vanderbilt! Ms. Pearce said she can't seem to contact Mrs. Vanderbilt," she said hesitantly, too afraid to even breathe too loudly. Ashâs mood had been in the gutters today. It was as if the air itself could freeze around him. Logically, after regaining full control over the family business and outmaneuvering his uncles, Ash should have been overjoyed. Yet, he was the exact opposite. Ash frowned. "Fine." He expected her to regret it, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Now, divorce was back on the table. Despite Ash's thoughts, there was a renewed spring in his step, something even he failed to notice. Nearby, Robin acutely sensed the change in his demeanor. His mood, unexpectedly, seemed to have improved. Ash returned to his office and booted up his laptop. The document he had been working on appeared on the screen: the divorce agreement. He had been revising the terms of the compensation Justine was entitled to receive. The offers were generous. The money alone would be enough for her to live comfortably for a lifetime. He had purchased a property for her abroad. Knowing she had been accepted as the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale, he had bought her a villa in Voue, the capital city of Charlemagne, where the ballet company was based. To Ash, these gestures were his way of expressing gratitude for saving his life. - At noon, a meticulously dolled-up Jenny stepped into Ash's car, and they drove to a Michelin-starred restaurant she had been eager to visit for ages. Grinning sweetly, she cooed, "Ngaww, I don't know what came over me! I just had to eat at this restaurant! You're such a gem, Ashie!" Ash smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're happy." Jenny nodded firmly. "Of course I am! You're always so nice to me." She hesitated for a moment. "Um⊠Did Justine⊠you knowâŠ" Ash's smile faded. "Let's just eat." Jenny felt a surge of satisfaction at his darkened expression at the mere mention of Justine. Lunch soon ended, and Ash needed to return to work. "I've kept you long enough, Ashie! Good luck with work!" she said brightly. "I'm off to meet my friends for afternoon tea!" Ash briefly glanced at her belly. "Please take care of yourself." "Of course!" she chirped, waving him off. Once he was out of sight, Jenny's smile disappeared. The innocence drained from her expression as she dialed a number. "Hey. Are you sure Justine will be at the Thierry family's soiree?" she asked. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14797&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 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=14797&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465733853_502380432950668_5964851641982863637_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6gk_XGdZO9gQ7kNvgFNilLr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYDKF9H2oyMAHV9wEOh0sJs4bHk2Z74exkGhAKeiJchWpg&oe=67459863 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 | ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ Đ”Đ” заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла Ń ŃĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж. Đ ĐœĐ”ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ бДлŃĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃĐ” аŃпДĐșŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșаŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đž Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃжДŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃЎОл Đș ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ·Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐŽŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃал ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃжаŃĐœŃŃ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČŃŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзла ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐœŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń . ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ, Đ”Ń Ń ĐžŃŃŃĐč ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐ” ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃОЎŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐČĐœŃĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. ĐŁŃĐžŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ” ЎаЎŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃОД ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. Đ, ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃŃа, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО Đ±Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐœŃŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Ń Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла Đ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐșŃĐ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. РазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐžŃĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐČŃŃазОŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐĐœ ŃаĐșжД ĐŸŃĐșазал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ŃĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ Đž запŃĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đа ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа, ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃЎОлŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĄĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ Ń ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž ŃаŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž плДŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаŃŃŃŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОŃŃ? Đ ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐŸĐČДЎŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОла ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” ŃŃала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз зала Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐČ, а Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đ” плаŃŃĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»ŃĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ ŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ĐČĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đž ŃЎаŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČзглŃĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃДлŃĐŸĐș ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃДлŃ, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃĐŸ...» ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐ». ĐŃŃа ĐșĐ°ĐœŃДлŃŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč Ńпала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Đ”Ń ŃДД ĐżŃОжалŃŃ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ!» - ŃĐČĐžŃĐ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃазглŃĐŽĐ”ŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃЎДлŃлОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”ŃŃалО ĐČ ŃŃŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ бЎОŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. Đ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐžŃал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·Đ°, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ĐČŃаŃа, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐŸĐłŃ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃŃ Đ°ŃаĐșĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč Ńжал Đ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ” Đž ĐżŃОжал Đș ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐŽŃŃĐł ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «ĐŃŃŃŃДД, Ń ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ» ŃŃЎа!» ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐžĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž, Đž ŃŃĐž Đ»ŃĐŽĐž ĐČĐŸŃĐČалОŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃала Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ Đž бŃла ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃŃлО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐžĐœŃĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đș ŃДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Ń. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐœŃĐ». ĐĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ Đ°: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸÂ». ĐĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐž за ŃŃĐŸ бŃаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃлОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОл, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃДагОŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČŃĐș. ĐĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃĐŒ, Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń Đ»ŃĐŽĐž за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО. «Ч*ŃŃ ĐČ*Đ·ŃĐŒĐž! Đа ŃŃĐŸ жД ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸŃĐșа. ЧŃĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐĐŒĐ”ĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃОлОŃĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń ĐžĐ· ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ŃĐșŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ· ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. «ЧŃĐŸ ж, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐŃĐŸŃ ŃблŃĐŽĐŸĐș ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃОл ŃЎДлаŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ». «ĐĐŸ, ŃŃĐČаĐș, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃĐ” Đ·ĐČŃĐșĐž, а?» «ĐаŃĐșĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčŃŃ! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃДД, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ!» ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŸŃОлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČаŃДлО ŃŃлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐČалŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃĐž Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»Đ”ŃŃĐœŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃĐž, ОлО ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșаŃалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŽŃŃга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń Đ±ŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃОлОĐČĐ” аЎŃĐ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐœŃаŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·ŃĐ”ĐČала. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа жОла ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ, ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз - Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń Ńаз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃĐČĐŸĐž запŃĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžĐč, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐżŃĐžĐŽŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. РзаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃŃĐ», ŃаĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ». ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. йОŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃОл Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ»Đ”Đ¶ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Ńпал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ! - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -Đ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДзлО паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа. ĐĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОл ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐŒŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ!» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃОла ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃŃал ŃĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃŃбĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ŃДбŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ОлО ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлДЎŃŃĐČĐžŃŃ . ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ŃĐșŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž. ĐĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, ŃжД блОзОлŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐș жД ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃжалОŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ”ŃлОŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ бŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃла Ń Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČŃЎаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа». «ĐалŃŃĐ” Ń ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃŃŃ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń, Đž ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла бŃĐŸĐČĐž. - ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČалŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń?» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐč, Ń ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐžŃ . ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżŃОбДŃĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃала, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżŃОЎала ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃŃпДла ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐлаĐČа 2 ЧŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ Â«ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃаŃ, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. - ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ŃаблОŃĐșŃ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐ” ĐŻĐœŃ. «ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ”. «ĐŃЎа ĐŒŃ ĐžĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ. ĐĐœ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа жЎаŃŃ». ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”ŃĐ” ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ŃĐŽĐŸŃаĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃĐŸĐ” ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžĐœŃжЎŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ŃĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč глаз Đž ĐżŃĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đ±ŃлО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃДзĐșĐžĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃДЎŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃĐșŃŃĐČал Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐžŃŃŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃаĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃОД Đ±Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃĐžŃ . Đ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОŃа ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČалаŃŃ Đ¶ŃŃŃĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ ŃŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃаŃŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸ: «ĐĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃĐž бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐșĐŸŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃЎДлалО ĐČаŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃОД. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃ Đž ŃбŃалО ĐČŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃлОĐșĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃЎОл ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŻ ŃаĐșжД пДŃДпŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОл запОŃĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ ŃДзĐșĐŸ пДŃĐ”Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОО «ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ». «ĐŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Ń Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżŃĐžĐłĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. «Đа... Đ-ŃŃĐŸ бŃла Ń», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đș ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ. ĐŃĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалД ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžĐșĐž. Đ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș ŃаĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŸŃŃаŃлО Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” бŃĐŽŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃŃĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃлО Ńж ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż Đș ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃжОŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ЎажД бŃаĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ń ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃОла жŃŃŃĐșŃŃ Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČŃŃал ĐĐžŃалОĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃа ЎаŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃĐœŃĐč ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. «РŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐČŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ, ĐșаĐș бŃĐŽŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». «ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «ĐаŃалŃĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃОлŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČŃ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ бŃаĐș ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ ĐČаŃĐžĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ». ĐŃĐ±Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐœŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ”, а лОŃĐŸ Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ заŃŃаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «йДбД ŃŃĐŸ, жОŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃОгŃĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșазал ŃĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ»ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃа - ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃŃа ОлО ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐžĐč за ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ЎДлОŃŃ Ń ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОла Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸ. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ° бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃлДзОлОŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃĐŸ, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ. ĐŃ ĐŒŃŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đș ĐżŃДЎŃĐŽŃŃĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±Ń ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Ńла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±Ńла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐČДлО ĐžŃ Đș ĐœŃĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ŃаĐșŃ ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ŃаĐșŃĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐČĐ»ŃŃŃŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐ”Ń: «ĐŃ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃĐ” ŃаĐș ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Ń ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ńала ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČŃŃаĐșаŃŃ?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ». ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃла Đ”Đč ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ĐŃпДĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД». «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”Ńла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. «ĐĐ” за ŃŃĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș Đž бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐČŃŃĐŸĐșа. ĐажД бДз ŃĐžŃŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ĐČŃаŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃла ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃОО Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃла ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ заĐčŃĐž ĐČ ŃŃаŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ŃапОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃаЎала ĐŸŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃĐžŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž бŃла пДŃĐ”ŃаЎĐșа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃаŃ, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° бŃаĐș, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃĐ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃĐŸŃОла ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ: «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ°, Ń ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃлДŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃаŃ». ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”ŃжĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ лОŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșаŃĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. «ĐОла, - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃĐ»Ńгѻ. ĐлаĐČа 3 ЧаŃŃĐœŃĐč паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃаŃŃĐ” Đ”Ń. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐșŃпДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃĐž. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ ĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «РĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃгД ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ?» - ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐœŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐčŃŃ ĐČ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž Ń ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșŃŃĐ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃ ŃаŃпОŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”, Đž, Đ”ŃлО ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐžŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃЎа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃŃ ŃДбД аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃ ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. «ĐĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлОŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. «ĐŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ ŃŃал ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ. - ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč лОŃĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃлДŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа». «ЯŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ Đș паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃаĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. ĐаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃĐž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐČĐœŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃŃĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ. ЧДŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ бŃла ŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ”, ĐČŃâŠÂ» - ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ· ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃжД ŃЎДлала ĐČŃĐČĐŸĐŽ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ, Đž ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа», - ŃĐșазала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐœŃĐ» ĐœĐ° апŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐ”Ńжала: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ЎДлаŃŃ?» «Đа, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃОО. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃОалŃĐœĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœĐ” пДŃДЎал Đ±Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” заŃĐ»ŃжОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐČĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃŃŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ лДŃŃĐœĐžŃĐ” ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «ĐаĐș Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз ŃĐČĐ”Ńа?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОл ŃĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. «ĐĐșĐ»ŃŃĐž ŃĐČДѻ, - ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐșĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ŃŃĐșĐžĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа бŃĐ» ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐŒŃŃлДĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, лДжаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž, ŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃбаŃĐșа бŃла ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ заŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đč ĐșŃĐŸĐČĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐČЎаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ŃĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐČŃЎаĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃОлОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃала Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃĐ°ĐŒĐž ŃазŃДзала ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃлО. ĐĐœĐ° ŃбŃала ĐČŃŃ Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŃОД ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżŃаĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ńала лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаĐČ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ±ŃлО бŃŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃĐžĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃŃŃ Đ»Đž Ń ĐČĐ°Ń Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”ŃĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČŃДЎОлО лОŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃаŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Đ”Ń. «ĐДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐČалŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃпОла Đș ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Đ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ŃĐ°Đœ. ĐĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČОД ĐżŃДпаŃаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČŃ. ĐŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃОла. Đ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ Đž ŃŃпДŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐșĐž Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃŃ». «ĐŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·Ń», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ŃпалŃĐœŃ. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° пДŃĐČŃĐč ŃŃаж, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃŃĐ» ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «Я ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČŃОД ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ°ĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃ, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ ĐČŃŃĐžŃлОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČаŃĐ”Đč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč заŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, ŃŃажОĐČаŃŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ŃлабŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃŃ ĐœŃлО ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃĐŒ блДŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° пДŃĐ”ĐČŃĐ» ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșа. «ĐŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃŃŃĐŒŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: «Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ŃĐČŃзалŃŃ Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐĐžŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČŃЎаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃаŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃĐžĐČал ĐČаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ńа. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». «ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” пДŃĐ”ŃŃаŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐČДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč. Đа ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐžŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°Đœ ĐĐ»ŃŃ. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐĐ»ŃĐž Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ŃЎалŃĐč Đ±Đ°Ń "КаŃĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃĐ” ĐŃбаŃŃĐșаŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Đа, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐ»Ńб ŃŃал ĐžŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐžŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž Đ”ŃлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃĐŸŃŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐłĐŸÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ŃŃал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșŃаĐČŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐżŃŃĐșалŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃа: «ĐŃлО ĐČŃ ŃаŃŃĐșажДŃĐ” ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ, ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń ŃжаŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ», - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ĐŃлО ŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃаĐČĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃзаŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·Ń. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла: «Я ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃаĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐčĐŽŃ». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐžŃĐŸĐșОД плДŃĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ. «ĐŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃŃлО?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž бŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ Đ¶Đ” бŃла ĐČŃаŃĐŸĐŒ. «ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ŃĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃĐčŃĐ” ĐžŃ Ńаз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ŃŃбаŃĐșĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃажаŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла бŃŃŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșŃ Ń ŃаблДŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃбОĐș Ń ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃŃĐž лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČа». ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃал ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșазала Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃжД ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐșŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐČа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐČŃаŃа. «Я ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐŻĐœŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșŃ», - ŃĐșазал глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃĐżŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃла ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸ Ń ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃ ŃжД ŃĐ”ŃОлО ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОДĐč "ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ". ĐŃĐ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐĐžŃалОŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž Đž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃŃĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. «ĐĐŸŃ ĐșаĐș?» «Đа, Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃаĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸŃДл ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃЎДлŃлаŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃĐžĐșĐ”. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃŃалŃĐœŃŃ . «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃДбД, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃаОĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČа ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃŃĐžŃŃĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. «ĐĐœĐ” Đ”ŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ», - ŃĐŒĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń ŃĐœŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžŃ, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŒŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐČ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ , ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ плŃŃ ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐ». ĐĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃла ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŽŃаĐČŃŃĐČŃĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ. - ĐąŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐłĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ĐĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒĐž ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐČ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐž бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž ŃĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž ŃĐŸ жД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐŸĐč Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃДД ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃДЎŃ, ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃĐžŃала ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž бŃла ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž бŃлО абŃĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ лаЎОлО. «Đ, ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, - ŃĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃглŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ-ŃĐŸ ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - ĐĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”-ŃĐŸ Ń Ń ĐŸŃДла Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐșаŃŃĐžĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃО», - ŃĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ŃаĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ŃаĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ŃĐČŃзалаŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃЎалОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœŃ. «йŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃала, Ўа? ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃâŠÂ» «ĐŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșД», - пДŃДбОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Đ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃĐșазала Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «РДŃŃ, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ” ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ ĐČŃŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалŃ, Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŻĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșажŃ». Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃалĐșĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃДзĐČŃŃаĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. Đа ŃĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐŸŃОО Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла ĐżŃОпаŃĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸŃĐŸŃ. «ĐŃ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, пДŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃлОŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃОЎДл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșŃ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČŃаŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč лДŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃ. Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ŃŃĐ”ĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐŸĐČĐž Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлОŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлŃŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ” Đ”Ń?» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ заблДŃŃДл ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃŃŃĐČа. «ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃŃŃĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃД». ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃпаŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДŃОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ? «ĐŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŽŃба?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃОла ЎаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ? «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, пДŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 862 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | VIDEO | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213512791780790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466679846_1957228308089393_3830172357365587231_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=U3rjeIoKhRIQ7kNvgFCEFPK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AN9IFGtRXwCWLeji_vgs1Yk&oh=00_AYDF5KEHfdmxXculyMST6Ez955wqiyTz1hiBFKhC1cS5-Q&oe=6745C2F1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464432077_1960115727748651_6854014262409917585_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=B0ae1HxtHCYQ7kNvgF7z_aG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYABOdsswnLNoLzMoow501j2fPqcN1DG-sD7Kja3PEUXig&oe=67459B9F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ Đ”Đ” заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла Ń ŃĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж. Đ ĐœĐ”ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ бДлŃĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃĐ” аŃпДĐșŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșаŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đž Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃжДŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃЎОл Đș ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ·Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐŽŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃал ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃжаŃĐœŃŃ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČŃŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзла ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐœŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń . ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ, Đ”Ń Ń ĐžŃŃŃĐč ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐ” ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃОЎŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐČĐœŃĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. ĐŁŃĐžŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ” ЎаЎŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃОД ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. Đ, ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃŃа, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО Đ±Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐœŃŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Ń Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла Đ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐșŃĐ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. РазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐžŃĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐČŃŃазОŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐĐœ ŃаĐșжД ĐŸŃĐșазал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ŃĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ Đž запŃĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đа ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа, ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃЎОлŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĄĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ Ń ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž ŃаŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž плДŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаŃŃŃŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОŃŃ? Đ ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐŸĐČДЎŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОла ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” ŃŃала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз зала Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐČ, а Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đ” плаŃŃĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»ŃĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ ŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ĐČĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đž ŃЎаŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČзглŃĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃДлŃĐŸĐș ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃДлŃ, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃĐŸ...» ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐ». ĐŃŃа ĐșĐ°ĐœŃДлŃŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč Ńпала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Đ”Ń ŃДД ĐżŃОжалŃŃ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ!» - ŃĐČĐžŃĐ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃазглŃĐŽĐ”ŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃЎДлŃлОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”ŃŃалО ĐČ ŃŃŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ бЎОŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. Đ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐžŃал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·Đ°, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ĐČŃаŃа, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐŸĐłŃ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃŃ Đ°ŃаĐșĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč Ńжал Đ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ” Đž ĐżŃОжал Đș ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐŽŃŃĐł ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «ĐŃŃŃŃДД, Ń ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ» ŃŃЎа!» ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐžĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž, Đž ŃŃĐž Đ»ŃĐŽĐž ĐČĐŸŃĐČалОŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃала Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ Đž бŃла ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃŃлО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐžĐœŃĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đș ŃДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Ń. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐœŃĐ». ĐĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ Đ°: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸÂ». ĐĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐž за ŃŃĐŸ бŃаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃлОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОл, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃДагОŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČŃĐș. ĐĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃĐŒ, Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń Đ»ŃĐŽĐž за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО. «Ч*ŃŃ ĐČ*Đ·ŃĐŒĐž! Đа ŃŃĐŸ жД ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸŃĐșа. ЧŃĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐĐŒĐ”ĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃОлОŃĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń ĐžĐ· ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ŃĐșŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ· ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. «ЧŃĐŸ ж, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐŃĐŸŃ ŃблŃĐŽĐŸĐș ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃОл ŃЎДлаŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ». «ĐĐŸ, ŃŃĐČаĐș, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃĐ” Đ·ĐČŃĐșĐž, а?» «ĐаŃĐșĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčŃŃ! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃДД, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ!» ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŸŃОлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČаŃДлО ŃŃлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐČалŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃĐž Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»Đ”ŃŃĐœŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃĐž, ОлО ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșаŃалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŽŃŃга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń Đ±ŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃОлОĐČĐ” аЎŃĐ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐœŃаŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·ŃĐ”ĐČала. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа жОла ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ, ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз - Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń Ńаз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃĐČĐŸĐž запŃĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžĐč, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐżŃĐžĐŽŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. РзаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃŃĐ», ŃаĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ». ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. йОŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃОл Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ»Đ”Đ¶ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Ńпал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ! - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -Đ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДзлО паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа. ĐĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОл ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐŒŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ!» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃОла ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃŃал ŃĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃŃбĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ŃДбŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ОлО ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлДЎŃŃĐČĐžŃŃ . ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ŃĐșŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž. ĐĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, ŃжД блОзОлŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐș жД ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃжалОŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ”ŃлОŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ бŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃла Ń Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČŃЎаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа». «ĐалŃŃĐ” Ń ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃŃŃ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń, Đž ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла бŃĐŸĐČĐž. - ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČалŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń?» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐč, Ń ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐžŃ . ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżŃОбДŃĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃала, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżŃОЎала ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃŃпДла ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐлаĐČа 2 ЧŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ Â«ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃаŃ, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. - ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ŃаблОŃĐșŃ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐ” ĐŻĐœŃ. «ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ”. «ĐŃЎа ĐŒŃ ĐžĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ. ĐĐœ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа жЎаŃŃ». ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”ŃĐ” ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ŃĐŽĐŸŃаĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃĐŸĐ” ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžĐœŃжЎŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ŃĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč глаз Đž ĐżŃĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đ±ŃлО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃДзĐșĐžĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃДЎŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃĐșŃŃĐČал Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐžŃŃŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃаĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃОД Đ±Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃĐžŃ . Đ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОŃа ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČалаŃŃ Đ¶ŃŃŃĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ ŃŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃаŃŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸ: «ĐĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃĐž бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐșĐŸŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃЎДлалО ĐČаŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃОД. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃ Đž ŃбŃалО ĐČŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃлОĐșĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃЎОл ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŻ ŃаĐșжД пДŃДпŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОл запОŃĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ ŃДзĐșĐŸ пДŃĐ”Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОО «ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ». «ĐŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Ń Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżŃĐžĐłĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. «Đа... Đ-ŃŃĐŸ бŃла Ń», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đș ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ. ĐŃĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалД ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžĐșĐž. Đ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș ŃаĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŸŃŃаŃлО Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” бŃĐŽŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃŃĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃлО Ńж ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż Đș ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃжОŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ЎажД бŃаĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ń ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃОла жŃŃŃĐșŃŃ Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČŃŃал ĐĐžŃалОĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃа ЎаŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃĐœŃĐč ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. «РŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐČŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ, ĐșаĐș бŃĐŽŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». «ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «ĐаŃалŃĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃОлŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČŃ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ бŃаĐș ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ ĐČаŃĐžĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ». ĐŃĐ±Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐœŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ”, а лОŃĐŸ Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ заŃŃаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «йДбД ŃŃĐŸ, жОŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃОгŃĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșазал ŃĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ»ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃа - ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃŃа ОлО ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐžĐč за ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ЎДлОŃŃ Ń ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОла Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸ. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ° бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃлДзОлОŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃĐŸ, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ. ĐŃ ĐŒŃŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đș ĐżŃДЎŃĐŽŃŃĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±Ń ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Ńла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±Ńла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐČДлО ĐžŃ Đș ĐœŃĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ŃаĐșŃ ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ŃаĐșŃĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐČĐ»ŃŃŃŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐ”Ń: «ĐŃ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃĐ” ŃаĐș ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Ń ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ńала ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČŃŃаĐșаŃŃ?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ». ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃла Đ”Đč ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ĐŃпДĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД». «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”Ńла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. «ĐĐ” за ŃŃĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș Đž бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐČŃŃĐŸĐșа. ĐажД бДз ŃĐžŃŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ĐČŃаŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃла ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃОО Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃла ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ заĐčŃĐž ĐČ ŃŃаŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ŃапОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃаЎала ĐŸŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃĐžŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž бŃла пДŃĐ”ŃаЎĐșа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃаŃ, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° бŃаĐș, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃĐ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃĐŸŃОла ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ: «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ°, Ń ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃлДŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃаŃ». ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”ŃжĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ лОŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșаŃĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. «ĐОла, - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃĐ»Ńгѻ. ĐлаĐČа 3 ЧаŃŃĐœŃĐč паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃаŃŃĐ” Đ”Ń. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐșŃпДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃĐž. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ ĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «РĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃгД ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ?» - ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐœŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐčŃŃ ĐČ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž Ń ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșŃŃĐ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃ ŃаŃпОŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”, Đž, Đ”ŃлО ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐžŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃЎа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃŃ ŃДбД аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃ ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. «ĐĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлОŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. «ĐŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ ŃŃал ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ. - ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč лОŃĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃлДŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа». «ЯŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ Đș паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃаĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. ĐаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃĐž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐČĐœŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃŃĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ. ЧДŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ бŃла ŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ”, ĐČŃâŠÂ» - ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ· ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃжД ŃЎДлала ĐČŃĐČĐŸĐŽ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ, Đž ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа», - ŃĐșазала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐœŃĐ» ĐœĐ° апŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐ”Ńжала: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ЎДлаŃŃ?» «Đа, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃОО. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃОалŃĐœĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœĐ” пДŃДЎал Đ±Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” заŃĐ»ŃжОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐČĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃŃŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ лДŃŃĐœĐžŃĐ” ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «ĐаĐș Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз ŃĐČĐ”Ńа?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОл ŃĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. «ĐĐșĐ»ŃŃĐž ŃĐČДѻ, - ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐșĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ŃŃĐșĐžĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа бŃĐ» ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐŒŃŃлДĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, лДжаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž, ŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃбаŃĐșа бŃла ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ заŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đč ĐșŃĐŸĐČĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐČЎаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ŃĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐČŃЎаĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃОлОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃала Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃĐ°ĐŒĐž ŃазŃДзала ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃлО. ĐĐœĐ° ŃбŃала ĐČŃŃ Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŃОД ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżŃаĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ńала лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаĐČ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ±ŃлО бŃŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃĐžĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃŃŃ Đ»Đž Ń ĐČĐ°Ń Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”ŃĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČŃДЎОлО лОŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃаŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Đ”Ń. «ĐДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐČалŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃпОла Đș ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Đ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ŃĐ°Đœ. ĐĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČОД ĐżŃДпаŃаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČŃ. ĐŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃОла. Đ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ Đž ŃŃпДŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐșĐž Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃŃ». «ĐŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·Ń», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ŃпалŃĐœŃ. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° пДŃĐČŃĐč ŃŃаж, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃŃĐ» ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «Я ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČŃОД ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ°ĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃ, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ ĐČŃŃĐžŃлОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČаŃĐ”Đč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč заŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, ŃŃажОĐČаŃŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ŃлабŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃŃ ĐœŃлО ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃĐŒ блДŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° пДŃĐ”ĐČŃĐ» ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșа. «ĐŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃŃŃĐŒŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: «Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ŃĐČŃзалŃŃ Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐĐžŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČŃЎаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃаŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃĐžĐČал ĐČаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ńа. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». «ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” пДŃĐ”ŃŃаŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐČДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč. Đа ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐžŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°Đœ ĐĐ»ŃŃ. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐĐ»ŃĐž Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ŃЎалŃĐč Đ±Đ°Ń "КаŃĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃĐ” ĐŃбаŃŃĐșаŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Đа, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐ»Ńб ŃŃал ĐžŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐžŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž Đ”ŃлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃĐŸŃŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐłĐŸÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ŃŃал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșŃаĐČŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐżŃŃĐșалŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃа: «ĐŃлО ĐČŃ ŃаŃŃĐșажДŃĐ” ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ, ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń ŃжаŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ», - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ĐŃлО ŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃаĐČĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃзаŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·Ń. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла: «Я ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃаĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐčĐŽŃ». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐžŃĐŸĐșОД плДŃĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ. «ĐŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃŃлО?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž бŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ Đ¶Đ” бŃла ĐČŃаŃĐŸĐŒ. «ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ŃĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃĐčŃĐ” ĐžŃ Ńаз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ŃŃбаŃĐșĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃажаŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла бŃŃŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșŃ Ń ŃаблДŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃбОĐș Ń ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃŃĐž лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČа». ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃал ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșазала Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃжД ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐșŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐČа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐČŃаŃа. «Я ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐŻĐœŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșŃ», - ŃĐșазал глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃĐżŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃла ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸ Ń ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃ ŃжД ŃĐ”ŃОлО ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОДĐč "ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ". ĐŃĐ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐĐžŃалОŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž Đž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃŃĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. «ĐĐŸŃ ĐșаĐș?» «Đа, Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃаĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸŃДл ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃЎДлŃлаŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃĐžĐșĐ”. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃŃалŃĐœŃŃ . «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃДбД, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃаОĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČа ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃŃĐžŃŃĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. «ĐĐœĐ” Đ”ŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ», - ŃĐŒĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń ŃĐœŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžŃ, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŒŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐČ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ , ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ плŃŃ ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐ». ĐĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃла ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŽŃаĐČŃŃĐČŃĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ. - ĐąŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐłĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ĐĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒĐž ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐČ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐž бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž ŃĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž ŃĐŸ жД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐŸĐč Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃДД ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃДЎŃ, ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃĐžŃала ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž бŃла ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž бŃлО абŃĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ лаЎОлО. «Đ, ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, - ŃĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃглŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ-ŃĐŸ ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - ĐĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”-ŃĐŸ Ń Ń ĐŸŃДла Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐșаŃŃĐžĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃО», - ŃĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ŃаĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ŃаĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ŃĐČŃзалаŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃЎалОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœŃ. «йŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃала, Ўа? ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃâŠÂ» «ĐŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșД», - пДŃДбОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Đ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃĐșазала Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «РДŃŃ, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ” ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ ĐČŃŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалŃ, Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŻĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșажŃ». Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃалĐșĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃДзĐČŃŃаĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. Đа ŃĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐŸŃОО Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла ĐżŃОпаŃĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸŃĐŸŃ. «ĐŃ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, пДŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃлОŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃОЎДл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșŃ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČŃаŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč лДŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃ. Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ŃŃĐ”ĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐŸĐČĐž Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлОŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлŃŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ” Đ”Ń?» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ заблДŃŃДл ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃŃŃĐČа. «ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃŃŃĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃД». ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃпаŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДŃОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ? «ĐŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŽŃба?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃОла ЎаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ? «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, пДŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Hello reading | 0 | 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=238502339210583&rawadid=120213195210770476 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465678132_903433578061719_5995145362699941089_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UJ_4Y4xIMqQQ7kNvgGErsBy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7H2JowJgk88M6R0wzd6Hj4&oh=00_AYCwkyRjEzVw6oieT3mStYardbhkvYGc5-arXrZiJwlX0Q&oe=6745C568 | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 Lottieâs POV "So, who is coming tomorrow?" I asked my best friend Lilly, who was twirling in the mirror, the expensive satin of her wedding dress swishing around her ankles. Tomorrow was her big day, and ever the perfectionist, she just had to check everything still fit perfectly. "Umm, the usual: our pack, Daddy's business partner, bordering packs, and their alphas. It's only a small gathering." She mumbled, brushing her hands over her tiny waist. "Small." I nodded sarcastically; we clearly had a very different understanding of what small meant, but as the daughter of the ruthless Alpha of the Crimson Moon packs, I guess this was small. "You know your mating ceremony will be just like this!" Sage chuckled, watching Lilly through my eyes. "Not a chance!" I barked, looking over at Lilly and her lavish dress, fake lashes and tan. I loved her and her confidence, but I was definitely more subtle than Lilly, never one to bask in the limelight but hide in the back! So this sort of opulence wasn't for me. "Your dad and Alpha Leigh won't accept any less than an extravagant ceremony! You are screwed, as they won't allow you a low-key event! You are the Beta's daughter. You must represent the pack; you know Mike will want all this too! Frills and all!" Sage teased, making me groa-n, shutting her out. I looked at Lilly warmly, smiling at her; she was truly beautiful! "You look beautiful, Lilly, very skinny," I added, knowing it was what she wanted to hear, but the truth was she did! She was the kind of girl that would look beautiful in a garbage bag. âYou think? â her li-p twisted into a smile, I knew she was satisfied with my answer. âYes!â I stated firmly. Clapping giddily, she gasped, running to the dressing table; she returned with a box, placing it in my lap. "I got you a gift to thank you; I know I have been a bridzillar the last few months preparing for the wedding." Taken back, I glanced between her and the beautifully box in my lap. I look at her, remembering why I love her so much! She may be spoiled, a danmed princess and an insane drama queen, but she never ceased to make me feel special and appreciated! "You shouldn't have." A polite smile painted my li-ps. "Go try it on; Mike will die when he sees you in it!" She laughed, pulling me to my feet, nodding for me to open the box. Rolling her eyes, she ushered me into one of the fitting rooms to try it on. "Wait, what?" I asked nervously as she pushed me into the fitting room, winking at me as she closed the door. "Lilly, what have you done?" I asked, but curiosity was getting the better of me. "You will thank me later when he can't keep his hands off you!" She laughed. Biting my li-p, I pulled the ribbon, svcking in a breath, seeing the racy lingerie staring back at me challengingly, silently daring me to be bold. "Oh, My God!" I moaned, shaking my head! "I can't wear this!" I laughed, feeling the blush spread across my cheeks. Fifteen minutes later, I stood up on the podium, Lilly staring at me proudly. "Fck! I'd totally do you if I weren't getting married tomorrow!" Lilly winked, circling me. "I don't understand why you don't see how hot you are!" She groa-ned. Looking in the mirror finally, I svcked in a breath; my slim figure was encased in an icy blue crot-chless cami suspender set that left nothing to the imagination. A lace embroidered halter neck with mesh panels barely covering my booobs ran down my body in a slim V. "Seriously, it's like wearing a piece of dental floss!" I shouted, ignoring Lilly's giggles. "No pain, no gain, Lottie! Go, show Mike!"she grinned knowingly. "You can tell me all about it later!" She giggled mischievously. With a final look in the mirror, I admitted she was right. It did look good! Sexy even! Rolling my li-p between my teeth, I blushed, deciding to take her advice; Mike and I had not had much alone time lately; he was always working, Alpha Leigh had been keeping him busy with safety preparations for tomorrow. "Well, this was an excellent way to get his attention." My wolf Sage cackled as I slipped my dress over Lillyâs gift. Getting to the apartment I shared with Mike didn't take long; my father had insisted we stay close to the pack house; being the Crimson Moons beta, he, like Lilly, was used to getting his way. Seizing my keys from my bag, I froze, hearing the muffled sound of talking from behind our apartment door. Mike was home! "Is he watching por-n?" My wolf Sage laughed, hearing the barely audible moans from within the apartment walls. Concentrating on the sounds coming from the other side of the door, I laughed, hearing the distinct sound of mattress springs, breathy moans and... "Mike ! Don't stop! Oh my god, Mike harder!" A female panted as the familiar sound of a headboard pounding a wall fluttered up to my ears. MY headboard! Swallowing the bile that assaulted my throat, I quietly walked into the apartment, numbly stumbling to our bedroom; the closer I got, the more I understood. "As you wish, baby girl!" MY boyfriend moaned as the squeaking got quicker, more desperate. "The fvck you are!" I roared, opening the door with a bang. "Shiiit!" Mikeâs panicked voice spluttered as I flicked the light on. "Hey honey, I'm home!" I mocked, locking eyes with the guy I loved, who was balls deep in a female... a female who wasn't me! Chapter 2 "I didn't think you would be back till later?" Mike dares to say, looking at me like I had grown two heads and was somehow in the wrong. "Clearly!" I mutter, walking over to the closet, grabbing my overnight bag and aggressively shoving things into it. "Baby girl...Come on..." He has the audacity to sound hurt; glancing into the mirror, I lock my eyes on him. "I am sorry, who are you talking to ... Me? Or Her?" Seeing the puzzled look on his face, I continued. "Just two seconds ago, I heard you call her 'baby girl'." I spat, knowing I was being petty over the pet name, but given that I had just walked in on him banging some chick in our bed, I felt I had earned the right to be a little childish! "No, you are mistaken." He shakes off. Spinning around, I glare at him. Is he seriously trying to make ME feel like I am going insane! "As you wish, BABY GIRL!" I yelled, repeating what I had heard him say not two minutes ago, to the who-re in his bed... Our bed! "It's not what it looks like, I promise." "Oh?" I roll my blue eyes and look at the she-wolf pulling the sheet around herself sheepishly. "Did he slip and accidentally land in your vargina?" Seeing her try to slip from the bed, I shook my head. "Stay! He is ALL yours!" I dismissed, returning to throwing the first things I could grab into my travel bag. "Charlotte, come on." Mike pushed, getting from the bed. "Work has been tough lately, and well..." Before he finished the sentence, I knew he would make this my fault somehow, just like I knew I would punch him in the face in the next thirty seconds. "You have put a little weight on, and you never dress up for me anymore." His body was flush against my back. My body tightened at the irony, given the blue lace I had on under my dress, grabbing my make-up and ramming it brutally with my other things. Zipping my bag with shaky hands, I tried to remain calm as he continued. "You could try a little harder to entice me. I wouldn't have to look elsewhere then." Spinning around in his hold, I pulled my fist back and, with no warning, plunged it into his eye; satisfaction washed over me hearing the fragile bone in his nose break, blood splattered my dress; looking down at it in astonishment, I laughed in disbelief. Mike's curses were barely audible over the sound of my blood rushing through my body. "Yeah, we are done." I declare my mind made up as Mike tried to pull my elbow. âBabygirl..." He uttered, regretting it the second my eyes glared with the cold blue of Sage, who seized control and, before I could gasp, had delivered her own source of justice. Knocking Mike out cold, his body hurtled back and dropped to the floor, his limp body resembling a pretzel all limbs and bruised ego. "When he wakes up, you tell him to stay away from Lottie!" Sage growled at the quivering she-wolf, who was nodding, frozen by fear. ******* "Another?" I requested, tapping the rim of my empty glass; the handsome bartender looked between Lilly and I, concern washing over his face. Apparently, our father's made him nervous. "I just caught my boyfriend shagging someone else; I think another drink is needed, don't you!" I asked, arching a brow, ignoring Lilly's sigh. Seeing him reluctantly fill my glass, a smirk pulled at the corners of my li-ps. I had spent the last few hours getting a little tipsy, dancing and trying to forget my heartbreak. But seeing Lilly look down at her phone with a frown, I knew the night was over. "Charlotte, I have to sleep." She only used my full name when she was trying to be serious, "I have to look my best tomorrow." She grinned, pulling me up from my chair. "Come on, let's go home." "I can't... I .. Can't go.. back there... HE.. is there!" I slurred, spinning around on wobbly legs; I eyed her helplessly, dramatically throwing my hands in the air. "Can I stay at yours, please!" Laughing, she nodded, pushing me towards the door. "Yeah, but I swear if you snore, I will kil-l you!" She laughed. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at the pack house. "I will grab water; you go on up!" She laughed, waving me up the stairs as she disappeared into the kitchen. I felt like it took forever to get to her bedroom; pushing the door open, I paused, looking around the room. "I don't think I have ever seen this room THIS tidy." I laughed, pulling my dress over my head. I threw my dress aside, picking up a photo frame with a picture of Lilly's older brother standing proudly with his arm around his dad, smiling into the camera, without a care. It was his graduation day. I remember it well. He made me call him master all day. "Jackass!" I cursed, turning the frame around, not wanting his eyes on me while I slept, or at all! "Looks like this lingerie will be getting some action tonight!" I laughed bitterly while looking in the full-length mirror, thinking about how different this night could have been. Mike's cruel words about my weight were eating at what little confidence I had. Lilly's brothers had made my life hel-l growing up until they left for training a few years back, so I was used to being the but of jokes, taunted and teased, but coming from Mike, it hurt. Svcking in a breath, I froze, the sound of running water finally hitting my ears. I had left Lilly downstairs, had she slipped in while I walked around her room? Pushing the door to the ensuite open, I froze, my feet rooted to the spot; through the glass panel of the shower, Lilly's brother stood, hand pressed up against the marbled tiled wall, his knuckles turning white from the pressure, his body ripped with even more muscles then he left with. Tattoos wound the whole of his body, trailing my eyes across them giddily; I tensed seeing his tattooed hand gripping his thick steeled rod, easily 9 inches of heaven. My eyes locked on his diick as he pumped his hand around it, pleasuring himself in what I knew was meant to be a private moment. "Either join me or get out!" He rasped, looking over his shoulders at me; the second our eyes met, I felt like I had been punched, knocking me to my knees, the floor disappearing from under me; somewhere in the distance, I heard Knox's panicked scream, it was genuine concern, not laughter, I was hearing from him. Why? Confusion bled through me wildly, just before everything went black. Chapter 3 Distant memories of the annual pack ball danced across my vision; Lilly and I were expected to go as we had come of age; we had both expected the twins to try to sabotage the whole evening! But they hadn't! Lilly and I had assumed it was because our fathers had insisted we attend, and they outranked the twins! Something we knew grated on the boys! The guy I had been crushing on at school had asked me to be his date; I was beyond excited! I had gone all out and had my hair, nails and make-up done. I had worked overtime to save up for a dress, I had spent a small fortune, and for once, I felt beautiful! He treated me like royalty, something I was not used to, given how the twins liked to control everything Lilly I did behind the walls of the pack house, but the twins had not said anything about me going with the young male wolf; I thought they had finally allowed me some freedom. We danced and laughed, and I thought he would kiss me! I never wanted the night to end; it had been perfect until I found the twins laughing about how desperate and pathetic I was and how they couldn't believe I had actually thought HE would like ME! Unable to watch anymore, I turned to leave only to see other classmates recording me, laughing at me and my tears. It didn't take long for it to be uploaded to social media and sent around school, making me a laughingstock! I had never understood why they were so obsessed with what I did! I got that they protected Lilly, but I was not kin! And this behavior was unwarranted! I tried to speak to my father about it, but since my mother had died, he had checked out, leaving Luna Louise to raise me; his only care was the pack and keeping it safe! And I could hardly go to her and moan that her precious sons were making my life hel-l! So I had no choice but to put up and shut up! Only when they left at 16 did things get easier; I finally knew peace, friendship, and fun! And somewhere in between, I met Mike. Opening my eyes slowly, the memories faded only to be replaced by the concerned face of Knox, staring down at me with such warmth my stomach flipped. His fingers traced my cheek as relief spread over his features. "Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me!" I seethed, slapping it away aggressively, my eyes narrowing on the ice blue hues of Knox, forcing myself to ignore the flicker of hurt that slipped across his face. "Hush, baby, let me check you over. You hit your head hard." He cooed, and my eyes widened in disbelief at the sincerity in his tone. "Get your STI-riddled hand off of me before I break it the fck off!" Snapping my mouth closed, feeling the light touch of his fingers on my li-ps. "You have a filthy mouth, do you know that!" His brows knitted together as he looked my face over, his gaze locking on my li-ps, making me uncomfortable. "I should teach you a lesson!" He mused a smirk split his face, seeing the shock wash over mine. "You're disgusting!" I spat, pushing myself up, looking around confused, seeing I was not on the floor but instead laid out carefully on the bed, Knox beside me. He had apparently swept me up and taken care of me, but I could not think why for the life of me. Shoving him aside, I attempted to climb over him. But his hands gripped my waist, locking me mid-stride over his torso. "I have to admit, you have changed a lot!" A grin slowly slipped across his face, his fingers trailing up the soft fabric of my new lingerie. Lingerie meant for Mike. "Not the whiny brat I left behind, huh" Shoving his che-st hard, framing my face in a wall of glowing white. I didn't want to admit that he had changed, too; he had grown into a gorgeous male. "And buffed up!" Sage added to my inner thoughts, bringing me back to reality. Ignoring her lude comment with a groa-n, my hands covered his that were rubbing up my sides. "Seriously, stop touching me!" Pushing his hands off me with a snort, "Dicck!" I grunted. "Hmmm, yeah, I have one... wanna see?" He taunted, his hands returning to my waist with supernatural speed. "YES, I wanna see!" Sage purred excitedly. "Seriously! Do you remember all the shiit he put us through" I snapped, trying to pull away from his grasp. "God's", A gasp escaped my li-ps, feeling his solid length rub against my core. "Crotc-hless!" He smirked up at me. "Not so innocent, it seems!" "UGH!" I growled, trying to lift off of him, but he forced me along him again, making me cry out as my pusssy clenched needily, loving the sensation of pain mixing with pleasure. "Let me make this crystal clear for you, Knox! I do not want you!" "Really? Sage seems game!" He grinned slyly. "She's a sluut!" I announced, angry at Sage's betrayal! "Mmm, My sluut?" He beamed, his hands sliding up my back;his solid length was millimeters from my core, but he was waiting for me to give him the green light. "Beg me, Knox!" I challenged! Chapter 4 "Beg?" He scoffed, eyes narrowing on me; I could see the inner fight between Knox and his wolf. He was a son of an Alpha. He had probably never begged for anything, let alone a female! But if he wanted me like he claimed to, he would beg! "Yes, Beg! Or let go of me." I declared with a newfound boldness. I was so over being weak and vulnerable, done being pushed around by those around me, and that included Mike and the danm twins! His hands released my hi-ps. Evidently, he refused to dance to my tune. "You are so danm perfect, but I won't beg!" He maintained. For once, he looked weak! The desire in his gaze filled me with a new sense of power; it had been such a long time since I felt this heat, and it was scrambling my brain. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it!" I laughed, rising onto my knees, an idea quickly springing to my mind. Years I had put up with his taunts, teasing and humiliation. It was time to return that favor. "Do it, I dare ya!" Sage encouraged. I slipped the straps off my shoulders, letting the delicate lace slide down, my booobs bouncing fre-e. "Please, Charlotte. Let me taste your pretty body; let me make you feel every inch the Queen you are!" Shiit! â I will beg too! Let him do it! Please!" Sage wailed in my head, but she needn't! I hated myself for it, but I wanted it. I wanted him, and given the look on his face, he bloody well knew it! Nodding, I watched as he did just that, his li-ps pressed to my body in turn. Gripping his hand in mine, I tutted at him; even when drowning in lust, I refused to let him take control of the situation! "Char??" I heard Lilly call from the hallway. "Where the fck did she go?" She moaned as she walked past Knox's room; the fact she didn't even think to check in here told me everything and brought me back to the startling realisation that I had fcked up! I was lying on my best friend's brother's bed, between his legs! "Get off!" I growled, pushing Knox off; my lust turned to hate quickly. "This shouldn't have happened!" I spat accusingly at him, but I knew I had been a willing participant, and if Lilly hadn't interrupted, I hate to think just how willing of a participant I would have been! "Come on, it's fine!" He laughed as I scrambled out from under him, pulling my straps back in place while searching for my dress and pulling it on. "Where is that blood from?" Knox growled, making me jump; looking down at my blood-stained dress, I frowned- I liked this dress! How had I not noticed Mike's blood all over it? "None of your danm business!" I huffed, grabbing my shoes and glaring at him one last time. "THIS never happened!" I snapped, slipping from the room as quietly as I can, tiptoeing down the hall to Lilly's room. Seeing she was still roaming the corridors looking for me, I took the opportunity to slip into the shower. Desperate to wash the embarrassment off me. "You smell of him... Of Knox!"Sage announced as she rubbed up against the walls of my mind. "What?" I gasped, inhaling sharply, hoping the smell of the shower gel would erase not just his smell but the memories too!However, all I could smell was the heavenly scent of Knox and his danm arousal! "Fck!" I cursed, scrubbing myself raw, until I heard Lilly return. "Where the fck have you been?" She snapped as she pulled herself up on the counter in the bathroom, watching me skeptically. Making a split-second decision, I decided to lie! "I got lost and ended up in your brother Knox's room! I didn't realize he was back!" I started sxcking down a breath, groa-ning, smelling Knox STILL. "A little heads up would have been good!" I moaned, giving her an irritated half-smile. "You thought they would miss my big day?" She laughed, rolling her eyes! "They got back this evening." "No shiiit!" I sighed, giving her a 'you think' look as I bull shited her with another lie; Sage and I were both disappointed at how easily the lie left my li-ps. Giggling with my best friend on the night of her mating ceremony should have been the highlight of my night, but instead, I was left with an uneasy feeling eating at my stomach, something telling me my life was about to get a he-ll of a lot more complicated! And there was nothing I could do about it! Chapter 5 "Get your lazy as-s up!" Lilly demanded, her shrill voice making me sigh; flopping onto my stomach, I pulled her pillow over my head, hoping to silence her. "No!" I grumbled, images of Knox and I last night still floating around my head, making my thi-ghs ache. "Char! Come on!" Lilly said, pulling the sheet off me; the cold air assaulting my body. "It's my big day! I need my best friend at my side!" She complained, but the edge to her tone told me she was not about to give up any time soon. "Fine! I am up!" I grumbled, throwing the pillow in the direction Lilly's voice came from while pulling myself up. Smelling strong coffee, I smiled sleepily over at Lilly, the last remnants of my dream and her sexy brother slowly fading from my mind as I took the coffee she handed me. "I can't get sick today, Char!" Lilly moaned, watching me as she handed me a mirror to show me how red-faced I was, dropping it on the bed, not needing to look to know I was blushing. "Charlotte! Are you ok? You're shaking?" Lilly inhaled, taking the coffee cup from my hands before I dropped it. Her hand pressed to my forehead sympathetically. "Charlotte?" "Do you think he will be as skilled with his tongue as you imagine him to be?" Sage added, making me blush further. "Enough!" I screamed at my wolf, cutting our link off so I could focus and calm my trembling hands and racing heart. The concern on Lilly's face startled me back to reality. "I am ok! Honestly!"I muttered, shaking my head at the images Sage had interjected into my mind on a loop. "I should tell her! In the 18 years we have been friends, I have never lied to her! I don't feel right doing so now!" I stated guiltily to Sage. It seemed since we left Knox's room, it was all she could think of! And a certain male's dicck in particular. Sxcking down my breath, seeing Lilly's frantic eyes searching my face needily. Today was her big day! She had been dreaming of this day for as long as I had known her, finding her mate, making it official and making her family and pack proud. I, on the other hand, needed more! I needed the rawest form of love, trust and security, all of which was something Knox could not offer me! The thought cemented what I already knew; It was a one-off! Sighing, I softened my features, ignoring the aching between my thi-ghs. "I think the last 24 hours have caught up with me, seeing Mike and that trollop in my bed! That's all!" I expressed lying to her face for the second time in a few hours. "I'm sorry, Char; he really is a piece of shiit! Want me to ask Knox and Kane to give him a good hiding." Shaking my head dramatically with a nervous laugh, I gripped her hands and pulled her onto the bed, ignoring her protests. "NO!" It's embarrassing enough that I caught them having sax in my bed; I don't want the whole pack talking about it." I sighed, grabbing the pillow and throwing it at her with an arched brow. "Hmmm, yeah, I understand that!" She chuckled, throwing the pillow back at me as she got back off the bed, holding her hand out to pull me up. "But if he becomes a bother! I will tell them! I know you think they don't care about you, Charlotte, but they see you as a little sister! They won't stand for his bullshiit!" She expressed, looking at me in the mirror as she fixed her hair. "Lord, I hope they don't see you as a sister! Not sure how I feel about ince-st!" Sage grunted, working her way through the barrier I had put up. "Although... I am up for calling Knox Daddy if you are?" She added with a wiggle. "Way to lower the tone, sage!" I huffed, ignoring her like before as I helped Lilly prepare for her big day! Two hours later, we were making our way through an empty pack house; Alpha Leigh had seen to it that no one would see his daughter until the ceremony, so not a single person remained in the pack house but Lilly and I. "Are you not nervous?" I asked; standing at the back doors, I squeezed her hand. "No, just excited!" She whispered, pushing the doors open to peek out at the beautifully decorated garden with its subtle nod to the pack's colours. "Wow, it's stunning." I gushed as the door heaved open, and Alpha Leigh stepped in, his eyes falling on his daughter and blurring with tears instantly in a way only a proud father could. "Told you, you looked beautiful!" I grinned, nudging Lilly's waist with mine seeing him try not to cry at the sight of his daughter in her ceremonial dress. "You like Daddy?" She screeched, turning slowly to show him what his money had brought. It was an exquisite dress, floor length, made with the softest of silk. "You look like a princess!" He gushed, straightening no doubt in an attempt to control his emotions; his eyes scanned me with a warm smile, looking at my dress with a chuckle. "I half expected you to turn up in yoga pants and a hoodie Charlotte!" He teased with an affectionate wink. He was right, of course; I lived in training and gym clothes. When your Father was the Beta, you tended to spend the majority of your time training. "Daddy!" Lilly scolded, "Don't encourage her! It took me weeks to bribe her into the dress!" She scoffed, giving me a firm stare. "Charlotte, can you excuse us a moment, I would like a minute with my baby before...." He whispered, his voice cutting off as his eyes locked on his daughter with such love. "She will always be your baby girl!" I whispered, leaning up on my tiptoes to press a soft kiss to my alphas cheek; he was like a second father to me and seeing him so overwhelmed at the sight of Lilly was very out of character for him, even behind closed doors he always seemed to favour the twins. Winking at my best friend before slipping out the doors and into a solid form and familiar scent, I groa-ned audibly; even Sage was finally waking up, sensing the danger. Chapter 6 "What are you doing here!" I questioned, trying to keep my tone neutral, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing my upset. Allowing my eyes to roam over a dark blue pin-stripped tailored suit that barely fit the muscular form of Mike. His dark eyes trained on me, his li-ps pulled into a scowl as he looked down my body. "Nice to see you too, baby girl!" He sighed, having just referred to Lilly as 'baby girl' to her father; hearing it slip from Mike's li-ps felt wrong, but I couldn't be bothered to argue with him about his pet name for me now, not when Alpha and Lilly are on the other side of the door. "Lottie?" He huffed, waiting for me to say something, but I had nothing to say, trying to hide his frustration by running a hand through his dark hair. "I missed you last night." He tried again, clearly trying to engage me in conversation. "I wish I could say the same!" I grunted, annoyed at myself for acknowledging him, I crossed my hands across my che-st. A part of me wished he would turn and leave me alone, go back to the she-wolf he had allowed to keep him company last night, but the stu-pid, naive part of me wanted to cling to him and ask him to fight for me! "Your father sent me to find you!" He grinned a pearly smile that had my stomach fluttering; I hadn't told my father about the breakup, so he meant well, I assured myself. "I can make my own way to the ceremony." I snapped, lowering my eyes from Mike's face; the displeasure washing across his face made me feel self-conscious enough. "Lottie!" He tried as I pulled my elbows closer, hugging them around myself, his cruel remark about my weight last night still raw, even if I hadn't let him know it had hurt me. "You took forever!" He stated. "Probably putting all that slap on your face!" Pulling on my elbow, he half dragged me down the beautifully styled pathway towards the old church grounds at the back of the property. "You're hurting me!" I winced, a burn rising to my cheeks at the mention of my make-up! "Yes!" He sneered, not even looking at me. "No! You look beautiful!" Sage interjected, lending me some of her strength to try and pull my arm back from his iron-tight grip. "You don't even have time to change! The guests have all arrived!" He grumbled, ignoring me and shoving me forward so hard I slipped on one of the petals lining the old cobbled path. "Fck sake, Lottie, you always have to show me up!" He hissed, looking down at me with contempt. "Get up then!" He snarled, his eyes lingering on the deep V neckline that barely held my booobs in place. Left speechless, I sat on the floor, looking up at my so-called mate, feeling the cold stone through the thin fabric. "I can't believe you, today is an important day for the pack, and you turn up dressed like... that! Representing me! Are you trying to destroy my reputation?" He snarled, shoving his hand out and grabbing my elbow again, yanking me up by it painfully and shoving me forward. "You look like a who=re!" He growled from behind me, shaking his head angrily; I could feel Sage's anger rising, and as much as I was grateful she had my back, now wasn't the time to cause a scene. It was Lilly's big day and an important day for the pack. "Well, you'd know all about whor-es!" I seethed quietly, spinning to face my so-called mate, "How many of them have you had in our bed?" I scoffed, looking at him with pity but unable to stop. "Tell me did they fake it like I did? They must have because there is no way your .. little.. friend could have satisfied them! Lord knows it never did me!" I blurted out angrily, narrowing my eyes at him challengingly. The darkening in his iris had my heart skipping a beat, and not for the right reason. He was angry! "That's your problem, Charlotte; you have never known your danm place." He grinned manically, taking a step toward me before I had a chance to react; he pulled me non to gently into an alcove of the garden, hidden by the white Jasmine vines. "But that's ok; I will teach you now!" He breathed into my ear as he slammed my che-st against the stone wall, knocking the air from my lungs and leaving me unable to cry out even if I wanted to. Gripping my hands again, he yanked them above my head, holding them together with one of his large hands. "I can smell your arousal!" He moaned into my ear huskily. Despite my compromising position, my body was throbbing, desperate for attention! I wanted to scream at Mike, to tell him the wetness between my thi-ghs wasn't for him but leftover remnants of my time with Knox last night. "I know that you, Lottie, will always be MY who-re!" Hearing the familiar sound of his zipper, I knew what was coming and as much as I hated to admit it! I wanted it! | LEARN_MORE | https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12849&u | Galaxy in the Story | https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ | 1,548 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | befant.com | IMAGE | https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12849&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/452565629_539244435092762_2338216418891431779_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KsqYWI-IyfcQ7kNvgH0YdXC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AJ8X3ONxY_vOf4UIUPiWLiE&oh=00_AYAmn1yQf3w7h9bkZQ7jSZlITyuifill10pvWdE8zU-6YQ&oe=6745B4A2 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Galaxy in the Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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â€ïžđ click to read on đ | Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husbandâs mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her motherâs life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husbandâs past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancĂ©e, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Rileyâs brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancĂ©e?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&u | Happyday | https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ | 1,406 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=z0wOOR6zWdwQ7kNvgE8vRZP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYAUDQViTuKuQkF9tLRyh2qmuxHIAndz3DOl7r0SBC-dwg&oe=67459AB4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Happyday | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,â a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,â a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! "It's time to end this!" | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 842 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463838510_3169305699879240_251659659452484488_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SMNAB_UdvI8Q7kNvgE0b6-d&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5jz7ZpxlbeEAcuB0df0uRZ&oh=00_AYAWlMNRQhHKvh6mduWILVm-83gaUZBzGlppy7Rcp1xyFg&oe=6745C1CA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapterđ | Because of cheating, he divorced her. She left a sentence, "You will regret it." 4 years later, he saw her on TV and introduced her as a top 100 female CEO and a single mother of triplets. The faces of her three children are exactly like his ... ============= Chapter 1 Ex-girlfriend Returns Raegan Hayes was a little absent-minded at the moment. All she could think of since this afternoon was the doctor's words. "Congratulations! You are going to be a mom." Suddenly, Mitchel Dixon pinched her arm. His low voice came the next second. "Come back to earth. What are you thinking about?" Mitchel was her husband. They had been married secretly for two years. He was her superior at work, the president of the Dixon Group. Everything had happened so fast. She was newly employed in the company when they unexpectedly got married. At that time, Mitchel's grandfather fell seriously ill. It was then he proposed a fake marriage just to fulfill his grandfather's dying wish. They signed a prenup, agreeing to hide their marriage from the public. Their union could be terminated at any time. It was an unconventional thing to do. However, Raegan only considered herself lucky at that time. Never in a million years did she think she would ever get married to the man she had a crush on for eight years. She delightfully agreed. After their marriage, Mitchel was very busy. He spent most of his time working. Raegan wished she could spend more time with him at home. However, she was rest assured because there hadn't been any rumors or scandals about him with women in the past two years. Except for his mild indifference, Mitchel was a perfect husband. Raegan had mixed feelings as she stared at the medical report. In the end, she decided to tell Mitchel this news. She also wanted to tell him that she hadn't learned about him for the first time two years ago and that she had been crushing on him for many years before then. Just then, Mitchelâs phone rang. He went to the balcony and answered the phone. Raegan checked the time and found that it was already midnight. She felt a little uneasy. Who would call Mitchel at this hour? Mitchel spent a few minutes on the balcony. Thereafter, he returned and changed into formal attire. His handsome face which had a clear outline made him look dignified. He was something to see now. "Don't wait up for me. Good night," he said finally. What? He was on his way out? At this hour? Raegan's grip on the report tightened as she stared at him in disappointment. Unconsciously, she withdrew slightly. After thinking for a while, she blurted out, "It's already so late." Mitchel's fingers froze on his tie. With a faint smile, he pinched her earlobe and said, "Be good, okay? There's something I have to do. Don't wait up." With that, he headed for the door. "Mitchel." Raegan quickly ran and caught up with him. Mitchel turned around and looked at her seriously. "What's the matter?" There was a tinge of coldness to his voice. An icy cloud hung over them as they stared at each other. A little distressed, Raegan asked in a low voice, "I would like to visit my grandma tomorrow. Can you accompany me there?" Her grandmother always wanted to see her. As a result, Raegan wanted to take Mitchel there to assure her grandma they were happy. "Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?" Without agreeing or declining, Mitchel left in a hurry. Several thoughts were threading Raegan's mind. She couldn't sleep a wink. After tossing and turning for a long time, she went to the kitchen and made herself a warm glass of milk. A few notifications from some online blogs came into her phone. However, she wasn't interested in them. She was about to swipe them away when one of them caught her attention. The familiar name made her click on it. The news read, "Famous designer, Lauren Murray was spotted at the airport with her mysterious boyfriend earlier today." Lauren was wearing a bucket hat. The man's figure was vague, but the outline of his body was enough to show that he was dashing. Raegan zoomed in on the picture. The next second, her heart dropped. Mitchel was the man in the picture! So, he canceled the afternoon meeting just to go pick up his ex-girlfriend from the airport? This realization settled like a boulder in Raegan's gut, rendering her flustered. Her hands trembled. Subconsciously, she dialed Mitchel's number. The dial tone brought her back to her senses. Just as she was about to hang up, the line connected, and a voice came from the other end. "Hello!" It was a particularly gentle woman's voice. Raegan froze for a second and then threw the phone away. She suddenly felt sick in her stomach. Covering her mouth, she ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet bowl. The next morning, Raegan went to work on time. Mitchel had tried to get her to stop working after they got married. Stubbornly, she insisted on making her own money. Mitchel didn't kick against her decision, but he asked her to work as his assistant, helping him with the daily chores. The head assistant, Matteo Jenkins was left to take care of the major affairs Mitchel had. Matteo was the only Dixon Group employee who knew about their marriage. Since inception, only male assistants were hired for the president's office. Reagan was the first and only female. Her employment broke the protocol. As a result, other workers couldn't help but wonder if she was involved with Mitchel. It took a while before they realized that Mitchel never gave Raegan special treatment. Strangely, this made them despise her even more. After all, no one would last long in anything while taking advantage of their looks. At this time, one of Raegan's colleagues handed her a document and ordered her to take it to Mitchel's office. Mitchel didn't return home last night. Raegan was so worried that she didn't sleep at all. All she kept thinking about was the woman who answered his phone when she called. What was her relationship with Mitchel? Raegan already knew the answer to that, but she was still in denial. It was difficult for her to come to terms with that fact. Raegan tried to remain calm now. She reasoned that no matter what happened, she deserved a result that would be rewarding for all the years she spent loving Mitchel. This couldn't be all for nothing, right? She pressed the elevator button calmly and went up to the president's office. Before she walked out of the elevator, she smoothed her hair to make sure she looked good. She had arrived at the office, only to see that the door was ajar. A man's voice came. She halted instantly. "Come on, man! Do you have any feelings for Raegan or not?" The voice belonged to Luis Stevens, a childhood friend of Mitchel's. "What do you mean exactly?" Mitchel asked in a cold voice. "You know exactly what I mean!" Luis clicked his tongue impatiently and added, "I think Raegan is a good girl. Isn't she your type?" "Do you want me to hand her over to you?" Mitchel asked carelessly. "You know what, forget it!" The scornful laughter of Luis sounded particularly harsh in Raegan's ears. They were talking about her as if she were an object. Raegan took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the document. Soon, Luis's voice was heard again. "By the way, I saw the gossip news about Lauren's mysterious boyfriend this morning. That was you, right?" "Yes." "Well, well, well! That woman still has you wrapped around her little finger. You always want to please her." Luis sighed and continued to tease Mitchel. "As the old saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Tell me, did you two..." Their conversation was like a thunder exploding over Raegan's head. Her face turned pale and her body was as cold as ice. The woman was indeed Lauren! Absence made the heart grow fonder! Every word drove a knife into her heart. Several whispering voices filled her head at this time. She suddenly felt light-headed. Her vision became blurry. She held the wall and took a step backward. Suddenly, the door was opened from inside. "Raegan?" Chapter 2 One-sided Love Luis was the one who opened the door. It appeared he was on his way out. Raegan balled her hands, turned to him, and nodded. "Hey, Mr. Stevens!" Without waiting for him to respond to her greeting, she walked past him and entered the office with the document. Mitchel was seated behind a large luxurious desk. In an expensive suit and matching tie, he looked particularly handsome. Raegan noticed it wasn't the same suit he had on when he left home last night. How did he get changed? With her eyes lowered, she swallowed that question and said instead, "Mr. Dixon, this is from the Marketing Department. Please sign it." Mitchel was expressionless as he signed the document at a glance. Raegan walked out the door as soon as he handed the document back to her. Luis was still standing at the threshold. It wasn't until she went out of sight that Luis turned to Mitchel and said in a hushed tone, "Do you think she heard us?" Mitchel's appealing eyes were expressionless at the moment. Obviously, he wasn't paying attention to what Luis was saying. To Mitchel, Raegan had always been docile and never felt jealous of anyone. Her strict obedience was all Mitchel demanded from her in exchange for treating her well. In the elevator. Raegan held her breath just to hold back her tears. Unfortunately, it didn't work. She had thought two years would be enough for Mitchel to realize how much she loved him and reciprocate her love. Now, it turned out that was just a pipe dream. She realized she would always play second fiddle to Lauren, Mitchel's true love. Reagan wiped her tears when the elevator halted. Save for her pale face, she looked normal when the doors opened. She dragged herself to the break room, intending to make herself a cup of tea. Several employees were chatting inside. "Guys, have you heard? Lauren Murray is back." "And who is that?" "Oh, my! You don't know her? Lauren is the heiress of the Murray Group as well as a world-class designer. Most importantly, she's the only girlfriend Mr. Dixon has ever shown off in public. She's his first love!" "Why is her return such a big deal? Isn't it rumored that there is something between Mr. Dixon and Raegan?" "Raegan? She's nothing to Mr. Dixon. Mr. Dixon never admitted that he was dating her. And that is no surprise to me. After all, look at her. She's not even that beautiful. Yet, she behaves as if she's already Mrs. Dixon. What a fool!" Standing at the door, Raegan smiled with self-mockery as she listened to them. It turned out everyone else saw the truth except her. The love was one-sided. "Ha-ha, have you finally woken up from your wild dream, Raegan?" A voice of mockery suddenly came from behind. Raegan turned around to see Tessa Lloyd, Mitchel's cousin, who had always despised her. Tessa must have also heard the employees gossiping. The last thing Raegan wanted to do now was argue with Tessa in the company. She turned to leave, but Tessa blocked her way. With a cup of coffee in her hand, Tessa uttered sarcastically, "Lauren is back now. Do you think Mitchel will still give you any attention?" Raegan said nothing to that. Seconds later, Tessa continued the ridicule. "Maybe itâs time for you to seek out another man, you pathetic fool." Raegan clenched her fists and said coldly, "Ms. Lloyd, if you are interested in that kind of thing, feel free to pursue it yourself." "You..." Raegan's retort made Tessa's face change. The next second, Tessa raised her hand and emptied the cup of coffee on Raegan. Raegan didn't think for a second that Tessa would do something so crazy. She held up her arms just to block the liquid from her face. In no time, the coffee drenched her clothes. Raegan frowned. "What did you do that for? Are you out of your mind?" It was lunch break and many employees were free to watch the drama. Tessa was even more complacent when she saw growing onlookers. She put on a mean-girl look as she said, "What makes you so smug every day, huh? Do you seriously think that others don't know you are just an orphan? The nerve of..." Tessa was silenced by Raeganâs shove. Her jaw dropped to the floor. She had never expected that Raegan, who was so quiet and timid, would shove her. Tessa stuttered, "You... You pushed me? How dare you!" Raegan eyed her and replied, "Yes, I did! It seems you need to be taught simple politeness." Indeed, she lost her parents when she was a child. But that didn't mean she would allow someone to walk over her for it. Wrinkles appeared on Tessa's face as she frowned in anger. As Mitchel's cousin, she was used to being fawned over and respected. This was the first time she had been treated like this. Tessa charged at Raegan like a raging bull, poised to retaliate. This time, Raegan was fully prepared for what was coming. She grabbed Tessa's wrist so that the latter couldn't move another inch. Tessa was shorter than Raegan. As a result, she struggled like an octopus that had one of its tentacles stuck in a fishing trap. Tessa cursed angrily, "How dare you put your hands on me? Who do you think you are?" These harsh words attracted more people to the break room. "That's enough!" Out of the blue, a baritone came from behind. Mitchel had left his office and ran into this hullabaloo. The entire room fell silent. "Mitchel?" Tessa's blood ran cold at the sight of Mitchel. She had always been scared of him. Her mother also warned her against provoking him. But when she remembered that Raegan humiliated her, she put on a pitiful expression and sobbed. "Mitchel, she bullied me." The sunlight from outside fell on Mitchel's handsome face. Raegan felt so grieved all of a sudden, and lowered her head to look at her clothes which were soaked with coffee. Their gaze met in the air. With a deep frown, Mitchel looked at Raegan and said, "Raegan, have you forgotten the rules of the company?" His ruthlessness made Raegan's breathing cease. She couldn't believe her ears. No one dared to make a sound at this moment. Raegan just stood straight there with her slender figure. When she got employed here, Mitchel had told her that the Dixon Group wasn't a place for her to mess around and that he would not tolerate her making any mistakes. Raegan could understand why he took this stand. However, at this moment, she was desperate to know whether Mitchel had heard those hard words Tessa scolded her or he was just pretending not to have heard because he agreed to those words. Was she truly insignificant to him? Scared to death by Mitchel's rage, the crowd soon dispersed. A few employees were bold enough to peep from a distance, unwilling to miss the good show. Mitchel's cold eyes made Raegan shiver from head to toe. Raegan pinched her palm to suppress her emotions as she looked at Tessa. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lloyd. As an employee of the Dixon Group, it was wrong of me to have offended you." Eyeing Raegan, Tessa raised her chin complacently. "Humph! Don't think you'll be let off the hook just by making a simple apology. I don't buy..." "The offence has nothing to do with the company. Personally, I refuse to apologize to you. Now, if you'd excuse me," Raegan chimed in. She then walked past Mitchel without sparing him another look. "You..." Tessa's face turned blue after hearing what Raegan said. Never in her years of being alive had she been so humiliated. She was always the bully, not the victim! The humiliation was so much that scolding Raegan wouldn't appease her anger. Pointing in Raegan's direction, Tessa shouted, "Mitchel, did you hear what that woman just said? She humiliated me, yet she's still so arrogant. Call her back. I have to teach her some manners!" Mitchel, staring at Raegan's thin back, had an ambiguous expression at this moment. "Enough!" he said coldly, raising his hand. As someone who lived and breathed drama and cruelty, Tessa didn't think Mitchel was partial to Raegan just now. She assumed that Mitchel didn't care about Raegan at all. Tessa gritted her teeth and said viciously, "Next time, I'll get someone to teach her a lesson." "Tessa!" Mitchel's tone and squint made it a reproof. Tessa trembled at once. With a somber face, Mitchel said, "I'll only say it once. Forget about what happened here today. Leave Raegan alone." The aura he exuded made her tongue go dry. All the vicious ideas she had in store against Raegan disappeared in an instant. She stammered, "Ok... Okay, got it..." Mitchel cast a cold glance at her and spoke to Matteo. "Irrelevant people wouldn't be allowed in here from today onwards." Without catching the drift, Tessa flattered Mitchel. "Nice call. This is a top company. Not everyone gains access in here." Matteo nodded to Mitchel and then walked over to Tessa. He gestured to the exit. "Ms. Lloyd, this way, please." It wasn't until this moment that Tessa realized that she was the irrelevant person Mitchel just mentioned. She tried to speak to him, but Matteo blocked her way. The security guards then escorted her out. They showed her no mercy. Her struggle was useless. Meanwhile, Raegan got changed when she returned to her office. Her heart was filled with sadness as she thought of how Mitchel looked at her minutes ago. Closing hour soon rolled by. Raegan took her bag and headed for the exit. However, Matteo stopped her. He said, "Mr. Dixon has something urgent to deal with, so he asked me to drive you home." Raegan declined the ride without thinking twice. She was blind before, but now she could see through the situation. In Mitchel's eyes, she was just a nobody. How could Mitchel agree to accompany her to visit her grandmother when he didn't even care about her? Upon arriving at the hospital, Raegan saw that the nurse was about to feed her grandmother dinner. Raegan took the job over and did it by herself. All her life, her grandmother had been living in the countryside, enjoying a quiet life. Everything changed last month when her routine medical checkup showed that she was in need of medical care. Raegan insisted on bringing her to the city for better treatment. Her grandmother wasn't aware of her marriage to Mitchel. Raegan had planned to surprise her today. But as it turned out, that was no longer necessary. Raegan waited for her grandmother to fall asleep before she left. She walked out of the hospital and waited for a taxi. In the distance, a black luxury car pulled into the entrance of the hospital. Raegan's eyes lit up when she saw it. She recognized that car as Mitchel's. Did he come to pick her up? At this moment, she forgot all the pain she had been feeling. Were her thoughts about him all wrong? Did he care for her, contrary to the gossip? The door of the driver's side opened and Mitchel got out. Raegan started walking toward him with her heart brimming with joy. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Mitchel had just walked over to the other side and carried a woman out of the car. Worry and compassion were written all over his handsome face. This wiped the smile on Raegan's face. Her heart sank. Chapter 3 Let's Divorce Mitchel's tall and straight figure got closer and closer to Raegan. And then, without saying a word, he strode past Raegan. It was hard to tell if Mitchel saw Raegan or just ignored her. Regardless, Raegan noticed that the woman in his arms was the same one who had been photographed with him yesterday. She was Lauren. Raegan's shoes felt like they were made of lead as she walked away. She lost all awareness of her surroundings. She got into a taxi absentmindedly. Suddenly, the driver uttered, "Ma'am, where to?" Raegan was stunned for a moment. She didn't want to go back to Serenity Villas. It was only a matter of time before that place stopped being her home. After a while, she replied, "Please take me to Crystal Bay." She had purchased an apartment at Crystal Bay after getting married to Mitchel. At the time, she had hopes of bringing her grandmother to the city, so she bought the apartment on mortgage. It wasn't that big, but it had more than enough space for two people. Mitchel didn't understand why she wanted to buy an apartment. He offered to give her a bigger one, but she declined. Looking back now, she realized that buying that apartment was the only wise decision she had ever made in the last two years. When she arrived at the apartment complex, Raegan sat in the park alone, trying to cool herself down. The memories of the past two years were bittersweet. Two years had passed in the blink of an eye even though it was more than seven hundred days and nights. Love could move mountains, they said. Yet, her love didn't move that stone of a man. She finally realized what a fool she had been. She had been making herself a laughingstock in front of everyone. It was already late in the night before Raegan finally decided to go into her apartment. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she saw Mitchel standing in front of the door. His sleeves were rolled up casually, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, which revealed his long neck and part of his collarbone. He was leaning on the wall by the door, his handsome face straight. Raegan froze for a moment. Why was he here? Didn't she see him at the hospital with Lauren? What brought him here? Their eyes met. With his coat draped over his arm and one of his hands in his pocket, Mitchel squinted at her. "Why didn't you answer the phone?" he asked, sounding a little grumpy like someone who hadn't slept in a long time. Raegan took out her phone and saw she had accidentally put it on DND. There were five missed calls from Mitchel. This marked the first time in their two-year marriage. Mitchel blew up her phone because he couldn't find her? Surprising! Before today, she would have been overjoyed by this. People would've thought she won the lottery. But now, she just threw her phone back into her bag, folded her arms, and said in a hoarse voice, "I didn't hear it ring." Mitchel raised his hand to check the time on the watch, and said impatiently, "I've been looking for you for two hours." After arranging everything for Lauren, he returned home to find an empty house. He looked for Raegan everywhere. When he couldn't find her, he asked Matteo to check the surveillance footage of all the roads that led away from the company. He later found out that Raegan went to Crystal Bay without telling him. "Next time, tell me when you are coming here, okay? Let's go home now." After that, Mitchel walked toward the elevator without sparing her another glance. He meant to go back to Serenity Villas. Raegan didn't move an inch. She just stared at his broad back and pondered reluctantly. Would they have a future? Mitchell turned around, only to see that Raegan hadn't taken a single step. He frowned and asked, "Can't you walk? Do you want me to carry you instead?" The light in the corridor illuminated his face, making his side profile almost impeccable. Raegan took a deep breath and said, "Let's divorce." "What do you mean?" Mitchel's voice was cold, and his handsome face changed immediately. "I want to move into my own place. After all, we will be strangers soon." Raegan forced a smile, but her heart was aching as if someone was tearing it apart bit by bit. "We will be strangers?" Mitchel smiled coldly. "Raegan, what do you think our relationship is now?" His questioning left Raegan stunned for a moment. Mitchel had made it very clear to her from the very beginning. This facade of their marriage had happened by mutual agreement. There was no love. In the eyes of others, they were nothing more than just a superior and a subordinate. Mitchel was quite the catch in Ardlens. Many young ladies longed for his love and were even willing to throw themselves at him. His question just now reminded her of that fact. Was he afraid that she wouldn't let him go that easily? If that was the case, he couldn't be more wrong... After biting her lower lip to conceal her bitterness, Raegan said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon. I was giving it too much thought. Anyway, please leave me alone from now on. You don't have to come here again." After saying that, Raegan couldn't help but burst into tears. How could she not be sad when she was cutting ties with the man she had loved for a decade? It was such a long time. Regardless of how difficult it was, she knew it was time to let go. It was high time she stopped being a fool. Strangely, the light in the corridor began flickering. The deathly stare Mitchel was giving Raegan right now made the atmosphere seem like the moment before an attack in a horror movie. Although he understood that Raegan sometimes could throw a tantrum, he felt that she had just crossed the line now. His eyes shone like blazing torches at this moment. But when he saw the tears in her eyes, the rage inside him extinguished in an instant. He said in a low voice, "If this is about what happened between you and Tessa, I..." "No, this isn't about her. Mr. Dixon, please leave now." A lot of things happened between them. And the incident with Tessa didn't come close to any. Raegan felt exhausted. She passed by Mitchel and was about to open the door. Yet, Mitchel was displeased with her stubbornness. He loosened his tie irritably. He then took a step forward and grabbed her wrist. "Stop this, will you?" A second later, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his arms. He instantly realized that she was burning up like someone who had been set on fire. "You have a fever?" Raegan felt dizzy. She rested her head on his chest weakly. This made the whole situation complicated. Reagan was slow to catch that. When she finally realized that her body was too close to his, she put her hands against his chest and tried to pull back. Before she could escape, Mitchel pulled her back and held her by the waist. With a cold face, he said in a low voice, "Where do you think you are going?" The light flickered again. Out of the blue, Mitchel lifted her up. He then headed for the elevator. In a daze, Raegan asked softly, "What are you doing?" "What does it look like I am doing?" Mitchel remarked. "Taking you to the hospital, of course." "No way!" Raegan cried out in surprise and seemed to regain more strength. Mitchel might find out about her condition if they went to the hospital. Raegan struggled to get out of Mitchel's arms. However, his tight grip made her efforts fruitless. "Don't be so stubborn. You are sick, so you must see the doctor," Mitchel said firmly. He walked to the elevator with her in his arms. At this moment, Raegan's heart was thumping so hard that it could jump out of her chest. She flailed in protest. "Put me down! I don't want to go to the hospital!" &40& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/46526322-fb_contact-e | Lera reading | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/46526322-fb_contact-enj57-1125-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=791750052879575&rawadid=120214104607990758 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466000453_444169215366365_7369362198232158879_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zHCkTVY6bcsQ7kNvgHHQf7w&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=At2EQIex-FBvciRc4csE8By&oh=00_AYDjFKMcq0aPwjOnZMGpO2zg-rqrUi_iOt7lrFCiMAfbKA&oe=6745B08A | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrettâs victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." âOh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 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/t39.35426-6/464213855_1239677610584138_6061898124323659690_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mcUAgbrWFOwQ7kNvgE3TIyL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYA0iiy4ouEzG8stepo02ZCcw5fR-UWFdfV9VsMWB0d2Vg&oe=6745C9F1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Vuelve conmigo, amor mĂo | Durante tres años, hizo todo lo posible por complacer a su marido, pero Ă©l la torturĂł con locura, creyendo que en el pasado ella lo habĂa seducido deliberadamente y lo habĂa separado del amor verdadero. Ya no queriendo sacrificarse sola, se fue desesperada, mientras el hombre se volvĂa loco. ===== 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? Ăl 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 compañĂa 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 matrimonioâŠ". 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) &4& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa | Heat stories | https://www.facebook.com/61563777993401/ | 317 | 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=1164004058227180&rawadid=120213758131090186 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464571520_1260932238687112_8188013112632210484_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=S9cge0hWBDAQ7kNvgG7GFZg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=At2EQIex-FBvciRc4csE8By&oh=00_AYDFznKQglv1DkQEFSuJinQKSkUBM8qkIaKVsDTNiUAKJg&oe=6745CC59 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/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/t39.35426-6/461342866_403665495877678_8039372569247806790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pi5R4WJUIpIQ7kNvgEzCJgZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUgm1eHH88bIH1GPnxL_uvb&oh=00_AYCziqgVwSsEtkSI1je0xlNeCG5D80Nh619118VtCqXg6g&oe=6745A035 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | It had been three years of marriage. Justine Thorpe finally found her husband, Ash Vanderbilt, in the OB-GYN clinic of a hospital. He hadn't shown up for three months. However, he was not alone. Another womanâhis mistressâwas with him. She bore more than a passing resemblance to Justine. Her name was Jenny Thorpe, and she had been living as Justine's replacement in the Thorpe family for 16 years. Justine had suspected her husband of having an affair for at least six months, but she never imagined it would be with Jenny. Not that the revelation was entirely surprising, now that she thought about it. Everyone in Sol's upper class knew that Ash's true love had always been his childhood friend. Justine was the devil who had gotten in the way. Seeing Ash and Jenny together somehow relieved Justine. The mystery was finally solved. She watched them enter the elevator. Ash's delicate eyelashes were lowered as he spoke softly to his companion. Justine had never seen him this gentle before. Jenny was grazing her slightly protruding belly, nodding bashfully. Justine and Jenny closely resembled each other, yet Justine could never mimic the seductive femininity that Jenny exuded. Suddenly, Jenny lifted her head and met Justine's gaze before ducking into Ash's arms as if frightened. "Ashie!" she mumbled. Just as always, Jenny was putting on a show again. Ash looked up with a glare. His eyes met Justine's, and the gentleness on his face dissipated, replaced by that all-too-familiar apathy and annoyance. Justine and Ash were married only because their parents had wanted them to be. She had lost her parents when she was three, though, and while she had been missing, Jenny had come out of nowhere and stolen Justine's identity. By the time Justine was finally found. Ash's mind had already been setâhe only cared for his "childhood friend". The seniors in the family had had to force him to take Justine's hand. Justine did not mind. The only thing she loved about Ash was his looks, but even that was beginning to wear thin. He seemed more and more like a stranger to her. - The elevator door shut. Justine thought their encounter was dramatic. Just imagine how much of a soap opera episode it would be like if she ran at Ash, slapped him, and then confronted Jenny! "Jean! When did you get here? I was just about to grab this medicine for you!" Justine turned to meet Iris Carr, her manager. She smiled and signed, "An expecting mother needed help." Iris studied her heart-stopping beauty and felt a pang in her heart. Justine was so gorgeous, kind, gentle, and an extraordinary dancer. She was a mute who outshone so many people Iris had known. She had even been the prima ballerina of a well-known ballet company, until⊠"Here. Your painkillers," Iris said, her eyes reddening slightly as she choked back a sob. "How could you just⊠injure your spine? You finally managed to become the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale! If you could just finish this tour, you could have..." Becoming the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale ballet company was the dream of countless dancers worldwide. And Justine had been considered after just one interviewâit was incredible! The tragedy weighed heavily on Iris. Justine had always been silent about her family matters, leading Iris to list her as orphaned on her resume, stating she had grown up in an orphanage. Over time, Iris had even come to believe it herself. The more she thought about it, the sadder she became. Justine smiled faintly, seemingly unaware of the sympathy in Iris' face, as she received the painkillers. A year ago, Ash's uncle had hired a hitman on his life. Justine's attempt to save him resulted in her spinal injury. Ash had found the best doctors money could buy and purchased expensive medical equipment for her. The medical team later concluded that her treatment was complete. Unfortunately, two months later, her old injury was aggravated while she was preparing for the tour. After another examination, Justine's career was essentially over. While the spinal injury wouldn't affect her daily life, she could no longer dance. Justine had informed Ash immediately, but he had yet to respond. Maybe he never cared. She had cried her heart out after returning from the hospital, but ultimately, she accepted her fate. This was not the end of the world. After some reflection, Justine decided to continue her tour. She would get treatment alongside it, determined to end her career as a ballet dancer on a high note. This evening's performance would be her last. However, that morning, she woke up to find her painkiller supply depleted. Justine squeezed the paper bag, her eyes feeling dry. It was as if she were a character in a soap opera. Meeting Ash and Jenny felt like a cruel joke. The pain in her spine flared slightly. Regret washed over her. If only she had never tried to save Ash. Instead, he survived long enough to become a villain, insulting the handsome face Justine once adored. She tucked the painkillers into her pocket and took out her phone. Her long lashes veiled the coldness in her eyes as she looked down at the screen. She then selected Ash's number, typed a message, and sent it immediately. - "Why was she in the OB-GYN, Ashie?" At the basement parking lot, Jenny subconsciously shielded her belly and added, "Could she be, you knowâŠ" "That's impossible," Ash replied firmly. Jenny looked away to hide her surprised glee. So Justine had never managed to sleep with him in all three years of marriage? Well, it wasn't that surprising. Everyone in Sol knew that, as a boy, Ash had almost been strangled to death by his mute and mentally ill mother. Traumatized, Ash harbored hatred for his birth motherâand for people who were mute like her. Thus, when his maternal grandparents forced him to marry Justine, it felt like a cruel joke aimed at Ash. There was no way he would ever sleep with her. Poor Justine! A laughingstock, was she not? So what if she was beautiful? What if she could perform some snobby, pretentious dance? Ash had still abandoned her. How could she ever compete with Jenny for Ash's heart? Jenny suppressed her glee and pretended to look sad. "Oh, Ashie⊠I bet the one person Justine hates the most is me. You are aware of what transpired. She nearly took my life when she returned to the Thorpes. And now she saw us at the OB-GYN," she said. "I should explain myself to her once I get back. I don't want her to throw another fitâ" "She won't," Ash interjected. Justine was his simp, always obeying his wishes. For years, there had been fabricated scandals circulating online about celebrities sleeping with him, yet Justine had never questioned him about any of it. She trusted himâlike a machine programmed to smile and serve him. "Don't overthink it, Jenny. She won't hurt you," he added. "I'll have someone escort you home safely." Jenny still looked like she was about to cry. She was on the verge of getting into Ash's car when she suddenly caught sight of Justine in the parking lot. Ash had assured her that everything would be fine, but what made him so certain? Jenny could never forget the day Justine chased her with a kitchen knife like a rabid dog. It was a true display of Justine's character. Did she really believe she could charm Ash into loving her by hiding her true nature? Did she think she could be Mrs. Vanderbilt forever? It was almost laughable. "Juju!" Jenny called out cheerfully. Justine had always hated that nickname and would go ballistic over it. What if she reacted that way again this time? Ash's expression darkened as he shot a brief glance at Justine, immediately noticing how thin she had become. Justine turned to them and nodded politely as if she had no idea who they were. She signed to the woman beside her, entered her ballet company's car, and drove away. Jenny gritted her teeth. She did not take the bait! She squeezed out some crocodile tears and grabbed Ash's sleeve. "Ashie, Ashie! Did you see that? She didn't even acknowledge us! This is all my fault! I shouldn't have come to you for help even if I have no one else to turn to⊠Because we were engaged before, so this had to look really bad⊠"Oh no, I'm the one who ruined your marriage! I should have just stayed with those guys!" she sobbed. Ash ignored her. He was fixated on what Justine had signed: "I don't know them. They mistook me for someone else." "Ashie, you gotta chase after her!" Jenny cried out as though she cared about preserving Ash and Justine's relationship. Ash was unfazed. He absent-mindedly glanced at the sleeve Jenny was grabbing and realized that Justine had bought this coat for him. She had won a ballet competition that day and used the prize money to purchase it, presenting it almost like a tribute. Ash yanked the sleeve away from Jenny. "I've told you. She won't mind." At that moment, his phone vibrated. Ash scanned the screen, and his eyes suddenly grew bitterly cold as the words leaped into view: [I want a divorce.] Chapter 2 At the Grand Theater of Sol. A towering man stood in the darkness where the audience gathered. He felt as cold as winter. His eyes were fixed on the stage as the Black Swan darted across it, agile and mesmerizing. The Black Swan's movements were fluid and firm, sensual and tempting. The man almost wished he could possess her right now. The performance was nearing its end, so the man turned away and strode toward the backstage. - The performance ended. Justine felt a quiet pain in her waist, but she gritted her teeth through the production. The crowd erupted in ovation. She took one last yearning glance at the stage and her adoring audience before returning backstage. Iris had been watching her every move with concern. "Is it hurting? I can cancel the fan meeting and photo session if you need it. You can rest in the breakroom, and once the rest of the performance is over, I'll come for you," Iris suggested. Justine waved reassuringly. Many of these fans had traveled all the way to Sol to see her performanceâto meet her. How could she let them down? Soon, the photo session concluded. After checking in with Justine, Iris left to direct the stage. Suddenly, Justine found herself alone. She looked around as memories flooded back. Ballet had been a part of her for as long as she could remember. Concerned that Justine's disability might hinder her job prospects, the orphanage's director had signed her up for ballet classes after discovering her talent, despite the lack of funding from the orphanage. All that hard work and dedication was gone like the wind because of her career-ending injury. How could anyone not feel regret? Justine removed her makeup and pressed her hand against her waist, trying to support it as she tiredly headed to the prima ballerina's room. It was dark inside. She reached for the light switch. Suddenly, from the shadows, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. Then, the door shut and locked behind her. Panic surged through Justine. The scent enveloping her was familiar. Why was Ash there? Before she could answer her own question, he pressed his lips forcefully against hers. More kisses followed, violent and punishing. Justine wanted to shove him away, but Ash was a hulking mass of angry muscle, dominating her completely. Fear surged as she bit his tongue, tasting blood, but he didn't stop. Jenny had no idea how wrong she was about Justine and Ash's life. Their marriage had been consummated quickly, thanks to the "intervention" of some elders. Although Ash might resent Justine's existence, he was undeniably addicted to her body. They had known each other for so long and so well that they instinctively understood how to arouse and please one another. This knowledge was etched into their flesh, a part of their movements. Justine's thoughts spiraled into chaos. Suddenly, she felt a bite on her shoulder. She could tell Ash was upset just from the strengthâand it irritated her. What was his problem?! He had always wanted this divorce! he had signed the paper with his name on the day of their wedding! With Justine gone, he would finally be able to marry the woman he really wanted, right? So why is he angry now? Because she was the one who had suggested it instead of him? The backstage was starting to fill with people. She could even hear one of the assistant artistic directors rushing past her room. If anyone were to knockâor even openâher door, Justine would be famous in the scene for the worst reason possible! Justine bit her lips, forcing herself not to let out even a should. Unfortunately, this only made Ash more beastly. He hated silence, so he did everything he could to make her scream and yelp. - The light was on, bright and blinding. Ash sat languidly on the couch, his shirt and suit surprisingly neat. In contrast, Justine's expensive ballet dress lay torn. After a shower, she slipped into an oversized practice garment while Ash glared at her. "A divorce?" he asked, cutting straight to the chase. It was difficult to discern his emotions from his voice. Justine studied himâhe was still as handsome as ever, but gone was the youthful, teenage look she once loved. In its place stood an indifferent, reserved man in a suit. Her eyes no longer sparkled with admiration and yearning when she looked at him. She nodded firmly. Ash snickered. "What? Because of Jenny?" For some reason, the thought of Justine exploding over his affair with Jenny excited him. Unfortunately, she simply shook her head determinedly. "I don't love you anymore," she signed. "That's why I want a divorce." Reality shattered Ash's fleeting excitement. Her straightforwardness left no room for ambiguityâshe didn't even hint at clinging. His mind went blank. Suddenly, he recalled that rainy night many years ago when that woman had pushed him into the mud, signing furiously, "I don't love you anymore! I am not your mother! You are disgusting, just like your father! Go away! I don't want to see you anymore!" It felt as though all emotions had drained from him. Ash rose and glared at Justine frostily. "Suit me just fine. You stole this marriage from Jenny back then, anyway. She finally gets what's always been hers." "Congratulations," Justine signed earnestly. Ash was stunned. He had not expected that from her. He remembered Jenny begging Justine not to take him away when Justine had taken out a lipstick and written on the wall, right in front of their parents, 'He is mine, and only mine!' The same woman⊠just congratulated Jenny. Rage inexplicably flared within him. Granted, this marriage should have ended sooner. It had been delayed because she had saved his life while sustaining grievous injuries a year ago, but now she was the one requesting a divorce. That worked to Ash's advantage, right? He had no reason to be mad. "My lawyer will contact you tomorrow at noon to finalize our divorce," he said. Justine nodded. Surprisingly, she felt not a hint of sadness or longing. "Good. We can announce our divorce at the family dinner tomorrow evening," she signed. Ash looked away from her. she had this all planned out, hadn't she? It was as if she could not wait to have every tie with him severed. Chapter 3 Ash sneered and went through the door. Justine watched his hulking frame, suddenly recalling hazy memories of her teenage past: a younger version of him, tall and lean, with his back against her. Despite her earlier calm, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. "JustineâŠ" He had stopped by the door and turned to face her. "I no longer answer to my grandfather, Justine. So there's zero chance of you going back to being my wife after this. Don't regret it. "And most importantlyâdon't give Jenny trouble. You've tormented her enough." Ash understood how obsessive her love had been. Justine's life was so devoid of meaning that the only two things she had were ballet and him. This was why Ash was convinced that Justine's sudden change of attitude stemmed from spite after seeing Jenny. Once she calmed down, he was sure she would regret this decision. His job was to ensure her regret was futile. She could no longer return to himâand he would never accept her. Justine was kind and courteous to everyone except Jenny. Ash had never managed to protect her well enoughâthe poor girl had endured much of Justine's wrath. That was why he was determined not to let Jenny suffer for him any longer, no matter how hysterical Justine could be. "Trust me, Mr. Vanderbilt. You should say this to her," Justine signed, her eyes gentle as always. "She should not mess with me." Otherwise, Jenny would suffer worse. - Justine was nothing if not determined. When Ash was her prize, no oneânot could have gotten in her way. But now that she wanted him out of her life, she wouldn't shed a tear for him. After Ash left, Justine cleaned up the room. She picked up the torn pieces of her favorite ballet dress. It had been tailor-made for herâa piece of luxury she had won in an international competition. Fixing it would require a lot of money. She had to demand compensation for it in the divorce agreement! Just then, she heard Iris' voice from outside. "Jean? Are you up?" The performances had ended a while ago. Iris had arrived earlier, but the light in the room had been off, so she had assumed Justine had been sleeping. Justine lit a lavender candle, and once the stench of Ash's intrusion faded, she opened the door. "It's over?" she signed. "Other troupes have all left except for your group! Everyone's waiting for you at the party," Iris replied, doing her best to mask her sadness. Yes, it was a party, all rightâa farewell party. Suddenly, Justine's phone rang, startling her. Few people ever called her phone. Those who knew her preferred video calls. But this was an audio call. "Looks like a landline number," Iris murmured. She quickly looked it up on the Internet. "That's⊠Eudaimonia Home in Saintwood. Why is a nursing home calling you at this hour?" Justine answered the call before Iris finished her explanation. "Is this Justine Thorpe? Good evening. This is Eudaimonia Home. Mrs. Aurora Roch hasn't been feeling too well for the past two days. If you can, please come here as soon as possible. She would like to meet you." Justine was shocked. - The trip took three hours, and it was already one in the morning when Justine arrived. The nurse who had called her led Justine to Aurora's room. "She's been expecting you," the young woman said. The sight of a sickly, bony woman on a sickbed greeted Justine. Aurora had once been the director of Glascape Orphanage and had been a mother figure who raised Justine. She was the one who had recognized the potential ballerina in her and let her shine. Three years ago⊠While suffering from an incurable disease, Justine's grandfather found her in the orphanage and wanted her to return home. Justine refusedâuntil some bloggers discovered Glascape Island. The rustic beauty of the fishing town quickly spread across the Internet, attracting several corporations eager to transform it into a tourist destination. At that critical moment, Aurora was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Justine faced a difficult choice. She needed money to prevent the island's purchase and save Aurora. Thus, she approached her grandfather and agreed to a deal. Soon after, Aurora informed Justine that she had contacted a hospital abroad where she would receive treatment. They parted ways but promised to stay in touch. "The treatment went well," she would say. "I met someone I love in the wonderful continent of Aestra. I would like to spend my last few years there." Justine believed her. Aurora had discovered her stomach cancer at an early stage, so her chances of recovery were high. Justine sincerely hoped Aurora was living happily out there, free from any shackles. Then Justine decided to marry Ash. That was when Aurora suddenly came to see her. They had a big argument, and afterward, Aurora stopped contacting Justine. - For years, Justine had been trying to locate Aurora. She would ask around and chase down leads, but she never managed to find herâuntil today. On her way to the hospital, the nurse provided details about Aurora's illness. The cancer cells had been spreading even back when they had their fight. "Jean, is that you?" Aurora's voice sounded familiar and foreign at the same time. Justine approached her, choking back tears. Aurora examined her face and smiled. "Oh, Jean. You're even more beautiful now!" she whispered. Justine studied her in disbelief. Suffering had taken so much from her. Aurora was left with nothing but bones and skin! Justine could not help but cry. "I thought you found someone you love! A-And you're spending your last days somewhere in Aestra!" Justine signed slowly. "So why are you here? Why are you⊠dying?" Aurora's eyes reddened. "I'm so sorry. I lied." Justine cast her eyes at Aurora's face, shakily holding her hands. She pressed her forehead against the back of Aurora's handsâjust like she used to when she was a child. But there was no warmth left in Aurora's hands. They were frighteningly cold. "Love, you're all grown up now. You have to⊠learn to accept death⊠Mine⊠and Ares'..." Ares⊠Justine felt her blood freeze. Memories flooded herâit was a beautiful day. A young man ran across the white waves as they rolled. He laughed and turned back to her, his smile brighter than the sun. "Come over here for a hug, Little Justine!" he had called. Pain coursed through Justineâs limbs. She met Aurora's gaze, her eyes brimming with tears of agony. Chapter 4 Aurora knew exactly what was on her mind. She had raised this child, after all. Half a year after Ares' death, the Thorpe family located Justine in Glascape. Aurora hadn't wanted to be separated from the young woman, but Justine's worsening mental state had made her reconsider. Justine had taken it poorly, wasting all her time searching for news about a man who was already dead. She had been a woman possessedâeveryone feared she would become more self-destructive. Aurora had hoped that sending Justine away to a new place with her original family might help her move on. That was why she had accepted the Thorpes' offer. Thus, Justine returned to Sol. Who would have thought Justine would marry someone not long after? Aurora knew how much Justine had loved Ares. There was no way she could have accepted another man in her life so soonâlet alone a husband. Fearing it was a political marriage of convenience at the cost of her child's agency, Aurora had rushed to Sol. That was when she met Ash Vanderbilt. The young man had just returned from studying abroad. Most terrifying, though, was how much he resembled Ares physically. The only difference between them was the feeling they evoked. Justine had gone mad! She had latched onto Ash as if he were her last hope, utterly convinced in her denial that Ash Vanderbilt was an amnesiac Ares Vance. Any mention of the truthâAres' deathâwould send Justine into uncontrollable hysteria. So why was she so different today? Why was she looking at Aurora with such crushing dejection in her eyes⊠without a single retort of denial? "Y-You know⊠he's not him, d-don't you?" Aurora whispered shakily. Justine nodded tearfully. Of course, she knew! Ahhh, Ash could not muster even the smallest amount of the kindness Ares had so effortlessly displayed. However, back then, Justine could not bear the thought of living in a world without Ares. She had deluded herself, clinging to an impostor, surviving through Ash's superficial semblance of him. How else could she have lived this long? But Ash... was a disappointment. He wore those suits so frequently now that it had become harder and harder to see Ares' ghost in him. Aurora let out a pained sob. "No, no, no. How cruel has he been to youâŠ" How cruel had Ash been to Justine? How much hurt had she endured to break a spell so ingrained in her? What had it taken for Justine to admit she had been living in a delusion? The implication stabbed Aurora like a knife. The equipment connected to her began to beep shrillily in alarm. Justine panicked. She was about to call the nurse when Aurora suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Jean⊠once I'm gone, you're not bound to anyone in this world anymore⊠Do you understand me?" she croaked. "Leave them. Go home. L-Live⊠your life... You are free, Jean." Justine nodded frantically, pressing the emergency button over and over. Aurora's breathing grew erratic, but her eyes were fixed on Justine. She could not leave just yet. Her precious girl was still there, all alone. No one would stand for her. No one would speak for her. Alone. "J-Jean..." she whispered one last time, holding Justine's hand. "C-Call me..." Justine trembled. "Call me... M-Mom..." Aurora exhausted all her strength. Her body collapsed into Justine's arms, her breath short. The old woman was hyperventilating, looking at Justine with a pleading gaze. Justine had not been born mute. It was traumaâfrom before her time in the orphanageâthat had caused her mutism. Aurora had taken her to countless specialists, but the effects of the treatments had been discouragingly small. Now, all Justine could hear was the ringing in her ears. She nodded vigorously and opened her mouth, trying to force out a sound. Her throat felt strange. Panic welled inside her. Time seemed to slow. All she could produce was silence. The nurses rushed into the room, and Justine felt herself being pulled away from Aurora. Chaos surrounded her, accompanied by the incessant ringing in her ears. It wasn't until she heard the long beep from the machine that the ringing finally subsided. One of the nurses gently closed Aurora's eyes. She had been watching Justine until the very end. Then, they covered her pain-twisted face with a piece of white cloth. It was not the first corpse Justine had ever seen. The first time was at a funeral home in Glascape. Aurora had howled, her voice thick with tears, "Ares! no, no!" 'You see this, Ares? You loved me so much, and yet I wasn't there when you ended your life. I never even visited you once in so many years. 'She raised me, right? She just wanted me to call her Mom. And I couldn't even do that. 'I'm a terrible person,' Justine thought. - Aurora had left notes for her burial. There was to be no funeral. She wanted to be cremated immediately. She had also appointed Justine to decide what to do with her ashes and belongings. As Aurora was pushed into the crematory, the nurse who had cared for her the longest collapsed to her knees in tears, howling. But Justine could only watch in cursed silence. Her lips were pale as she tried to call out to Aurora in her mind. - The first snow had arrived on Sol. Ash's meeting had just ended. Robin Letto, his secretary, rushed to his side. "Mr. Vanderbilt! Ms. Pearce said she can't seem to contact Mrs. Vanderbilt," she said hesitantly, too afraid to even breathe too loudly. Ashâs mood had been in the gutters today. It was as if the air itself could freeze around him. Logically, after regaining full control over the family business and outmaneuvering his uncles, Ash should have been overjoyed. Yet, he was the exact opposite. Ash frowned. "Fine." He expected her to regret it, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Now, divorce was back on the table. Despite Ash's thoughts, there was a renewed spring in his step, something even he failed to notice. Nearby, Robin acutely sensed the change in his demeanor. His mood, unexpectedly, seemed to have improved. Ash returned to his office and booted up his laptop. The document he had been working on appeared on the screen: the divorce agreement. He had been revising the terms of the compensation Justine was entitled to receive. The offers were generous. The money alone would be enough for her to live comfortably for a lifetime. He had purchased a property for her abroad. Knowing she had been accepted as the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale, he had bought her a villa in Voue, the capital city of Charlemagne, where the ballet company was based. To Ash, these gestures were his way of expressing gratitude for saving his life. - At noon, a meticulously dolled-up Jenny stepped into Ash's car, and they drove to a Michelin-starred restaurant she had been eager to visit for ages. Grinning sweetly, she cooed, "Ngaww, I don't know what came over me! I just had to eat at this restaurant! You're such a gem, Ashie!" Ash smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're happy." Jenny nodded firmly. "Of course I am! You're always so nice to me." She hesitated for a moment. "Um⊠Did Justine⊠you knowâŠ" Ash's smile faded. "Let's just eat." Jenny felt a surge of satisfaction at his darkened expression at the mere mention of Justine. Lunch soon ended, and Ash needed to return to work. "I've kept you long enough, Ashie! Good luck with work!" she said brightly. "I'm off to meet my friends for afternoon tea!" Ash briefly glanced at her belly. "Please take care of yourself." "Of course!" she chirped, waving him off. Once he was out of sight, Jenny's smile disappeared. The innocence drained from her expression as she dialed a number. "Hey. Are you sure Justine will be at the Thierry family's soiree?" she asked. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14797&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 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=14797&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465733853_502380432950668_5964851641982863637_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6gk_XGdZO9gQ7kNvgFNilLr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYDKF9H2oyMAHV9wEOh0sJs4bHk2Z74exkGhAKeiJchWpg&oe=67459863 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |